Erus lay back in his seat carved from mahogany wood.

His eyes were closed firmly, both arms crossed beneath his cloak.

The responsibility on his shoulders was heavy, yet he left everything to his men and said no plans to any one of them.

There was an expectation of discontent, but it didn’t come true.

The advisors about him, who’d taken on the role of leaders now, were all very familiar with him.

His choices, they could emulate them.

Yet the masses did wonder, why was he so silent?

Why was their leader letting other men lead?

The answer to that came to him in the form of a blank void.

There a Golden Goddess held his seated self in her palm.

Herlinde, Goddess of Jupiter, beckoned him, bid to command him to sacrifice his men for her salvation.

The man did not even care to look upon her titanic form. He opened his eyes back in the world of reality as the blaze and panic spread.

Ahzi charged into his view, his armored hide barring even Gaius and even Alexander from landing a killing blow.

The Platinum Class elite under The Prince’s command marched forth and then did battle with the infamous Nidhogg General.

The dragon, Dahaka, bellowed from the cliffs on high.

The beast’s breath bore down on those powerful men, and though it killed very few of them it scattered their ranks entirely.

There was thus no one standing anymore between the Prince and his would-be killer, and yet Erus did not cower.

“I’m sorry,” Said the General, who launched himself forward.

He stepped beyond the threshold, and for a time Erus did ponder allowing himself to be killed.

After all should that happen then it would protect his people from Herlinde, who even now bid to possess him.

Ultimately he had enough sense to dismiss the thought as swift as any sane man should.

After that all he did was snap his fingers.

Such a thing could be called the most casual act in the entire world, and yet it rang down doom upon the ears of the sapphire coated general.

Barriers, just the same as Aegis’, leapt forward from Erus with his snapping fingers at their center.

Ten of them it took to halt the General’s momentum, five more it took to force him back, and then the last few stilled themselves in space.

Those final dozen barriers held him firm then, and the General opened wide his eyes in horror at the sight.

Erus’ indifferent eyes looked not into his own, but beyond him, to where the charging duo of Alexander and Gaius were swift in their approach.

They aimed for his weak spot, which was the same for all bearers of the dragon hide, they aimed for the nape of his neck as they both swung their blades at the same time.

The man knew that the end had come.

He beckoned his Beacon, called its God by name: The Embodiment of Destruction, Grimnir, who lay far off in Alfheim, the general bid for him to hear his final plea: to purge Muspelheim, slaughter all who lie within!

Yet then it was that many thoughts flashed their way through his mind during what would be its final seconds of time.

Nothing was more pronounced to his memory than Rosa, the girl whom he thought of like a daughter.

He wavered, and then, of course, came the memory of her mother who had been much loved by him.

He realised then that Grimnir wouldn’t answer his current wish; only a desire, a plea worth trading your heart and soul, would satisfy the vow.

His Emperor had ordered him to use the Beacon and slay Muspelheim’s army by borrowing the power of a God and his divinity, for being unable to fulfill this, he could only say he was sorry.

He gave voice to his final goodbye, let it be his vow to the Crimson God, and with his sacrifice: protect that girl, let her live her life however she wants it to be.

The thing happened suddenly.

The Beacon hid the dirt, soft and very silently.

The dying General stared at it in horror in those final moments.

Even Erus was surprised, and that same surprise cost him control.

Ahzi regained a tinge of freedom then, but did not bid to be free.

Rather, he turned his head bound firm by the remaining barriers to find a woman standing along the way.

She was Rusalka, who looked to him so much like her mother.

He didn’t even have time to speak his last words after that, for the blades of Alexander and Gaius hit the sand with equal timing.

Silence ushered in, followed by the subtle plop of a human head falling to the dirt.

Nobody dared to believe it, even the mounted Wyverns stopped dead in the skies.

That lasted for a few moments, and then the sound of boots drew their eyes to their wearer.

Rusalka gave a mild scoff, hands on her hips, she quickly kicked the head forward, only, she wasn’t quite so strong yet in her current body as she was meant to be, so it didn’t travel far.

That annoyed her, and so she gripped the hem of her skirt and raised it high.

Her legs, clad in armor of Ash, parted like a footballer as she launched the severed cortex into the sky.

After that, it landed at the side of her Sovereign.

Nobody was left unsurprised by her deeds, the wyverns and their mounted soldiers frowned in discontent.

The fighting did not resume though, for both armies stood still as Erus rose from his seat to claim the severed helm and that which lay within.

Only after that did his barriers break, and the lifeless body of Ahzi from House Dahaka fell to the soil and turned forever still.

The Sovereign’s steps were slow and steady, he walked forth with the head in both hands.

Unlike Rusalka, who had cause to hate this fallen foe, he showed a due degree of respect towards the man’s remains before he held the head up high for all the men to see.

Then with a roar his soldiers sprung to life anew.

The Wyverns and their riders were driven back by the fervor.

They were caught wholly unaware.

 

O

 

Alexander advanced, the Lord Consort came to the side of his now standing bride, then checked her body once over.

She was staring at the corpse in silence.

The dead man had caused much pain for her people, even if he had not been the most immediate contributor to their fall.

She was glad to see him dead but had come back to herself after kicking aside that severed head.

“Ru,” Her lover called to her, but she didn’t dare look at him.

He reached out to touch her, and she swept her body gently aside.

After a time, she gave him a glance and a nod, the same calm smile as ever was her answer.

“I’m alright, Alex,” She said, though the man was not to be convinced.

He looked her once over, then crossed his arms and gave a strained sigh.

He didn’t necessarily fail to fear for her body over much, but her state of mind worried him far more.

“That technique,” He said, turning his head.

He thought back on it thrice, then four times more, and he was sure.

That skill just now, just moments before, he saw that technique which cut the Beacon from Ahzi’s palm and he recognised it.

“My mentor’s, Lady Melany’s, legacy,” Said The Lady with a nod.

She had attained it at long last, and she could now conjure that power on a whim, all of her suffering had, in that one moment, become wholly worth it to endure.