Vagha is Calling Me...

Blackheart's lips curled upward, his wanton laughter cutting through the howling wind and sand:

"Aha, what an honorable battle. I never imagined that one day I would engage in a fight to the death with a scion of the Zagwell Clan."

His gaze locked onto the battle-axe in Kas's hand, a weapon forged by the hands of a Baize Shaman: "Is she named Luna?"

"Correct, she is my daughter..."

"Very well, then we share the same reason to slaughter one another. There is no feat more honorable than dying for one's own kin."

Blackheart lowered his battle-axe and shield, raised his index fingers toward the heavens, and looked up at the unreachable gods:

"Vagha! Witness this, I shall step into your halls without a shred of fear."

Having finished his declaration, Blackheart's expression was not as grim as Kas's, but rather filled with ease; he picked up his battle-axe and struck his shield with force.

Amidst the clanging rhythm of metal, he began to chant the ancient war song that had echoed through the Sorrow Mountains for a thousand years, his voice long and impassioned:

"Thump, thump, thump~"

"Comet light, tearing the eternal night.

Barren peaks, verdant plains."

He took a step forward, the crisp echo of his axe striking his shield adding a sense of solemnity to the battle.

Blackheart's toes pushed off the rugged ridge, and he lunged toward Kas. The heavy armor and shield did not hinder the fierce warrior in the slightest, and his first axe strike swung violently toward his opponent's neck.

Blackheart was fast, but Kas's reaction was equally decisive. He swung his axe sideways, intercepting the weapon aimed at his shoulder, then tensed his marble-like body to twist his elbow, striking toward Blackheart's cheek with a close-quarters combat technique.

A tower shield with a razor-sharp edge protected Blackheart's cheek. Axe against axe, shield against bone—they emitted different sounds at almost the exact same moment:

"Bang!"

"Thud!"

The first clash of arms ended, and both sides were surprised by the other's strength.

Kas side-stepped to create distance, his storm-like strikes piercing the iron sand as he hacked fiercely at the sturdy tower shield.

Screech—

The razor-sharp battle-axe easily sliced through a corner of the tower shield. The crisp sound of metal being cut echoed in the air, and beneath the notch, Blackheart's eyes burned with fanaticism.

Xipei crouched low, his tower shield arching from bottom to top.

A wall of iron trapped Kas in a narrow space. The one-handed battle-axe, glowing with a dark red aura, was gripped firmly in his hand, striking with the reckless and lethal force of a python.

He did not hesitate; the shield slammed into Kas's chest. The impact, carrying immense force, produced the sound of shattering bone and tearing sinew upon contact. The battle-axe, prepared well in advance, caught a sharp gust of wind and struck Kas's waist and abdomen.

The sound of ribs piercing soft internal organs followed, accompanied by a roar of ruthless fury.

Kas, not yet a seasoned veteran, chose an extremely dangerous follow-up move.

He let go of his axe, used the momentum of the slash to spin his body, and swung his arm in a horizontal sweep.

Using a weapon one-handed actually provides a wider reach than two-handed, creating an extra margin of space, and this single margin is often the key to victory or defeat in battle.

Bang!

Like a fierce whirlwind, the attack following the furious slash utilized the shield that had been shaved down. The tip of the axe blade grazed Blackheart's forehead, eyes, and lips.

Dark red blood flowed out, inch by inch, obscuring his vision. The experienced Xipei endured the excruciating pain, released his battle-axe with his right hand, and instead gripped his tower shield, adjusting his stance to deliver a fierce shield bash against the still-spinning Kas.

A sturdy, powerful arm snapped; the sharp radius bone pierced through the skin, protruding from the elbow. Kas was sent flying backward by the violent blow, his left arm completely mangled.

With a blank expression, he pushed the broken radius back into his forearm and held Luna level to continue this meaningless slaughter.

He then saw Blackheart, who had bent down to pick up his battle-axe, let out a joyful laugh.

Blackheart struck his notched tower shield with his axe, his rugged face—now missing an eye—filled with joy. His impassioned and enthusiastic expression looked nothing like someone engaged in a fight to the death.

"Bang~"

"Bang~"

"Dawn on the horizon, signaling opportunity.

When I rise, I shall rule the world of men."

Amidst the singing, countless warriors hidden within the thick iron sand revealed their silhouettes.

Some struck their shields with battle-axes, others pounded the ground, responding to the warrior who carried a death-wish with voices just as impassioned and hoarse.

