This is not treachery.
This is freedom.
In the middle of Heaven and Hell, the days of rain and mist are long gone. Now, the Gap World is a kingdom of light and darkness, goodness and evilness, sunshine and clouds. When clandestine forces weave toget...
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CHAOS HAD NO END. But it always commenced at midnight and followed me long after I'd left the battlefield. The same plains of endless green I'd padded through with Velian weeks ago were now stained with gore and injured men, ashes and dead flowers. Gritting my teeth, I took an unsteady step to my left, avoiding the bleeding, dying demon that almost crushed onto me. A second later, he fell on the ground on top of another one.
I turned my head to the other side, not dwelling on the appalling sight for long. Dawn was almost here. Everything would end. For today.
The demons wanted to take over the Gap World, probably because Amanda wanted the same thing. They hadn't achieved even the tiniest part of that dream yet. And judging by their poor abilities to fight and use magic, they wouldn't survive long. They weren't being led by the Devil, I knew that for sure. Dominic knew how to create indestructible warriors who could hardly be beaten by any weapon, force or magic. Those demons, although looking identical to Dominic's trusted pets, were vulnerable to magic, bleeding, crying and dying like normal human beings. While those unlucky soldiers of mine who were injured to death had a spot reserved in Hell for them, the demons who left their last breath on these battlefields had nowhere to go afterwards.
That was why I hated war. Because people who had committed no crime whatsoever were sent to rot in the worst prison, and those who had sent them there never paid for it. I couldn't think of that now. I shouldn't be thinking about anything. It didn't matter how close we were to victory, one second of carelessness was enough to change the course of the battle.
Sword met sword, and light broke out of my fingertips to blind the demon coming at me. It worked, as it had worked on countless demons before. Their time here was ending. My energy, as well.
His dead body hit the ground with a bang, while his crimson eyes remained open and frozen. I didn't feel pity. I didn't feel anything, which was something I'd been feeling a lot these past few weeks, months even. No need to cry, scream, get mad, angry. Nothing. Just emptiness.
How many men would I have to kill until this madness was over? A question that had always managed to bring shame and sorrow into my heart during all the previous battles I'd participated in. Now I didn't care about the answer. I just kept on fighting, keeping an eye on Normant who was almost ten feet away from me.
The remaining black-clad creatures of Hell were few. They hadn't managed to move past our army and get into the villages. That was a blessing. For if they had, the killing and butchering would have already commenced, and the Gap World wasn't ready for that kind of tumult.
Dawn was here, and as if the light blue color of the sky was the demons' wakeup call, they all put their swords back into their sheaths and dashed to the lake. For them, it was either death or going to Hell and coming back here at midnight. They always chose the latter. They never gave up.
I dropped to my knees. Relieved, desperate, scared, I didn't know. But I stayed there until there wasn't a demon around, until none of my soldiers were around, either.
I wouldn't go back home. I couldn't. There was only the lake, the dead, and that perilous feeling of hopelessness. Was I any different from that lifeless demon next to me?
I knew that the winner was the fighter. But I didn't want to fight. Ever again. Not when each time I attempted to kill a demon, his face was replaced by my brother's, and I was left staring at Ian dying by my own hands.
I knew that demons could bring false memories and illusions into their enemies' minds. I knew it. I'd experienced it.
But each time I closed my eyes, I saw Ian dying. And I couldn't handle it. I just couldn't. Not when I still refused to accept his eternal death. Not when I still believed that he would come back in a few months, or even years, and tell me that everything had just been a cruel joke. Not when I still saw his face in every crowd; not when I still pictured him sitting across from me in the living room, listening to me saying stupid things to keep the conversation going; not when every night he whispered to me that he was going to come back, that this was not the end, that we would somehow be reunited.
Sweet lies of my fantasy. Sweet lies that had me vomiting on blood-filled ground.
