Chapter 60.

The nation of Ofril was attacking, and the nation of Zorn was losing. 

They were losing. 

And Ravin got to see all of it. He saw his home be destroyed by the spell of one of Ofril’s Artillery Mages. He witnessed his friends getting slaughtered in the streets of his town. And instead of fighting he ran⁠— he ran to protect others and evacuate them. It all happened so fast, in one day they were citizens and the other they were refugees going to the city of Torl. It was a journey that couldn’t get any worse with the deadly plague going around. 

But he was wrong, extremely and deeply wrong. 

The nation of Ofril wasn’t planning on letting them escape, instead they sent their men after them, and Ravin got to hear it all again⁠— the dying screams of the people he grew fond over. It was happening again, and this time, he didn’t run. He couldn’t bear to run, not after what happened last time. Nothing remained of his town, and he didn’t want for nothing to remain of the people.

He was a warrior, he wasn’t the highest leveled one, but he had the strength to protect others. And this time, he was going to put it to use. 

Screams blared in his ears as he grabbed the sword on his waist. His heart was racing, thumping with adrenaline as he looked around. Those that couldn’t fight were working on huddling together to be protected, but given the attack had just started many people had yet to reach safety. 

So, Ravin acted. He dashed towards a woman and her child, they were cowering on the sand as the attacking knight tore through the man that had just been protecting them. And now, he was going to kill them. 

The woman screamed in fear and her child cried, and just as the knight was about to swing⁠— he arrived, blocking his strike. 

“It’s pointless, deserter. Give up and accept redemption!” 

Ravin gritted his teeth feeling the weight of the knight’s sword. “Deserter? We are civilians!” 

With a push of strength, he managed to disengage with the knight, but it was met with nothing more than a mocking sneer. 

“You are part of Zorn, therefore you should be giving your life for Zorn, not running,” he said dangerously. “Now, I’ll ensure that destiny is fulfilled, and should we fail, the commander has a tool to end it all.”

Ravin frowned as he saw the blade of the knight begin to shine, coated in a white light then he braced himself. The knight in front of him was level 67, while he was a mere level 52 warrior, the level differential was quite high, and there was also the fact that his class wasn’t anything special to begin with. 

Focus, he told himself. There are many more people to save.

And with that, he resolved himself. He couldn’t afford to be on the defensive⁠— no, he had to charge forward and be the hero that everyone needed. So, with a deep breath, he used Charge. He dashed forward towards the knight who grinned, and then swung. Ravin took a deep breath and used another skill.

Perfect Parry⁠— 

He deflected the strike of the knight, whose eyes went wide, and Ravin grunted in pain. One of his wrists had broken from taking the energy of the strike into his arms, but it didn’t matter⁠— not here, not now. Instead, he capitalized on the momentum and used Swift Strike, cutting the knight by the throat⁠— then he used Deft Thrust and finished his life. 

It all happened in such a short span that he didn’t register the gasps of the mother, but as he blinked and looked down at the corpse, he realized⁠— he did it. He had saved someone, and he had many more people to look after. 

So, after sending the mother and her child on their way, he dashed to protect others. He fought other knights, some that were higher level than him and yet⁠— he triumphed due to his wits, but even then they were still losing. People were getting slaughtered left and right, and Ravin had no choice but to try. 

He intercepted a group of knights going after a group of his people, there were others like him fighting, and all he had to do was buy time in order for the others to arrive. And he did, even as the sounds of death echoed in his ears, he fought. 

He parried, he blocked, and dodged, he let the non-lethal strikes strike him in order to conserve stamina, all while fighting back and delaying the knights. All he had to do was delay them, or so that’s what he told himself while he fought.

Time ticked on and he didn’t know how long had passed, but by some miracle he had managed to hold all of them off. In fact, he felt powerful⁠ doing so. Their strikes seemed slow to him and their attacks not nearly as lethal, but in the end he could only do so much. 

Ravin coughed blood.

