ACT V : TESTAMENT
Leaving the human to die there in the forest, surrounded by his fallen comrades, the newly named Nightmare moved forward.
After all, there was an entire army of humans ahead. And they were all as strong as the ones he had just felled. He could feel it in the air. His pace quickened.
Yes, good. More. Kill more.
As he approached, he rushed upon a human who foolishly had his back turned, cleaving his entire body in two with a single sweep. The rush of power came, as it always did. Another noticed the assault and charged at him. He stabbed the blade upward through the man's jaw and the tip exited the top of his head.
Blood soaked the earth, mixing with the softly falling rain that had begun to run grimy rivulets over the surface of his armor. He worked his way through the mass of soldiers, slaughtering them as they crossed his path. Those who were not stupid enough to end their lives on the brash instinct to charge at him fled, but fleeing would do them no good...
You can run all you wish, pitiful little maggots, but it will only gain you a pathetically insignificant amount of time before you all fall to my puppet...
Since the humans were focused on attacking another army, they did not have much time to spend on going after the vagabond killer. But word quickly spread among the soldiers as Nightmare struck and disappeared again and again.
"Sir, I've brought a report," a young soldier stated nervously to his commanding officer as he skittishly rushed into the man's tent.
"Well, what is it, boy? Don't stand there looking like you're facing down death. Speak!" the commander ordered.
"Our attack on the enemy is all but over," the soldier stated, composing himself. "Lord Stefan's forces are severely weakened and are proving to be no trouble to eliminate."
The commander gave a hearty laugh. "Then why, pray tell, did you come in here white as a sheet? I understand I can be a frightening man when I so choose, Bleiys, but that is no reason to act as though I am the Devil himself--"
"Sir..." The boy interrupted with a frown. "Some of the men have reported seeing the Azure Knight on the battlefield. Apparently he is responsible for a great many seemingly inexplicable deaths that have been occuring in scattered areas throughout our ranks. Also, Captain Johan Durer's entire unit was found dead. The captain himself suffers grave injuries."
The commander went silent.
He was not a superstitious man, and when the stories of the demon knight who slaughtered any human he came across - man, woman, and child - had first reached him, he had dismissed it as no more than a fairytale told by bored soldiers with nothing to do while they sat around their campfires.
A supposed sighting of the monster, coupled with this wave of strange occurences and Lord Stefan's sudden stroke of mental illness, seemed too closely linked to be entirely coincidental... Then again, perhaps it was those things that had the men on edge, and in their panic, they had jumped to conclusions.
He stood, shaking his head, and stepped forward to give the young man an encouraging clap on the back. "My boy, frightened soldiers will believe almost anything they think they have seen. I have heard quite a few ridiculous stories in my day. I get the feeling that this is no exception. Now, if you would, head back and tell the men that they are merely seeing things and should continue on with the seige as planned." He frowned. "As for Durer's unit... That is rather alarming news, but we will have to look into it once this battle is over."
The soldier hesitantly nodded and exited the tent to carry out his orders.
"Hmm... Demons walking the earth... Now that's one I haven't heard too many times..." The old commander shook his head once more and left the tent himself for a breath of fresh air.
The rain was still falling, and it made the battlefield seem oddly serene. The sounds of battle were muffled, seeming far off... He watched as the armies advanced further, and a triumphant smile came across his face. Here was one more victory he would add to a long list of them since the day he had first taken the position of commander. The scent of the rain on the air was crisp and clean, as if to signal that this was a new and better start for the kingdom of Ostriensburg.
Then, he smelled something else, and a cold feeling of dread flooded his veins.
Blood. And the rank, musty scent of death.
He turned slowly to try and place its source, and came face-to-face with the very being whose existence he had denied mere minutes earlier. He stood motionless, daring not even to breathe, for a moment, as he took in the sight.
He looked human enough, save for the horribly twisted flesh of his right arm and the three enormous jagged claws on his hand. The suit of armor was covered in splatters of blood, dirt, and was beginning to rust in places. The helmet hid all but his glowing orange eyes, which peirced through its shadow like firelight.
And in his hand, the massive, flesh-covered blade's eye looked at the commander with a sort of malevolent longing.
Hunger.
