Who Are You?

Arc 3.11 - Luther Abravel

A/N: NSFW 😏
General > Lieutenant General > Captain > Lieutenant > Major > Private > Cadet
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Five long calloused fingers wrapped around the neck of his enemy. With a sickening crunch, the man fell limp and was dropped like a disposable rag.

The battlefield was a heavy scene.

Fallen corpses used as meat shields. Blood pooling from the piling corpses, staining the grounds

Enemy attacking from all corners.

Intestines spilling out left and right, limbs beings severed off by careless mistakes.

The smell nauseating of metallic blood. Fear and bloodlust rolled off their auras.

Luther Abravel truly thrived in this setting. Already a large amount of blood had washed him over from head to toe, his grip on his sword slipping from the dense liquid.

He stepped over the raggedy corpse and weaved through the crowd of enemies while yelling out orders to his men on changing to the appropriate formations.

A man jumped him from the side. With his dagger Luther executed a quick series of stabs to the side of the enemy, then slashing through the tendons of the arms gripping on his body and finally harshly kicked him away. He moved as fast as lightning, slashing through skin and tendons, pooling blood. The blade looked as if it was an extension of his arm.

He was so in synch he hadn't realized when he had defeated all the enemies in his closest vicinity until his knife pressed against the throat of one of his own.

Stark fear shown from the eyes of his ally.

'He's a demon!' Was all the poor soldier could think of as he was a sliver away from being beheaded.

Luther blinked, coming back to himself for a moment. Calmly he pulled the soldier back up right, fixing up the soldiers ruffled up uniform as the man looked at him in a horrified daze. "I apologize. Didn't see you there." He said stoically while patting the man's shoulder and looked around for his next enemy.

The General he's been placed under had directed his regiment in the nastier part of the field where the terrain was difficult and the enemy's poured throughout endlessly.

Yet unlike how one might think it as a suicide mission, the frontline unit of the Zenith regiment was not to be called weak. They were called monsters for a reason. And that reason is that they use any means necessary for victory.

The war was coming to a conclusion, so far mostly in favour of the Avrailium Kingdom.

And in favour for Luther as well. He's on a steady road to becoming promoted to the rank of General from Lieutenant General. Just like the original it'll take a few more years until he racks up a large amount of accomplishments to be able to stand at the top 0.1%.

His sword swirled through the air to thrust into a body of flesh sneaking up behind him. Ripping the sword out in a fluid motion, he stood unfazed as intestines and guts fell out of the enemy open stomach. Smoothly disemboweled, he died on the spot.

After years of slaying enemies, Luther has long been desensitized to forms of empathy or ethical reasoning. You stop worrying about the morals and ethics of killing people when they spend their time trying to kill you.

It was days later when the Vraigrainiums were forced into a tactical retreat.

While Luther made it through relatively unscathed— or rather with all limbs and organs still intact, many weren't as lucky.