He was trembling in front of the group of five knights, but he looked at them ferociously. No one was getting past him. His people would come soon, and then⁠— two knights sprinted past him. It was as if they had gained a sudden burst of vigor and Ravin tried to chase⁠—

“Ugh—”

And he coughed in pain, pain from all the injuries riddling his body. He paused momentarily and a knight charged him from behind. A sword pierced his stomach and Ravin groaned, he looked down in shock. He saw his crimson blood dripping and then⁠— the sword was taken out as he fell to the ground. 

Two knights rushed and then, the other one lingered in front of him. 

“Did you really think you were holding us off?” he asked. 

Ravin gritted his teeth. It didn’t make sense to him, were the knights really playing with him?

“Now I assume you are wondering why we let you stall us,” the knight in front of him said. 

Ravin didn’t have the breath to reply to him; he couldn’t. And the man laughed at his pained groans. 

“It’s because, it was pointless to rush⁠—”

The knight yanked Ravin’s head and made him look up. 

“⁠—and this is why,” he finished. 

At his words, Ravin’s eyes went wide as he saw nothing but death in his surroundings. All that remained were the corpses of his people and the red-stained sands. The knights had long charged ahead. 

“Because no matter what you did, your efforts were pointless,” the knight said, dropping him back to the ground. 

Then, the knight turned and he paused. Ravin through hazy vision saw a burst of fire, and the knight called.

“You⁠—”

And his head went flying. Ravin’s eyes went wide as he saw a silhouette immediately rush to his aid⁠— 

It was a hero.  

“Glad you’re alive,” the woman said, relieved before asking to herself, “What is the deal with these people anyway?”

He was fed a potion, and as his vision recovered he saw the impossible. He saw dozens of fallen knights, some were carbonized and some were simply cut down. It was an impossible sight to believe, and yet it was right before his very eyes. 

But just before he could thank the hero⁠— the woman that had saved him⁠⁠— they disappeared. He followed his senses to another group of knights, where she the person who had saved him arrive. 

She had a gigantic sword that was as large as her body, and yet her swings were something that he couldn’t even perceive. Each of her strikes took care of a knight, she was as deadly as she was efficient, and for a moment he was awe stricken. 

But that didn’t last long. No⁠— instead, he focused on acting. He rushed to the refugees the woman saved and guided them to safety, and then⁠— he followed after the hero that was protecting them all. 

He didn’t understand why or how, but he was grateful that she was there. The number of the knights had dwindled considerably, and Ravin noticed that his people were beginning to win their fights and push back against them. 

It was a relief, but it was not over yet.

There was still the general⁠—

And dust exploded. He turned in the direction of the girl, only to see a man in ornate armor clashing swords with her. 

“You have ruined everything!” he screamed. “And I will make you pay the price!” 

“I didn’t ruin shit, you people are just sick in the head,” she retorted in annoyance.

And then, she swiped and he was thrown away, the commander landed on his two feet sliding across the sand with a frown. But he charged again and again only to be met with the same result. The man gritted his teeth and slashed. 

“Destruction!”

A white flash passed and the woman⁠— blocked. A large rift formed in the sand behind with an explosion and the commander gritted his teeth. 

“You are much stronger than I thought, I’ll give you that” he said simply, before turning to the surroundings. “And now, our mission has failed.” 

He shook his head and reached into his backpocket. 

“But with this, I will put an end to it all.” 

With those words, he pulled out a scroll and pointed it at the woman. 

“With this, I will complete the mission given to me by my glorious nation!” 

The scroll began to shine in an ominous light and the sands of the desert began to shift. It was as if the weather of the Great Desert itself was changing, the sky was beginning to darken, and all Ravin could do was swallow. He felt nothing but danger, and yet he didn’t dare to make a move. He had to witness how the hero fought⁠ and if necessary⁠— help.

“Just accept defeat already!” the hero called, annoyed. 

With those words, she rushed. She swung her gigantic sword but the scroll shone and a barrier blocked the strike with nothing but some sparks. She did it again, this time with skills and all it did was produce more sparks. At that sight, the commander grinned.

