As per usual, the clouds briskly changed their positions, but Lutiel no longer glanced at them. Standing beside his made bed, with firm feet on the ground, his eyes were shut tightly. Only focusing on the object in his hands, the sharp noises spiraling around him made no threat to his concentration, despite them only growing as more breaths fell out.

  Any of the conversations were cut off as he remained immured in the position, his back erect whilst the sword bared its tip towards the ceiling. Breathing steadily, he didn’t move a single whisker from the stance, much to the eeriness found in the demons passing by.

  Walking through the lane empty of beds in the very center, no one could stop themselves from glancing at least once at his odd behaviour.

  “Is he still doing it?” One of the demon soldiers suddenly stopped as he was going through the tent, promptly turning to the side before looking at the demon whose bed was directly against Lutiel’s.

  “Haa, yes, everyday for eight or so hours,” the man sighed, stuck at reading a book in his hand. Not even looking up at the passerby, he added on. “I don’t get why he’s doing it, if that’s what you’re planning to ask. He doesn’t say anything, well no, he doesn’t even gesture anything,” saying so, the other demon stopped looking at him.

  Turning to the human’s face for a moment, he watched him for a brisk moment before parting his lips at the closed eyelids. “Is this why you’re so strong? No way that’s true,” he muttered out in demonic, the man’s face remaining the same as countless breaths prior.

  With nothing going through him, the demon simply shook his head, promptly walking away.

  As he stood in the same space, a few more of such soldiers approached the human, an identical lack of a response coming out of him before the time steadily grew out, turning bleak and dull as the crystals above the space abated in radiance.

  Night settled with snores engulfing the space, only Lutiel standing frozen, however, even he began to falter. Suddenly flinching around the hilt, his blade fell down lightly. ‘I still can’t do it,’ he wondered to himself, staring at the calm metal for a few breaths.

  Yet, finding nothing around the dull surface, he moved the weapon back inside the scabbard, only to place it on the bed again.

  With the bare feet of his, he slowly headed out from the barracks, swiftly immersed in the night’s cold respire.

  Before long, his feet briskly stepped down onto the ground sprinkled with dots of blood. Imprinting his images into the soil, the man performed his moves, slowly getting his heart up to pace whilst recalling the movements inside the book Zyponia had bought him.

  One leg swiftly curving to the side, it was followed by another before the first moved once again. Settling in place, he scattered the blood within his arms as a punch followed in his tight position.

  Already moving back however, he repeated the motions, dancing underneath the bright moon’s veils.

  Leaving countless of his steps scattered throughout the place, the man glanced down at his actions, the heavy breaths leaving his mouth as he kept staring at the shape of a flower formed in the ground. Going out in eight different directions before flowing out towards the middle, Lutiel nodded his head after seeing the image, promptly raising his eyes to look around.

  Scouring through the camp though, all he saw was a lingering silence entwined with the nightly darkness. No soul reverberated in his eyes, a shallow breath leaving him before going back towards the tent again.

  Yet, he just as quickly left it one more time, this time with a pair of shoes in hands. Going towards the baths, Lutiel took a brisk and thorough wash in the nippy waters, arriving beside his bed before finally getting on top of it.

  Sitting with crossed legs, he put the sword on top of his lap, palming each end before closing his eyes. With an upright back, the man soothed his mind for yet another time.

  Numbing the thoughts to but a stream of respires, Lutiel cut off the noises reverberating through the place completely, immersing himself utterly and solely on his being. He didn’t care how much time flew by, or that he didn’t rest by sleeping.

  All he needed to do at the moment was close his mind off from the imminent disruptions. No longer able to tell whether he was holding onto the scabbard, the elusive material slipped off from his touch. Neither the palms nor the thighs were able to tell.

  Seemingly cut off from existence despite clearly being in his grasp, Lutiel didn’t focus on the sword anymore. Something more important followed in the sensations. The cushions he sat on lost themselves, disappearing into the unknown as his eyelids calmed.

  He floated through the dark space, slowly lingering in the bubble of nothingness.

  Nonetheless, not completely. His bodily parts touching against each other, he could still feel it. The heat, the heartbeat, the faintest of tremors, they all remained there. Though, not for long. Steadily slipping by into a faint grasp of sensations, the man witnessed them gradually start to disappear.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  Alas, as far as he had gone, the man flinched at the sudden tide crashing through him, everything returning briskly as the ringing exploded through his ears. Glancing at the dawn peeking through the entrance, he watched the armored knights come through the inside, ringing on the large, metallic discs, blows of horns hammering in the distance far away.

  “GET UP! WE’RE BEING ATTACKED!” One of the knights with a horn on his head shouted away, easily making all of their eyes stumble wide open.

  “Gear up and gather in front of the barracks!” Another voice followed in, although it didn’t drown out in the ringing of the metal. Easily making the soldiers stumble awake, they swiftly flinched out of their beds, as though their lives depended on the very moment.

