Dead Man Standing

He blankly just stared at the sky for a few moments and snapped back to reality. He looks around and notices that all of his comrades are lying there, drained of color, even the blood itself looked pale but he was slowly getting used to the headache.

Oddly enough, none of the bodies belonged to the one who attacked them. Which was more of a reason to be alert as it was by no means a normal attack to take out a party of so many without a single casualty.

The kid rested his master against the lonely tree and stood up as he thought ‘I need to get going—’ but his gaze lingered towards his brothers once more.

He resisted to move on thinking if he could do something for them but words of his master echoed in his ears.

“You Must Continue”

His master knew the boy was far too kind for his own sake, he knew the boy would be worrying and hesitate to move forwards, worrying about what's behind. His master wished for him to focus on his growth rather than the roots he is tied with.

‘I will return back, I promise. Just wait for me.’

With this, the boy solidifies his resolve and takes off and takes on his first step towards the lonely world that awaits him and challenges ahead.

He looks around to see the situation and tries to find some clue to what is going on.

His unit was not weak, they were a bunch of people above your average everyday soldiers. That's the minimum. While his master exceeded strength beyond others.

That's why it was strange for them to die out without taking any one with them.
Whatever it was, it took out everyone, be it a group of few or single people. It was strong enough to take the whole mercenary unit and some adventurers who were asked by the guild.
It might be better if the one who is responsible for this mess is not to be found by the kid.
Worst case scenario if it really was just one person, it would be even more dangerous but knowing his luck, it wouldn't be impossible.

He looks around to see what the current situation of the field is. It seems peaceful after— at least for now.

He dusts away his dark clothes which were covered in blood, so it didn't help much but his black clothing didn't made the stains so obvious.

In his possession was just his old sword still stealthed which was barely holding itself together which was gifted by his master showing the signs of not only his hard work but also the intense and harsh battle that had taken place.

His memory was still fuzzy, he walked alone on the scale of the plains towards the road in a hurry.

The world seemed colorless. As if the world is robbed of its colors, or he is not seeing the world itself but something deeper inside it, something that is hidden from human eyes.

For the first time in life, he saw the world itself for what it is. Even if it's colorless, the details that eyes had grown numb to started revealing itself once again.

He could faint string-like white lines in the same direction as wind. He tried to grab it but nothing happened as it just passed through his hand. It seemed like it was nonexistent. Those wavy strings floating in the air before his eyes seemed to be guiding him toward some direction almost like fate itself calling out to him. He instinctively started following where the string and the wind guided him. His eyes were of the one that sought revenge. His normal walking speed was faster than others as he walked at a faster pace as a kid to catch up with others and it became a habit.

And not before long he finds himself onto the road track with the sound of horse neighing and laughter coming across from some distance on the road side, not knowing if it's a friend or foe.

He slowly approaches it to find a man in light armor, riding a horse. He had the same golden glowing spark from him as the man from his distant memories of his past, but an entirely different person, giving off something unordinary and out of the world feelings.

The man had dopey sharp eyes and was accompanied by 2 footmen. They both had the same white outline, even the horse had one. Not knowing their meaning, but it was enough to point out that the armored man on horse was different as his outline was shined like others but like his white tainted with something else. The more he looked at them, the more his headache grew. He was never getting used to the headache in the first place. The unknown cause of it was related to the outlines as it kept on increasing as he kept staring.

The foot soldiers were laughing like maniacs which kind of made the kid feel creeped to the bones and instinctively feel odd disgusted for unknown reasons to him. While the man on the horse looked serious and troubled in his own world.

They noticed the kid standing there and started coming towards him. He awkwardly rested his hand on top of the hilt of his sheathed sword to show that he is armed as it was common practice and even a custom for adventurers and mercenaries alike to show they are armed but friendly when they meet one another on the road side in the country.

‘I don't have a position to be picky, I should ask them—’ but just as he was thinking, he noticed blood on the shoes of the foot man.

The kid suddenly got serious, knowing that in front of him were not friends but foe but he was not as strong as the tales of heroes he looked up to. His skills were below that of your average adult soldier for his young age. Not naturally talented, just had a headstart.

The flickers of rage built up inside him once again but his hands tightened the hilt. He took a deep breath to calm his anger. He still had a trump card of which he had forgotten about. A skill he had locked away in fear of becoming an outcast.

The kid who never had proper training, learned from mercenaries by memorizing the movements, trying to copy them for years and trying to impress them and seek their praises. Due to that, he got a whack of mocking other styles.

While It was only mocking the physical stance, it helped him understand their movement and apply it for his own, but everything has a price when you are good at it. He was mocked for being weak by passing adventurers and others who fought against him, even some of his brothers-in-arms suggested the master drop him as he wouldn't be able to survive long… that his style was just a cheap trick trying to mock others.

They did not talk in front of him, yet he still was able to hear them whispering or by accidental ear dropping. They tried to be friendly about it but deep down the kid knew the emotions in their eyes were of fear and disgust of not wanting their work to be copied like that.

His master rejected their words and even confidently told the kid not to worry about it but out of fear to become an outcast once again, he never again tried to copy anyone else after. So that he can fit in with others as it was the only place where he could have called home.

He thought of the confident eyes of his master which were beaming with love and defended him. ‘Master, did you really believe in me?... Why am I even asking because it's time for me to fulfill that belief of yours. I was weak… for not accepting my own strengths and hiding it away. Cheap trick?... I will destroy what they couldn't with this cheap trick of mine. For I will no longer be held back by chains/words of those who are dead. For in the end, the only one who survives is the one who has the right to say.’