“It’s pointless! Just accept your fate!” 

The scroll began to shine more brightly and the woman with a frown pointed her sword⁠—

“Battery⁠—”

And it all exploded. The barrier broke apart as glass shards went flying, fire exploded and yet the light of the scroll remained amidst the chaos. The commander laughed and Ravin narrowed his eyes as he saw a being of pure darkness beginning to form in front. 

The scroll was summoning something⁠— something that seemed to corrode the ground itself and make the temperature drop by several degrees. 

The commander grinned. “It’s fruitless⁠—”

“Abyssal Blast.”

And a purple explosion ripped through everything, engulfing the land in silence. 

Ravin blinked as he saw chunks of flesh flying through the sky, and that’s when he realized.

All of the knights were dead.

And they had survived. 

 

* * * 

 

[You have defeated a [Warrior. Lvl. 120].] 

 

[Curse Battery has leveled up from 3rd Rank level 5 to 3rd Rank level 6.] 

[Crimson Fervor has leveled up from level 7 to level 8.]

[Crimson Fuel has leveled up from level 7 to level 8.]

[Crimson Sense has leveled up from level 1 to level 2.]

 

[You have reached level 126. 5 stat points awarded.]

+5 Vitality +5 Strength +5 Dexterity.] 

 

Amber stared at the flying flesh and honestly, she was impressed by how strong Abyssal Blast had been as a finisher. 

That said, the sight still grossed her out to some extent, though she had no sympathy for any of the knights she had just fought or the man she had just killed. He was dressed in a completely different color armor so he was probably the commander of the small army. Though, none of that mattered anymore⁠— or at least, not exactly.

All of the attackers were dead, and she had dealt with a large portion of them. Amber looked around at the people that were attacked, a lot of them were breathing sighs of relief while others cried; mothers embraced their kids, men mourned their friends or families. It seemed almost like a lot of them were civilians. And yet given they were traveling as such a big group Amber only had two things in mind. 

Some kind of religious movement or the fact that they were refugees. 

After that, she stowed her sword into the ring and watched as a group of men and woman rushed out to thank her, meanwhile she sensed Cecile quickly approaching from behind. The people did give a wary glance but relaxed upon ⁠— Amber assumed ⁠— seeing the merchant’s attire. 

“Thank you savior.”

“You are a blessing from the sands!”

“Has thou been sent by the gods?!”

Every person present was thankful, but Amber didn’t care too much for that, instead, she cared for asking what she had in her mind:

“Why were you people attacked?”

At her words, the small group in front of her visibly flinched and some even sighed. Though a man in particular stepped up,he had blonde hair and looked young⁠— it was also the same person she had saved earlier, and he quickly began to explain. 

“The reason is simple, because we are refugees of the nation of Zorn.”

“That… doesn’t answer much for me,” Amber stated. 

The people looked at her and finally, the man sighed. 

“You might’ve heard of the increasing tensions between our nation and the nation of Ofril, now; all of that has turned into a full scale war.”

Amber blinked and at that moment, Cecile walked into the conversation.

“What, but I thought they were at a standstill?” she asked, confused. “It makes no sense as to why they would just act.” 

The man shook his head. “Everyone is acting.”

“What? What does that even mean?” Cecile was taken aback. 

Amber meanwhile, relegated herself to listening. It was better to let Cecile do the talking given she had practically lived in the Great Desert during a large period of her life. 

“A lot of nations of the Great Desert are at war, if not all of them,” the man said, sighing. “It seems that you are unaware of the current state of affairs.”

“The current state of affairs?” Amber curiously asked. 

The man gravely nodded. “There is a plague going around, and nations are accusing each other of unleashing it upon the world. Which has caused… conflict.”

“A plague…?” Cecile asked. 

“It’s a long story, but we’ll fill you in if you want.”

Cecile and Amber shared a glance, and ultimately nodded.

