Polymath Redux

Chapter 56: The congress of Soothsayers

-15 years ago-

Time stopped; as the guillotine that was soaked in his soldiers' bloods came roaring down like an unfeeling metallic representation of death, everything stopped. Sounds drowned by the thundering drums of war and the colors fading into a benumbed grey and black. The once sharp minded of the prodigious young prince thrown into disarray with grief at the loss and defeat.

He closed his eyes and shut out his mind trying to accept the guilt; the bloods of his soldiers, of his friends were on his hands. The arrogance seeping through the aureate castle also flowed into his veins. He could not run from the hubris of his golden heritage; the lineages of kings born into vanity, so too did it make him deliver his friends to death's door. Everything stopped; the world and his life apexes into this singular moment where he would reap the seeds he had sown thus far. However what stopped the most was his heart, 'I've failed them.'

Looking around were the torn up bodies of his fellow countrymen. They had laughed and cried with him only a few hours before, yet no more. He led them to this state, he was responsible yet he was the last to survive so he could taste life a little bit more than these gallant knights. Or perhaps it was a curse that he had to bear the sins and pain of living through their deaths, either way he did not like his situation any bit more one way or the other.

The worst part of failure is the knowledge that it could have been easily prevented with some amount of foresight. Inexperience, young age, arrogance, lineage, it was easy to blame his failure on those but the young prince knew it did not change the result. Thus he awaited his punishment.

"... Huh? Who are you guys?"

Before the guillotine scythe could draw its cold steel on the young prince's life it was swiftly intercepted. A loud clash of metal and spark burst at the scene, it kicked up a violent dust storm, covering his grey world in brown. The young prince started to cough violently as some of the sand got stuck into his throat. Slowly opening his eyes as he recovered from the sudden impact he tried to see what was going on. The sky's lights were covered in the dust storm or at least that's what it seemed, logically the dust should have cleared but it was still swirling around them unnaturally.

'Magic?' the young prince thought to himself as he analyzed his surroundings.

It was then that 'they' came into the young prince's view and attention; several men dressed in shadowy drabs and cloaks, bearing the mark of the 'eye on their hoods. Their faces were hidden under the shadow of their hoods. He had seen this mark somewhere before and searching through his mind's archives he remembered it. The mysterious woman who had warned him of this tragedy also bore the same symbol; his mind instantly made a connection between them.

Shifting his gaze forward the bloodied scythe's blade was stopped right before his face. With a man's hand ceasing the Blood Hero's movements on the spot. A man, a Titan wearing flame décor gauntlets, but what was more interesting was that this man had the power to contest the Empire's Blood Hero.

"This child is under our protection, we will not allow any further harm to be done onto him. Lest you want to face our wrath, Hero of Blood."

One of the men hooded in shadowy robes replied to the Blood Hero's prior question. His voice masked by strange magic, it sounded synthetic and unnatural.

"Heh... ah~ is that so? Well then, the more prey the better."

The Blood hero licked his lips as though he was energized by the fact that more people had come. 'He is called the Blood Hero after all,' reminiscing about the enemy's psychosis the young prince was reminded of why the enemy was so formidable. Equally matched in power and outnumbered by unknown enemies the enemy Hero still acts with fervor and glee.