The Villain's Apocalypse-Chapter 31: Trial II

Chapter 31: Trial II

"Truly a hell of a place," Cassian muttered, wiping the blood stains from his sword. He’d experienced a lot of murders, tortures, killings, etc, but this was on a whole different level.

"Thank god I’m not like the usual protagonist who gets scared of blood or outright faints from its mere smell. I don’t like to chicken out except for when I’m at a complete disadvantage." He recalled a few novels where the protagonist required constant character development just to get used to the murder. It made sense if you’re just a normal person living a quiet, peaceful life in your world, but Cassian was not a normal person, he was quite the opposite of normal.

fuu

"Quite a tough predicament I find myself in." He exhaled, raising his blade just as another wave of enemies surged toward him. They came relentlessly, pouring in like a goddamn waterfall.

slash

A thin, crimson trail traced its way across a soldier’s neck–a clean, precise cut. For a moment, he stood still, eyes wide with shock, as if unaware of what had just happened. Then, like a puppet with its strings severed, his body collapsed, and the wound blossomed into a river of red.

Another soldier stepped forward, rage burning in his eyes as he stomped over the fallen body.

"I hate the look on your face." Cassian grimaced.

He beheaded the man with a fluid motion, immediately parrying another incoming strike. His sword clashed against steel, ringing out amidst the chaos.

He hated how these soldiers were rushing toward their own deaths, being used like a meat shield without them even realizing it themselves. They were just pawns awaiting their death in the massive chess game between the kingdoms.

"Let’s just go with the plan." He marched forward, holding a steel sword in his right and a shield in his left hand, the shield he got through a random soldier’s dead body.

He already had a plan on how to get the staff from this trial–if only this goddamn fairy had followed the plot, then it would have been pretty easy.

—

The battle between the Vrahans and the Zheraths raged further as time went by. The Vrahans wanted to destroy the Zherath and reclaim the lands once conquered by their ancestors, whereas the Zherath wanted nothing more than to stop these power-hungry bastards from stealing their lands.

Inside a grand palace, a lone figure stood atop the towering balcony, his gaze piercing through the flames and bloodshed that engulfed the kingdom below. His regal robes, once pristine, were now rough and stained with the weight of war. The dim torchlight flickered across his hardened features, casting deep shadows that mirrored the despair within his heart.

"It seems I can’t protect this land any further," the king muttered, his voice carrying the exhaustion of a ruler who had fought for too long. The war had been ongoing for almost two years now, dead bodies continued to pile up each day. Some lost their husband, some lost their father while some lost their child. The war was quite unforgiving, it didn’t care whether they were poor or rich, good or evil, it just spread chaos and destruction.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, or perhaps it was the sound of siege weapons tearing through the palace walls. The enemy had breached the final gates near the capital city of Zherath. The final hour was upon them.

Due to their history dating thousands of years, the Vrahan kingdom was a lot more powerful than the Zherath kingdom, both in terms of technological advancement and tactical warfare.

"My Lord, someone is here to meet you."

"Who?"

"The Roaming Sage, my lord." The servant replied with a polite gesture. His eyes shone with immense respect and gratitude as he introduced the person.

"Call him in." The king announced, not bothering to turn back.

Shortly afterward, a man slowly entered the king’s room with a smile on his face. He was a middle-aged man with long black hair and amber eyes, adorning a green robe tinged with some black over his shoulders. He held a brown wooden staff in his right hand, etched in it a round orb of some kind. His steps were delicate and quiet as he calmly walked toward the king with a kind smile on his face.

"It’s been a while, my lord." He greeted, his voice soft and serene–almost magical.

"It has, Uravis." the king replied, his face marring a smile filled with sadness and pain.

The king of the Zherath Kingdom, Gehrald Zherath had very few individuals he could call friends, Uravis being one of them. They had known each other for a long time, long before Uravis earned the title of the Roaming Sage. He had once been the pride of the Zherath Kingdom, a genius in magic, the brightest mind to ever be born in a millennia.

Sadly, a genius had a different perspective of the world compared to regular beings. Uravis soon reached the limit of his growth inside a tiny kingdom like Zherath so, he followed the way of a sage and started his journey around the world.

His unusual kindness and honesty in a dangerous world filled with unimaginable terror set him apart from anyone else, earning him a great deal of fame and reputation. ’The Roaming Sage’ was a title given to him by the people he’d saved, not by some kingdom or empire.

"Why have you come here?"

"This is my home, your majesty." He firmly replied, continuing, "I can’t bear to watch my motherland get destroyed and taken away by the enemies. I’m its child too."

"I’m sorry Uravis but, I’ve failed...I’ve failed to protect this land, the people, and even the honor left behind by my ancestors. I’ve failed as a king." His voice grew weaker with each passing word. Stumbling on the floor, he slowly reached the throne, bowing down before it.

Fresh tears dropped from his eyes, an unfitting look for a king but, he was a human too.

"I come with a solution, Your Majesty," Uravis announced, his voice sifting the tone of the room instantly. Gherald’s entire body froze up after hearing those words. He swiftly appeared before him, clutching his shoulders tightly, he demanded, "Are you serious?"

His eyes were glowing with hope, hope for a better future for his kingdom.

"Yes." He smiled, matching his gaze. They both stared at each other for a while until Gherald realized the situation and released his grip from his shoulders.

He straightened his back and regained his regal aura, turning into a proper king figure.

"Elaborate." He replied, his tone sharp yet carrying a sense of kindness.

"Allow me to participate in the battle," Uravis answered, the smile never leaving his face.

"..."

silence...

A heavy, suffocating silence settled between them. King Gherald’s mouth twitched as he stared at him, his eyes peering whether it was the truth or a lie.

"You’re joking, right?" He asked, narrowing his eyes.

"No. I’m serious." Uravis’s voice was firm and filled with resolve, his will unbending.

"I’m not underestimating you but, what can a single individual do against an entire kingdom, one filled with rich history and powerful weapons capable of annihilating an entire city?"