 

* * *

 

Apparently for about three months now, the Plague of Rot had afflicted several nations, mostly the villages in their surroundings, but it was enough for people to be wary. After all, the plague literally caused one’s body to rot, to fall apart and decay as if turning people into zombies. First, the flesh would begin to look pale if not slightly green before turning completely black and suffering from necrosis. 

Imagining it made Amber feel disgusted, but that wasn’t the thing that particularly caught her attention. It was the fact that the Plague of Rot was magical in nature, not a natural phenomenon; it was something that mages could sense and yet its source was basically unknown. It was also the reason for the strife between so many nations and conflicts. 

But Amber also learned that saying everyone was at war was a slight exaggeration. Most nations engaged in small skirmishes between one another at this moment. The only two nations truly at war were Ofris and Zorn. Given Ofris was a military nation, they were winning and currently, people from Zorn were seeking refuge at the City of Torl, the self governing city. 

Given its size with millions of inhabitants ⁠— according to Cecile ⁠— it made sense given it was a neutral territory. There was also the fact that it was openly offering shelter to the refugees. Of course, Amber had learned a lot more than that. 

She learned that the man she had been listening to had already lost the people he cared about she learned that the war had been going on for two months and two weeks, so it hadn’t even taken long for Ofril to wage it. They had basically instantly responded to the phenomenon of the plague.

Meanwhile, the man eventually learned of the state of Cytel, namely the fact that the capital had been attacked by an organization a few months ago and that recently demons were summoned as well.

Overall, it was just a small trade of information, but after, Amber was left to think. Or rather, be annoyed. 

Maybe she had romantacized the visit to the desert in her mind, but she didn’t expect to walk into a land where multiple nations were at each other’s throats. It was just ridiculous. And yet, here she was. On her quest to find the Primordial Spirit which impersonated her friend⁠— and also to ask for his help in learning essence. 

“Someone is angry,” Cecile commented. 

Amber looked over. “Is it obvious or what?”

“Well, you haven’t made a single joke for over a day, so…” She took a pause. “Yes.”

A sigh left Amber. 

“I just didn’t expect to instantly encounter war.”

Cecile raised her brow. “You seem awfully down about it, but I guess I can understand.” 

Amber didn’t say anything about it, instead she turned to look at the stars. Now, they were traveling along with the refugees⁠— mostly because it didn’t slow down the pace of travel at all given the sheer amount of worm-horses around, there was also the fact that Amber got to learn a bit more about the Great Desert from the people who lived in these lands— or at least, that’s what she told herself. She hadn’t really interacted with any of them. 

Though, there was something she did want to ask, so she turned to Cecile. 

“Have you heard anything of a Primordial Spirit in the Great Desert?”

Cecile blinked and got a thoughtful look. “There are… rumors… or rather… legends.”

Amber raised her brow at that. “Legends?”

“The guider to the after-life, that when you are at the edge of death you may see an oasis and see god,” she said, her tone rather serious. “It’s almost universally known here in the Great Desert.”

Amber blinked at that and nodded. 

“Though if you want to find out more, you can always visit the Grand Library.”

Amber didn’t say anything, given she was already planning on visiting it. That said, she did note to find out more about the plague. After all, she didn’t want to rot to death by some supernatural plague should she contract it. The man had claimed he had no idea about how one would get it, but she was a bit skeptical of that considering he didn’t know all that much about the plague all things considered. 

Amber looked towards the stars, and not long after decided to fall asleep.

And by the next day, she woke up to see a city in the distance. It was like a city of sand with grand walls. Almost like a kingdom of sand. Though in the surroundings of the city there were multiple buildings, as if there was a town around the city, and interspersed inbetween them there were rifts of darkness. And near, there were conglomerates of thousands of tents, which was quite the sight to behold. 

A sight that Amber stared at in awe. 

She had arrived to the Grand City of Torl⁠. The city which was built on top of the Grand Dungeon of Torl, and the city in which she was going to begin her quest of finding the Primordial Spirit.