Chapter 21: The General, Once Again

When I was younger, I was a renowned General of the Lost Lands. Demons and monsters alike shuddered when they heard the name “Wuns Agen”, and with my two swords, I carved the way to victory in countless battles. Wartime is a cruel reality, but I took solace in the fact that I was a beacon of hope for people everywhere. I held the highest honors and preserved peace, eventually becoming known as a legendary figure who never lost a battle he commanded in.

Despite this, all of my prestige has been lost to time. All it took was one battle. A single minute, to completely overturn everything.

Just when I was thinking about stepping down as General, the Demon King of Sloth had been defeated by the Hero at that time. The Hero then was truly an odd girl, and always said incomprehensible things to everyone. It was even speculated that she had not a single trace of Holy Power within her. But people didn’t care about those trivial details. How could they, when she still produced the results expected of a Hero? The Hero married a prince from the Everflower Kingdom, and together they raised a young princess.

Princess Sylvatica was truly an exceptional girl. I would know, since I met her on numerous occasions. I trained her in magic swordsmanship. I also escorted her whenever she traveled. I stepped down as General to become her knight. Some called it a higher honor. Some berated me as a fool. Others called me an opportunist.

And I did see it as an opportunity. It was a chance to foster the next generation. To prepare her for the eventual struggle against the next Demon King. I essentially became an honorary grandfather to young Sylvatica.

Her parents were commonly busy, so I spent a lot of time with Sylvatica, even for frivolous matters. I had never planned to raise a child in my life, but Sylvatica was the closest thing to that experience. She was a girl who listened to no one, followed her own path, and above all else, held the deepest determination in everything she did. She was twice as odd as her mother. The Hero of that time said many incomprehensible things, but Sylvatica thrived in peculiarity. She spouted foreign terms that no one could translate and somehow possessed an innate understanding for Namida despite her youth. She justified all of her actions under the efforts of “maintaining the story”. Even when I asked her to explain such things, she would get wrapped up in her own little world and lose me yet again.

When Sylvatica had finally reached adulthood, she decided to go on a pilgrimage. She wanted to travel to High-Five Rock. The goal was to better understand what exactly the Demon King’s castle was, and how she could prepare against the next Demon King. There was supposed to be no complications on our journey, and that was the case until we reached the Tilde Plateau.

We never even reached High-Five Rock. A beast I had never seen before attacked us. It was a mountainous deer, coated in slick black fur, with a gaze that made even my legs shake. With just a flick of its tail, it summoned a raging storm, and with a blink of its eyes, it harnessed lighting within its antlers. My swords could not pierce it. Even Sylvatica, who was hailed as a genius of magic, barely managed to wound it.

In the midst of our bloody, rainy, muddy, battle the beast harnessed the storm again. With just one flash of lightning, everything went blank. Princess Sylvatica didn’t make it. Most of the entourage had lost their lives, and the few that lived suffered grave injuries. I was the only one fortunate enough to make a full recovery.

The honor I held was gone. Most of my men were gone. Princess Sylvatica was gone. The beast was gone too, but I know it’s still out there. So much had been lost, and it was out of my control.

All I could do was present Princess Sylvatica to her parents. The Everflower Kingdom didn’t take it well. Her parents took it worse. No matter the circumstances, it was clear I had failed to protect her. I had come out alive, while Sylvatica had not. Slander was the least of the problems I had to deal with. Recalling the despair I felt in those years makes me regret things even now.

I removed my war decorations and banished myself to Fort Forth. It was the closest location to where we had encountered the beast. I vowed to myself that I would say that foul creature, if nothing else. I would at least maintain what little honor I had left by serving the place where she fell.

Where then, did everything go wrong?

I don't recall how, but I acquired various necrotic items. Perhaps I deluded myself into believing that I could bring Sylvatica back some way. The beast never reappeared, even when it stormed. I've always been desperate for some closure on my greatest failure.

I'm only realizing this now, but such delusions have truly twisted me into a husk of my former self. Disparaging holy power for necrotic items, draining my staff through overwork, and simmering in paranoia over the beast and the Demon King of Wrath. I have become one of the despicable beings I despise.

My days of leading people to victory were long over. I could no longer be the beacon of hope for anyone.

Before I even knew it, I was boiling in the deepest pits of my delusion, there was an intruder who penetrated the waves of my consciousness.

A girl.

