What happens if Napoleon Bonaparte is resurrected in a fantasy world to save a whole continent from a Demon Lord?
A moment after his death, the former ruler of Europe receives a visit from the mysterious Faucheur, who proposes him to reborn in anoth...
"If you build an army of 100 lions and their leader is a dog,
the lions will die like dogs."
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That evening there was a party like no other in the village before.
Everyone danced, sang, drank and ate, while in the darkness of the valley one could still glimpse the pinnacles of smoke produced by the now extinct pyres on which only a few hours before we had burned the fallen.
It almost seemed that the joy of victory had already made everyone forget the massacre they had survived.
However, I wasn't too surprised.
If there was one thing that slaves and soldiers had in common, it was that they always had to face death, to the point that now accepting and understanding mourning was something their mind was able to do with shocking ease.
As for me, between the march and all the rest, I was so tired that I could not stand up, so I decided to go straight to sleep in a barn.
I was hoping to allow myself just a few hours of sleep and then go back to planning our next moves, but my first real battle in so many years must have reawakened baleful thoughts in me.
I found myself walking across a dark barren plain shrouded in ghostly mist, surrounded by graves and crosses.
As I was trying to get out, it appeared from behind one of the mounds and stopped a short distance from me.
That dog.
That damned dog!
It stared at me with those dark eyes, whining and whimpering so annoyingly my ears popped, and no matter how hard I tried to push it away, there was no way it would obey. That image had haunted me all my life, and now it had come back to haunt me in this one too.
Stop that. Do not look at me like this. It was not my fault. I had no choice. Go away... Leave me alone. Leave me alone!
A jerk brought me violently back into the real world, and never was the interruption of a brief moment of rest more welcome.
"Daemon."
"Scalia."
"Is everything all right? You are pale and shivering, and I could hear you talking in your sleep."
"Don't worry, it's nothing. Just a bad dream. What's up?"
"Passe wants to talk to you. Seems important. Looks like they've captured a prisoner, someone who matters."
"I'll be right there."
I'm not saying I didn't expect what was about to happen, however I wasn't overly surprised when, after entering the hut that we had destined for headquarters, I was greeted by Adrian's enigmatic and decidedly irritating little smile.
"Finally. Don't you know that the commander should never shy away from the celebrations after a battle? It seems to bring bad luck."
"Daemon!" yelled Scalia baring claws and unsheathing fangs "Let me kill this bastard!"
