Of Gods and Warriors ✓

Prologue

The greatsword left a streak of blood across the spotless palace floor.

The arm that dragged it along was weary, yet stubborn enough not to halt at the outcry that broke out all around at such a disgraceful interruption at the court of Lord Rhilio, King of the Gods.

Face obscured in tangles of blood smeared blond hair, the towering figure stopped at the end of the marble steps leading up to the throne. The king raised a withered hand, signalling for the others to quieten.

"Father--" began the unwelcome guest.

"In the courtroom, Xenro," said Rhilio, cold eyes showing nothing but contempt, "you shall address me as your King."

Xenro knew full well that this was neither the time, nor the place for a heart to heart talk between father and son. Not that he ever had that anyway. However, he pressed on.

"I hear you are going to destroy Stormvale," said Xenro, hefting his sword over one shoulder. "Is that true?"

"It is necessary to end this disaster once and for all," said Lord Rhilio. "The Chosen Warriors have failed to restore peace. I am left with no other choice than to unleash the Apocalypse."

Sharp blue eyes glared up at him. "You promised, Your Majesty, if I cleansed the Celestial Realm of the corrupted souls, this will all be over and you will spare the mortals of that land," Xenro said.

"Well, now the situation is different. It has been discovered the root of the problem resides in the Mortal Realm. And that is where we shall have to attack."

"And what of those corrupt souls I killed? The massacre you made me commit?"

"Mere collateral damage, nothing more."

Their cries still echoed in his ears, his blade still slick with their blood. Some of them had been monstrous indeed, as souls infiltrating the celestial plains sometimes were. But most of them had been innocent ones.

They had been common people, killed and sacrificed by their fellow mortals to fulfill their dark deeds, their tormented souls sent to the realm of the Gods to meet their demise by Xenro's blade.

It is disgraceful for you to feel for mortals-- the very filth you are meant to cleanse, Father said.

They wept, they cried, they threw themselves at Xenro's feet to spare their lives. Helpless men, women, children, mothers clutching their toddlers to their chests, fathers offering their lives in exchange for their families. They did not understand why they were in a different realm, or why they were going to be slaughtered.

But Xenro knew why it was necessary. Rhilio had burned the knowledge into his mind until it was all he could hear in those bloody hours of death.

Mortal souls do not belong in the Celestial Realm. Soon they will start corrupting the other inhabitants. You must kill them all.

Xenro had killed them all, for he was the Commander of the Celestial Armies, for in slaughter he was told to find his purpose. Yet somehow, it was not enough.

"Why..." he trailed off, looking up at the King of the Gods, "why is it necessary to destroy all of Stormvale's people? Can you not determine where the source of this whole crisis is?"

Rhilio folded his arms and sighed. "If I had thought your counsel worth anything, you would be sitting amongst the others, not out there cleaning the Celestial Realm of filth."

Xenro stared at him, stunned. He knew he was not welcome in his court. Today was an exception, and that was only because he had barged in himself. But despite all odds, he had not expected the King of the Gods to throw it in his face like that.