1,000,000 Karma: My Reward Is a Quiet Life-Chapter 54: Once Upon a Time: The Saint of Blade’s Final Dance, Part Two
Enhanced by the peerless craft of the kobold, the five-headed colossus moved through the air quickly, causing the wind to hum in the path of its massive body. In mere moments of its arrival, the abomination’s aimless taste for destruction turned leagues of the lush, verdant valley into lifeless soil, laid asunder by fire and lightning.
Beyond the walls of the city, its people prayed and cheered. Perhaps for the first time in centuries, each individual was united in their wishes, their will–"Triumph, Octavius!"
"Please, Sir Octavius..." A mother held her hands together in her home as the walls rumbled.
As the bestial beams scaled miles in the air, seeking to cut through the towering walls, the lone knight paced to intercept them.
’I’ve never been good at dealing with massive monsters–never been my specialty. But, I have to step up now,’ the thought permeated through the Saint’s mind.
Between the walls of the kingdom he fought for and the incoming rays of decimation that stretched miles, he placed himself. Into the decaying soil, he smashed his boots, solidifying his stance as he swung his treasured sword forth–
Just in time, the emerald light clashed against the five-headed calamity’s attack. A harrowing hum filled the entirety of the region as the black-and-red beams were held at bay by nothing more than the jade edge and the knight’s persistence.
"Nngh...!" Octavius clenched his teeth, squeezing the handle of his weapon, drawing out the furthest extent of the emerald shine.
He drew everything he could from the deepest depths of his being, pushing the eviscerating light of jade forth, and through the calamitous blaze–
All at once, the five heads were severed as the emerald glow sailed freely, leaving the legendary monster dropping down into a mountain of gushing flesh. The moment he felled one monster, more descended on his position.
While he exhaled tiredly, the result was the same–
No matter what terrible tales the feared monsters held, in the path of a desperate Saint of Blades, they were all meat to be cut down.
A river of putrid blood hydrated the hollow valley, along the trail of monstrous corpses left in the lonesome swordsman’s passage. Beyond the mountains, the one who hid behind the scourge was found in his revolting form; the rat-faced warlock, sat upon a seat of charred bones sat upon the backs of dutiful orcs.
"Phismor," Octavius said in an exhale as his treasured blade dripped with the blood of monsters.
At the ruling kobold’s side towered an ogre with onyx skin and draping, jet-black hair, wielding a blunt weapon that resembled the tooth of a great beast. It was a figure immediately recognized by the lone hero–if an appearance wasn’t enough, then the tense air around the chiseled warrior was more than enough.
["Aston, The Saint of Clubs"]
No words were needed between the force that fought for mankind, and those that sought to conquer it.
["It is said when Saints clash, the world weeps and the heavens bear witness. For normal people, it is a spectacle unable to be observed, as the resulting destruction would leave any onlookers obliterated."]
The land was a canvas in which the Saints used their craft to paint it, carving through it all with grace and without.
Craters scattered the region as if the world had been struck by perfect meteors.
The Saint of Clubs leapt for the clouds, raising his blunt weapon and bringing it down—
From below, Octavius witnessed the sky part by the sheer force commanded by his contemporary’s strength. He sprinted across the valley as the wind trembled, as if the sky itself was crashing down—
THWOOM.
—A crater the size of a city imprinted itself on the world.
In the span of a few swings of the club etched with the monstrous Saint’s craft, the land looked as though it’d been bombarded by meteors.
Octavius sprinted with the haste of lightning, swiping his emerald blade to return the favor to his rival. The jade light cut across the sky, bleeding into the dusk its illumination majesty.
The unbreakable club in the hand of Aston served as a perfect shield, though the ogre bled nonetheless. As both Saints’ feet met the earth, confronting club against sword, their clash engraved itself upon the valley.
Ravines cleaved through soil and stone, lacerating the valley while impacts pulverized it in tandem. Enough clashes left the knight’s armor dented, his left arm entirely crushed into nothing more than bent metal around shredded flesh.
However–
The Saint of Clubs stood over him, lifting his unbreakable club, only it was never swung. From the midsection of the daunting legend, a cut cleaner than the knifework of a world-renowned chef left Aston’s top half sliding off his waist.
Octavius’ helm slid off his head as he leaned over, using his sword to support his balance. From above, the watchful clouds shined warm, golden light over the desecrated valley, or what was left of it.
["A triumph witnessed by the Heavens."] 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂
With a tattered body and shattered bones, the Saint of Blades dragged himself through the piles of monster corpses. Those remaining fled, abandoning the kobold that shouted incomprehensible orders at them, to no avail.
While the dark magic wielded by the warlock was enough to crumble kingdoms, in direct combat, Phismor was no more threatening than a simple goblin. Each step forward splashed the putrid blood that ran like a swamp.
With each breath, the driven knight felt his soul growing all the more distant from his body, growing numb to even his broken limbs.
"Aka...Aka–!" The kobold vigorously shook his head in fear of the approaching knight.
One last time, the jade blade shined with the glimmer of humanity’s hope, brought down upon the scrooge that pushed mankind to the brink.
["With that...My duty is finished."]
–
["...I remember..."]
There the Savior held his glowing blade back as the palace housed only the emerald shine within its walls.
"Rain," Noah called out to the one behind him, keeping his gaze forward. "Forget about trying to banish him."
"What–?" Rain asked in utter confusion. "That’s the only way! This is a former Saint we’re talking about! A hero written about in history books! You can’t handle him!"
Noah squeezed the handle of his onyx axe, "Just trust me on this."
"Trust? It’s not just your life at stake here–"
While Rain protested, all of her arguments went out the window when the pale-blue eyes of the man in front of her looked back, paired with a fond, reassuring smile. What went through the exorcist’s mind wasn’t mere trust, but curiosity. Up until this moment, it seemed the axe-wielding adventurer was capable of cutting through all their problems–
["Can he do this, too?"]
That question resonated through her mind, bearing witness to the duel of the unknown man and the once Saint of Blades.
"A head-on clash with everything on the line?" Noah questioned, pulling his weapon back in a readied stance. "I’ve got no other choice, do I?"
The wordless look from the burnt knight answered him succinctly; everything was consumed in the glow of jade, leaving only a single motion separating life and death.