The drumbeats grew dense like a falling curtain, and the fanatical, blood-red emotion dyed the iron filings in the wind into a scarlet halo as smoke and dust filled the air.

"Cold wind of the eternal night, left behind.

Black crow spreads its wings, overlooking the realm.

War songs, legends, and death, join the ranks of the heroic spirits!"

The desolate, long-drawn war song poured into Kas's ears. He looked around at the ridge filled with dark red figures.

Though he was a wandering soul who should have felt nothing, a surge of hot blood flowed through his heart.

Each of them was different—missing an arm, lacking an eye, or possessing only half a body—constantly shifting in the dim, hazy environment of Iron Peak Mountain, roaring with everything they had for the faith of a warrior.

"Forge the alliance, swear the oath, revel in the plunder.

Brothers of the clan, in the name of blood.

Thunder falls, the storm draws near, only honor remains."

Blackheart struck his shield with force, a silent invitation for the scions of the Zagwell Clan to join this sacred ritual of sending off a warrior.

Even if they were slaughtering one another for the sake of kin, victory or defeat alike was a tremendous honor.

But the battle itself was the greatest honor of all.

Kas began to chant a familiar ballad in a low voice, the boiling blood flowing like fine silk as it transformed into a scorching river amidst their fervent emotions.

They roared and chanted, raising their weapons as they charged toward one another; the intense roar of colliding battle-axes served as a hymn to Vagha, and the unyielding courage displayed in the slaughter was the very will of Pierce.

"Oh~ woah~ Vagha is calling me!

Crimson earth, raise the banners and march afar.

Spilled on the battlefield, blood and glory.

Sturdy shields, shattered and scattered--swords and axes clash."

The prolonged slaughter saw battle-axes collide countless times, shields and wills both as stubborn as iron, for warriors proving their honor before the gods fought with the most persistent of convictions.

Kas's fist struck Xipel's cheek, sending several bloodied teeth rolling down the mountain ridge.

Xipel landed an elbow strike, hitting Kas square in the chin, shattering his jaw and leaving his face nearly paralyzed.

The warriors in the midst of the slaughter sang the ancient war song together:

"Flames rise, beacon fires spread.

Glory guides the way to Vagha Hall.

Oh~ woah~ Vagha is calling me!"

Kas kneaded his nearly necrotic arm; his face, shoulders, and torso had almost lost all sensation.

He should have defended against Blackheart's final lunge, yet he chose the most aggressive path, swinging his fist as he charged forward once more.

"Cold winds and death lead me forward, cold winds and death grant me freedom.

Oh~ woah~ Vagha is calling me!"

Xipel harbored the same thought; his vision was stained red with blood, and his arms were nearly pulverized under the unreasonable, terrifying strength of Kas, yet he still raised his hands, filled with fanaticism.

"Fate guides the way, a glorious day to die!

Oh~ woah~ Vagha is calling me!"

The collision of fists was an interweaving of blood and fire, death and cold winds.

Relying on the advantage of his body weight, Kas's final lunge knocked Blackheart down; he pinned Xipel's throat, abandoning his initial thought of showing mercy to Blackheart.

To a warrior intent on meeting death, any form of mercy was an insult!

Kas and Xipel roared the final chapter of the ancient war song together, bathed in blood as they brought this battle of honor, witnessed by the gods, to its conclusion.

"Oh~ woah~ Vagha is calling me!

Golden light, fine wine, and ballads.

We shall eventually die, but glory never fades!

Vagha is calling, ascending to the ranks of the ancestors!"

As his wandering soul began to fade, Blackheart gazed with unfocused eyes at the blurred silhouette within the dark clouds, slowly raising his index finger, palm facing the sky.

His lips moved, but no sound emerged; he closed his eyes in a silent laugh.

The singing, the howling, and the wind-blown sand gradually ceased, and Iron Peak Mountain became as gray and dim as the eyes of Xipel Blackheart, his face wearing the satisfaction of a heroic death... just like Tina, the daughter he had never seen with his own eyes.

He had feared the arrival of the things he saw in his dreams, obeyed the hidden oracle from the beyond, and accepted the madness triggered by a fleeting glimpse of the future, coming from the dreams of the past to this moment to fight for the two daughters he had never met.

The wind carried away the wandering soul turned to dust; those dreams immersed in his heart would eventually drift in the moonlight sweeping across the mountain peaks.

He and they died without meaning, yet they were full of honor.