Tomboyish, unrefined, and one who clearly sees the world in a different view. Rough when battling, sloppy when talking, and a trickster in everything she did. Looking at the necrotic ring on her finger, and the book she read with no problems, it was clear that she had no attachment to her humanity.

She was so far removed that she dared to attack me and my fort.

And yet, I can't help but feel that it was a blessing. Watching the way she moved. Looking at her firm expression in the midst of battle. Sensing her deep desires to accomplish what she wanted to do. I processed all of these things, and a shredded string of fate that dangled from my heart started to tie itself back together again.

This girl reminds me of Sylvatica.

Fundamentally, they were different, but I saw shadows of the girl I once protected in her. When she first approached me in the darkness of the night, I instantly felt myself wanting to protect her. If that was the case, why was I so hostile towards her? Was it from a shattered sense of identity? Did her blatant lying irritate me?

I drew my swords, only they could provide me the answers I craved. We battled, and she claimed victory.

Once again, I lost.

The insignificant pride I held meant nothing. The girl even managed to steal away my last hope of reviving Sylvatica.

The necrotic energy that spread throughout the fort after her spellcasting was suffocating. It was enough to kill a dragon. The only other time I felt so close to death was when I fought the beast. The violent purple aura that swirled around her was filled with the grudges of the damned. When I saw the girl perishing right before me, I felt regret, only for just a moment, but it was enough time for me to despair over the situation.

Somehow, the girl survived. Whether it was a blessing or a curse, the necrotic ring she pilfered from my storage managed to suck in all of the spell. All the girl was left with was confusion as she activated her useless aura.

The bitterness within myself was fighting against my long buried compassion. The girl had no idea of her situation, but with my harsh words, all I could do was argue with her. My kind tone had died with Sylvatica.

But the girl pressed forward anyway. After our argument, it seemed like she reached her own conclusion about something. The resolve that rested in her eyes at that moment reminded me of my younger self. She had reaffirmed to herself what she was trying to do. I did this many times on the battlefield. So many times in life, people lose their goal without realizing it. Rarely do they return to the selves they abandoned along the way. This girl figured out everything right in front of me. Perhaps it was that very quality that reminded me of Sylvatica the most.

Looking into her eyes, I realized I had lost my way a long time ago. Like the girl before me, I needed to find my way back to the path. It was time to let go of my bitterness. The girl had dropped all of her anger, all of her playfulness, all of her confusion, and started to tell me her story.

In my position, all I could do was listen. I was incapacitated, having lost the battle just a few minutes before. I heard of her escaping from High-Five Rock, and of her chickens. I learned of her companionship with an Orc Tribe, and her thoughts on what she should do next. I could tell she omitted many details, but I did not press her for them. I could gauge her true character from the morsels she provided. Most of all, I sensed her dangerous path forward to destruction, tread with a conviction that couldn’t be squandered by any obstacle.

Like Sylvatica, it was clear I was in no position to stop her. She would forge her own path even if she had to carve it through the Underworld. I think the girl failed to realize how deep her own resilience was. Beyond the claws, the sinister appearance of dark hair and necrotic aura, and the odd way she talked and moved, there was the beginning of something monumental before me.

I was inspired to ask the girl her name.

“My name? Mr. General Wuns Agen Sir, I’m just Village Girl A, just a simple NPC. But I guess you can call me Talon.”

She introduced herself with strange terms, but I received her name. Talon. I would remember that name. She requested my help for something involving a Hero. It seems a Hero had been chosen to combat the Demon King of Wrath. She wanted me to test that Hero under her parameters. I was in no position to refuse.

I had lost in battle, but more than that, I had lost in purpose. With the raging waves of Talon’s ambition, I had drowned under her vision and had submerged into her grand plan. I should have been furious, but after everything had settled, I found myself smiling. This girl was misguided, but passionate. I found myself thinking it wouldn’t hurt to help her. It seemed like Nephelai herself was guiding me towards Talon. If nothing else, she took on the spell I was studying. I owed my life to her. Once my anger settled, I was still honorable enough to acknowledge at least that.

I had hope that I could guide this girl for just a little bit. For the brief time we encountered each other, if I could just raise my sword and point her in just a slightly brighter direction…

…If I could do just that, then maybe I could let everything go. Maybe Nephelai could grant us peace.

For Sylvatica, and for myself, but most of all for Talon, I decided to open my heart to hope, once again.