The second his mind had begun to work again, the old man quickly drew the blade at his belt - he was an expert at combat, few had ever beaten him - and made a slash for the knight's head, which he dodged. The knight rose to his feet again and slashed at the man's legs, succeeding in taking one off just below the knee. The man let out a cry of pain and fell forward, catching himself before he hit the ground. The sword was still gripped in his hand, and he tried to use it to push himself back up as he watched the monster that was slowly closing in on him.
The tip of the blade met the underside of his chin, lifting his head so that he was forced to look into his opponent's eyes.
"You have a strong essence, human..."
"What?" Even here, with a leg missing and death clearly looming ahead, the man managed an annoyed tone. "Who are you? What are you doing, wandering around here?"
"I am the spawn of he who shall reclaim his rightful position as ruler of this miserable peice of dirt you humans call home, as well as the realms beyond. It is my duty to ensure that the likes of you are not in his way once he has gained enough power to come back in his true form."
The commander only stared. What was he speaking of? Ruler? True form?
"If there is any god you feel has not forsaken you... I suggest you pray."
These words had scarcely reached the man's ears when the blade met where his neck connected with his shoulder and sliced diagonally downward, splitting his body in half.
His last vision in the few seconds he had before finally dying was of the glowing essence of his life force, his very soul, enveloping the blade in the knight's hand... And the look of malicious pleasure in the blade's eye as that essence faded, devoured like so many others.
As their numbers steadily decreased, chaos abounded.
Nightmare had succeeded in killing nearly half of the soldiers stationed on this battlefield, consuming their souls and listening to the orders the blade gave him. Every once in a while, the human host's voice would ring out, but he for the most part ignored the meaningless rabble spoken by that fool and continued on with his massacre.
After a time, he sensed a new essence. This one was different. More powerful than any of the humans. He began to search for its owner, fully intent having that power.
Eventually, he found what he was looking for.
He almost had the visage of a human man. He was an enormous, towering wall of a beast, and thick muscles were easily visible, as he was garbed in little more than a loincloth and a few spiked straps that crossed his chest just below an exposed heart. Every beat of it could be seen.
The lower half of his face was covered by a metal faceguard. Milk-white eyes that lacked both irises and pupils looked out over top of it, and a few bulging veins stood out on his bald head.
Gripped in one gloved hand, the beast held an axe almost as large as he was.
Nightmare waited as the colossal creature turned and faced him. He would have to fight this batle carefully.
Wait.
The blade spoke out, and Nightmare was confused. Wait? It had never told him to wait before consuming an essence.
He is not a human, but a golem. He is strong, my puppet, and he may be of more use to you as a servant than a sacrifice. Do not fight him unless he refuses to comply with your orders. When he has outlived his usefulness... Then you may kill him.
A servant... might be useful.
The golem spoke first in a deep, rumbling voice. "Is that blade you have there the one they call Soul Edge?"
Nightmare looked down into the eye of the sword and it looked back up at him, as if urging him on. "Yes... it is."
The golem looked at it in fascination. That was the blade his master had sent him to retrieve. But he could sense its power, and it was weak. It needed more human souls in order to become an acceptable offering to Ares...
"Listen to me, and listen well. I am the herald of the being within this blade, and I do its bidding," Nightmare stated, narrowing his eyes. "That bidding includes killing all who are fool enough to cross paths with me. But you... may be of more use to me if left alive. I will give you one chance to live, and should you refuse it, I will kill you where you stand. You will become my servant, or you will die. Make your choice."
The golem considered his words. A servant? He, too, could collect souls to offer to the blade... With another contributing as well, the sword's power would increase more quickly. And when it was ready... He would kill its weilder and take it back to Kupaetku, who would offer it to Ares.
"...I will become your servant."
Nightmare still only stood there, the blade held at his side. "Very well. And what name would you be called by, golem?"
"Astaroth."
Nightmare nodded. "Astaroth, your first order is to clear the miserable humans off this battlefeild."
"Understood." Astaroth left immediately, and Nightmare began to head off himself, intent on doing the same.
An army, my child... You must gather an army to assist you in this task, and when the time comes, even they shall fall to you...
Heheheh... This is only just beginning...