  Briskly getting up before reaching to the side of their beds, they quickly brought out the padding from the drawers, jumping hastily to get their legs inside properly. Tossing the gambeson on their torso, they swiftly tied it before getting down underneath the bed, pulling out the plethora of armor pieces lying freely.

  Yet, as the knights were hurriedly gathering up, Lutiel was already set and soon arrived beside the officers, underneath their unimpressed expressions. “Ready to kill as usual, huh? If only these guys were as eager as you, Stone, we could have gotten the artifact already,” the one without any equipment spoke out, in a tongue the man could understand.

  However, Stone simply passed their shoulders, not glancing once at the men before leaving the officer to sour up. With a crooked smile, he turned to stare at his moving back, a hand falling at his shoulder a breath later. “Have you still not learned his antics? He’s been this way everyday, ignore him already,” another officer spoke out, promptly making him nod mindlessly before falling back at the soldiers.

  Countless breaths later however, they were able to finish putting on their armors, rattles growing in the mud as they steadily headed towards the carriages, swiftly seated inside the spaces before going away from the camp.

  As the soldiers' heads stayed on the verge of snoozing, Lutiel crossed his arms, sitting with an erect back and closed eyes. Despite feeling the near glances fall on him as he sat in between the demons, he didn’t respond to the curiosity, simply waiting for the arrival on the battlefield.

  Fortunately, the journey didn’t prolong itself. Almost as though a fresh breath left him, he saw the enemies already, peering to the side and seeing the changing line in the horizon, made from hundreds of silhouettes.

  All identical in their attires, a cold sun shone out in the middle of their chests, a ready sword gleaming on the side of their figures as they moved towards the incoming carriages.

  Witnessing the demonic army gathering in formations themselves, they didn’t stop regardless, pushing forward more and more whilst cutting through the destroyed grasses of the plains.

  Before long however, the officers of the enemies raised their arms, stopping their approach as they eyed the demons, their leaders doing the same. Roughly a hundred steps away from each other, the two lines of knights stopped, followed by the silence suspended in the air.

  Yet, standing at the very front of the line, many of the demons replicated Lutiel’s actions. Lowering his legs slightly, he brought the sword out near his thigh, to not impede his running. Creaking the leather on the hilt, he stood still, waiting underneath the heavy breath and whispers around him.

  Out of nowhere, bellows of horns rang throughout the field, marrying with the squeaks of bows, as well as the clattering, hurried footsteps. Immediately, Lutiel started running through the space, his shoulders brought down low, but he didn’t cut through the ground with his sword.

  Glancing up, he quickly saw the countless lines appear in the skies, standing out through the clouds as they cut the wind with faint whistles. Still, the arrows were unable to target him from the sheer pace he produced.

  The man briskly sped out away from his companions, leaving them behind completely, already closing half of the gap imposed by both parties.

  However, as his eyes fell down, he caught a glint in between the shining armors. An arrow shone out to his eyes, making his eyebrows fall slightly as he witnessed it cut through the space with fearsome swiftness. Seeing the wind around it churning unnaturally, he jumped to the side before continuing to run.

  Within the same breath, the arrow devoured through the path he took previously, before the first arrows could even descend. Rummaging through the ground and leaving deep trails, the officers on the demonic side could only voice their annoyance, one which Lutiel no longer heard.

  With widened eyes, he scoured through the enemy lines, watching their front figures run at him proudly. Despite his staggering approach, cutting through the grounds with each step he took, they glanced at him fearlessly, with a deep, clouding vigour entwined inside their eyes.

  The magical arrows no longer appeared on his path, and before long, he took the final step before his arms flowed up. Arriving before the human knight in front of him, Lutiel lowered his body further, at the same time pointing the tip straight at the guarded stance.

  Despite being fast enough to put the blade up, his purple eyes rang out through the slits of his helmet. Scouring the knight up and down, the sword turned to touch the armor, easily making contact with the plates.

  He cut through the tough to the eye material, promptly going through further as the padding set no resistance. Simultaneously, his impact threw the man off, making him stumble before bringing the momentum deeper into the enemy army.

  Swiftly, Lutiel made tens of the knights stumble to the ground as he ravaged through the ranks, despite his army having yet to make contact with the enemy.

  Standing on top of the man he impaled his sword through, Lutiel glanced around the small, emptied patch of ground he had created, frantic knights lying around it, briskly trying to get up.

  Yet, before they could, those beyond them stepped on their living corpses, burying their soles in their faces whilst trying to get through towards the man.

  As they hurried through the space, Lutiel’s figure still rested. Glancing down at the disappearing light from the human’s eyes, he slowly pulled the blade away from his stomach, not caring to smear his blood off as he gradually tossed himself to the side slightly.

  The man evaded a blade coming from behind, fiercely stepping to the side before slashing towards the skies. Immediately, a shocked face ingrained itself within his eyes, promptly dropping as the torso fell separated from the legs.