The kid smirked ‘I was never meant to live. I am dead anyways so I will go out teaching them a lesson’ he took his sword out to show that he was in a defensive position.

The man on horse froze as he looked at the kid, with widened eyes. With a confused look on his face, he looked towards the sharp tattered cloth piece on his chest where his heart resided.

“It can’t be… can it?” the man thought to himself.

One of the footmen seems pale, as if he has seen a ghost.

They are murmuring about something among themselves.

‘Maybe I should just step back and–’ As he takes a step backwards.

“HEY YOU!” yelled the foot man.

The person on the horse says “You again? How are you alive?’

As he was questioning the kid, he was cut off by the foolish foot man.

“Doesn't matter, should have just pretended to be dead. You walked out from your grave just to step into another”

The foot men were confused but still taunting the kid. He was just standing there by himself trying to control his horrific headache and distracted by what he was seeing.

The other footman mocks and laughs “Does it even matter when he is gonna die anyway with those wounds?” but there were no wounds on him as he checked before. Only tattered markings and some blood.

While they were mocking him, he was too distracted by weird shadow-like images. For him, he could see multiple blurry shadows of them, it was like after images but from the future, ghastly and faint but clear as they followed the path of shadow.

The more he looked, the greater the pain grew. Trying to surpass the pain but it was like his mind being bitten and thrown around like a dog's chewing toy.

‘I need to do something fast or this pain will be the end of me.’

The kid had one thing special about him, special or not, it was more of a curse than anything. In his entire life, no matter how much pain he was in, he was never able to blackout completely. Maybe that was the reason why he had not already passed out.

“Hey, do you not hear us? I will not stand for such ignorance” the foot man furiously says and he starts walking at him furiously without even a proper stance thinking too little of the kid.

The kid focused his attention on the man, he was able to see the ghastly image of the man next to himself.

It seemed to be slowed down versions of the man charging towards him recklessly, thrusting his sword towards the heart.

The images were almost like foreshadowing the opponents movement, it showed the path of his sword. No, he was able to predict their movements by the mockery but at the cost of his headache increased and he felt as if something needle-like sharp were piercing deeper into his skin.

The kid was not confident in his own strengths but these mysterious ghosts of the opponents which were giving away the movements, he felt like he was able to do anything.

The image itself was moving slowly, predicting the movement as cloudy like a ghost. Moving at a much slower pace almost to no moment at all. The kid firmly held his sword. With every step the footman took, the thrusting image became clearer than before. As the man came close enough, the kid moved out of the way of the sword easily, dodging it effectively and in a single slash, cut down the footmen.

At this point, the other two were not even watching as if victor was decided to be theirs from start and were already back on the way.

‘I can do this?’ the kid thought to himself as it became easier to fight for whatever was happening and his confidence was sky rocketing. The unease and fear of his started turning into confidence. The kid started smiling.

As those two were moving, only an unfamiliar voice came from behind them. ‘Leaving already?’

Both of them turned their heads backwards just to find their comrade laying down on dirt and a kid holding his sword pointing towards those men with a single arm.

“Dont get provocaded” said the armored man on horse slowly but it was too late. The other man becomes furious and charges at him.

It was the same, the shadow-like structure of his was shown but this time, it was no different except for the fact it were two, diagonal attack and upper slash while moving faster than the other person. But not fast enough for it to be a threat.

The kid blocked the upper slash with his sword and kicked him on the stomach making him lose balance and posture and he too, was easily slashed down.

‘Master I am doing it. I am taking revenge for you…’ said the boy with a smile but the flickering rage inside him just grew larger as he clutched his heart like he was having a hard time breathing. He was feeling hot, as if he had a high fever and his brain was frying itself but he had no care for his own wellbeing.

He looked behind him and noticed the white outline, which was being emitted from their body, started to faint away just like his master as if it was life itself and the butterfly came back absorbing the light away from them.

Yet he killed them, he felt no satisfaction from it, the anger did not cool down but only was driven higher.

The foot man looked towards the other man on the ground dead and said “Brother…”. The kid suddenly jolted.

‘It's not fair… you KILLED MINE…’ screaming inside in his own thoughts.

‘You… killed mine…’ said the kid and saw the blood, the blood was dripping from his sword onto his hands.

The raging sea of flames which was on its peak of destruction, disappeared. Their glowing outline broke apart from their bodies and flew away with wind, reminding him of his own master.

‘I thought I would feel better after taking revenge… I don't feel any sort of satisfaction from cutting down. I still feel inraged… No. I feel empty.’ the kid thought to himself as his emotions started to be emptied, as if something suppressed the anger.

He took a deep breath and opened his eyes.

He saw… What laid in front of him were not monsters nor an enemy, just another human being. A normal human who also walked, breathed, moved, laug-, talked just like him.

‘Are we really that much different? I wonder… if I was raised on the opposite side. Would I have also killed my brothers and master… for my own selfish beliefs? just because I was declared their opponent?’ the kid thought to himself.

The light-armored man who had a golden outline raises his sword towards the kid as he stares towards him like he was sizing him up. The man made a small expression of confusion as if something was supposed to happen but failed to do so but he smiled afterwards.

Dead silence covered the field.

The silence was broken by the kid.

‘Hey… why are we fighting?’ as he clings his fist.