The Black Legion rampaged across this planet without restraint.
They held absolute dominion over this world.
All they encountered were the weak.
All they saw were mortals.
When they swung their blades, those mortals fell in rows like wild grass before the wind.
When they fired, the resisters burst into sprays of blood beneath their cruel grins.
They reveled in the thrill of death and harvest.
They trampled upon the dignity of honor and sacrifice.
They savored the taste of fear and trembling.
Children, elders, slaves, nobles—they were all the same now.
They begged and wept.
They knelt on the ground.
They longed for mercy.
What came to them was despair.
They resisted, and they were slaughtered.
They continued to resist, and they continued to be slaughtered.
Their flesh and blood were made into offerings.
Their skulls became decorations.
Skulls were impaled upon the spears of black figures, and battle skirts sewn from human skin bore twisted human faces. Despair shrouded Gedi'an.
Until—
They heard a call.
An ancient call, as though from the Dark Age.
Filled with hatred, fury, and endless blazing wrath.
It roared at them.
A slave.
He saw with his own eyes the savage black knight who had killed a noble crash into another giant, smashing into the chaos like a falling boulder.
The war between them was like a war between gods.
Blinding sparks flashed where the two collided head-on.
Furious battle cries clashed like holy words between gods.
They moved swiftly.
People constantly fell around them.
Amid roar after roar.
A black tide slammed viciously into another torrent.
The splashing "water."
Fell heavily again.
Turning into minced flesh before him.
Death was the most inconspicuous, most insignificant thing on the battlefield.
They did not know what one side was chanting.
But they could feel