Will of the Battlefield

"I seek forgiveness for not recognizing your highness sooner," Antonio Goldcaster said.

And as soon as he said that, John Prada and Ildiem Zenonar bent their knees as well.

They greeted their king. John was from a noble family, he had seen the king from afar on several occasions.

Ildiem, on the other hand, was trembling. All this time he was not aware that the one he was talking to was the king they served, the ruler of this envied kingdom.

Max’s eyes gleamed. He always wanted to meet the king, the man who held the reins of this sovereignty.

Thane stood there immovable like a statue. Unlike Max, he was dazed by something else, the seven lines that were drawn on his face.

Yesterday, he was able to meet three men with five lines, and today, the very top of power.

Seven-lined blessed are considered god-like entities. They can move mountains and demolish cities with nothing but a flick of their fingers.

In the warring period, it was nearly impossible to reach such a level without being killed by enemies or allies. Only one thing indicated such rarity, that this man was absolutely unmatched.

All seven-lined blessed are considered Titled Generals, a name specifically chosen for them.

Every kingdom has its own Titled Generals.

Bentram Kingdom had four such generals, apart from the king, known as the "Four Heavenly Heroes."

Drevlorn Dynasty called theirs the "Nine Roaming Dragons."

The Great Murak Empire had the highest number of Titled Generals, named the "Eleven Warlords."

The Khanate of Tharun’kai groomed their talents into the "Four Great Khans."

The Sultanate of Khol called their Titled Generals the "Five Storms of the Desert."

The Land of Sun, or Soland, designated them as the "Two Rays of the Sun."

Krynova Kingdom denominated theirs the "Three Mighty Paladins."

And lastly, the Republic of Tataria, a nation with the lowest number of Titled Generals, had only one, called the "Unbreakable Spear."

Each one of them had been given a special right, a right to freely wage war, a very powerful but double-edged authority.

Allowing them to gather a massive number of troops, reaching 100,000. One could not reach such a level with powerful blessings alone, he had to win the trust of the ruler.

A few decades ago, the Sultanate of Khol made such a mistake. It was the biggest nation of that time, stretching from the southeast to the southwest, with twelve Titled Generals at their disposal.

Until a certain Titled General revolted, allied with four more. A war of independence erupted, and five Titled Generals died.

Once the mightiest nation was now crumbled into two. The Great Murak saw the opportunity and launched another attack, shrinking it further.

Such was the power of a seven-lined blessed, and a person of such might was in front of Thane.

But for some strange reason that Thane couldn’t comprehend, he was not overwhelmed, just as he had been when he met the two old men and Reginald Seraph.

He felt a welcoming warmth. Despite the powerful appearance of the king, he was different.

His deep eyes watched Thane with cold judgment. Thane looked back into those eyes and felt exhaustion in them, his instincts told him.

"Any news of your grandfather?" the king asked.

Thane snapped back into reality and replied hesitatingly. "N-no, he is gone."

Does the king know about grandfather too? Before Reginald and now the king. A sense of pride and sadness woke inside him.

He could barely remember his grandfather, only vague memories and paintings that hung around his home.

"The duel is about to end," said the silver masked man, he was the most excited about the match amongst the guests.

Down at the centre of the shattered obsidian ground lay Hawk.

Vidu was standing above him, wearing the skin of something that was no longer human, his gauntlet-like fists glowing red as heat emerged from them.

Scorching hot, as if the sun had descended and embraced itself inside those fists.

And before Hawk could blink, the fist hammered down like a meteor.

BOOOM

With a blast so massive that almost everyone covered their ears, fire erupted into pillars.

From within that engulfing blaze crawled out the man in diamond, Hawk.

His head was bleeding, a deep fracture could be seen inside the emerald diamond. He stood up, his chest heaving as he took deep breaths.

A hand came from the smoke and fire, a hand equipped with liquid flames. Hawk caught a glimpse of it and before it could reach him, he slashed it with his claws.

Vidu grunted. "Still persisting... Argh..."

Something was happening to Vidu, his head started to hurt.

"Damn it, I can’t stay in this form for long. The curse is devouring me," he said to himself, pain and perhaps a bit of regret in his voice.

The thirst for power had sent him beyond acceptable human norms, regardless of whether he won or not, he had lost everything. 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

His eyes landed on Hawk, whose emerald diamond body had blood on it, dripping smoothly from his head.

"You... it is because of you," said Vidu through gritted fangs.

Hawk was suffering not only from the impact but from the heat as well, panting like a race dog.

"We had an empire, we were undisputed. Why did you destroy it?" Vidu screamed, a shrilling voice from something horrific.

Hawk looked down at the blood that was once within his body.

"I wanted to destroy everything he had created, including Diamond Head, Shark and The Fiend," Hawk said as he wheezed.

Vidu pressed his head, the horns were killing him, strange whispers echoed in his mind.

"You fucking liar... Diamond Head is not dead..." He pointed at Hawk.

Hawk shook his head as he walked forward with a limp, the impact had damaged his leg as well. A bloodless blunt wound.

"Diamond Head shall die today. He’ll be buried with you," Hawk said.

Vidu’s eyes were reddened with rage, he wanted to speak but the words no longer sounded human.

"Diamond Head is what Morris created. I will kill him as well.

But Hawk... this is the name my mother gave me, and he will continue to roam the heights of the sky."

Vidu growled. He bit himself, scratched the horns and everything that might give him the name of a madman.

"The cursed beast is taking over his mind," Reginald mumbled, getting ready to jump into the fray whenever needed.