“You have some clever tricks, but all this jumping around—are you sure you’re trying to defeat me? Or are you just showing off for your guests?”
Kashue’s face stiffened at Beld’s words. Beld used the opening to counterattack, lunging for Kashue’s throat. He barely dodged, falling over backwards to avoid the blade.
Kashue rolled smoothly back to his feet and thrust. Beld had taken a step forward with another giant swing—but he stopped just short of being impaled on Kashue’s blade, having noticed something out of place at the last moment.
“My audience enjoys a good comeback.” Kashue smiled fearlessly, withdrew his sword, and reset his stance.
Beld lowered his blade in kind. “Was that little tumbling trick supposed to fool me?”
“You assumed you knew everything about me from my sword, but there is more to me than what you see. I am proud of my whole life. I don’t hide where I came from.”
“You’re a more interesting man than I suspected. But after a battle with Fahn, this fight holds no excitement for me.” Beld rotated the shoulder that Fahn had stabbed—it hurt, but it was nothing he couldn’t endure. His left leg still supported his weight.
“Lucky for me. I’ll just slay you and add that to my list of kingly achievements,” Kashue said, holding out his sword horizontally in front of him.
“Good.” Beld raised his sword above his head in both hands. “This would be boring otherwise.”
“I will end the age of heroes. I want my people to live pleasantly boring and uneventful lives,” Kashue said and struck at Beld like lightning.
He had already seen the way Beld fought. The man’s strength and intuition were superhuman, and his sword moved like a wild beast. Every movement was powerful, heavy, and precise—he didn’t need finesse. But Kashue could tell that his own movements were just a tiny bit faster. And his sword’s enchantment meant he didn’t need to swing forcefully—a light touch would slice through his enemy’s armor.
Extending his elbow and flipping his wrist made a weak strike, but the point of his blade would move quite quickly. In his mind, Kashue could see himself evading the black blade and chopping Beld’s head off. He could practically see how it would go.
But then, as if reading his thoughts, Beld sped up.
So, he had another trick up his sleeve. But Kashue was ready to die. And at this rate, he was sure that he and Beld would end up slaying each other. He suspected Beld knew that that was the most likely outcome, too. A thought flashed across Kashue’s mind—dying here would mean he’d be called a hero, just like King Fahn and Emperor Beld.
But it was not to be. Out of nowhere, a single arrow struck Beld deep in his left shoulder. It knocked Beld’s sword off course—Kashue dodge it with a hair’s breadth to spare.
Their eyes locked. Beld’s pupils widened as he realized what was about to happen.
Guided by that look, Kashue swung. His blade sheared through the Dark Emperor’s neck and sent his head flying into the air. The headless torso collapsed on top of Fahn’s corpse.
“Your Majesty!”
The warrior Parn was fighting stopped when he saw Kashue’s final blow.
“Kashue, King of Flaim, you coward!” the warrior cried, voice dripping with contempt. “My name is Ashram! Remember this—I will make you pay for this someday!”
He walked over to where Beld’s head had landed, picked it up, then turned and began leaving the battlefield, the other guards following close behind.
For a moment, Parn considered attacking Ashram, but threats aside, he just couldn’t bring himself to strike a retreating enemy from behind. He sheathed his sword. Ashram had been a fearsome foe, and Parn had barely held out against him. Defending was all Parn had been able to manage before their fight was interrupted. Parn felt pathetic. He knew he’d have to find a way to get stronger if he wanted to protect the people he loved.
Kashue walked over looking haggard and exhausted, all of his usual spirit gone. It seemed that even the Mercenary King had his limits.
“I’m so glad you’re safe,” Parn said with a salute.
Kashue sighed. “I defeated him dishonorably. That’s not how I wanted it to go, but that’s how it played out. I suppose my destiny will be my judge.” He frowned at Parn. “I know this will be an awful task, but I need you to deliver King Fahn’s body to Roid.”
Kashue nodded to Parn’s group, then said, “You know…getting to know you all is the only good to come out of this war. I hope you’ll visit my country when you get the chance. I would be happy to welcome all of you.”
He fell silent for a moment to honor the two dead heroes before him. Then, without another word, he turned and began to lead his remaining knights on the long trek back to Flaim, where another war awaited them.
Twilight was descending on the battlefield. Parn stared dumbfounded at the corpses of the two heroes, vaguely aware that their deaths were truly the end of an era.
“I can’t forgive Karla for this,” Slayn growled—none of his companions had ever seen him so angry before.
“This is exactly what that witch had planned,” Etoh commented with a scowl. “Marmo and Valis are exhausted, and there are civil wars going on all over Lodoss. Despite the influence of Pharis across the island, it will be a long time before there is any peace here.” He set his mouth in a determined line. “But that is the task before me. I’m going to help Master Genart rebuild Lodoss.”
“You’ll do it,” Deedlit said with a nod to Etoh. Then she turned to Parn and wrapped him in the tightest hug she could. After a second, Parn hugged her in return, rubbing her back gently—and struggling to breathe in her vice-like grip.
Then he let out a scream, a single word, “Karla!” That one word felt like a release for all the sick emotions swirling inside him. His voice carried across the battlefield, but there was no one left alive to hear him.
The sun was setting, bathing the ground in another layer of red.
“I heard that Elm is dead,” Slayn said simply, wondering who had survived the day. “But what of Marmo’s court wizard, Wagnard—does he yet live?” With Beld gone, they had no idea what would happen to Marmo…nor what Valis would do without Fahn. The entire future of Lodoss was chaos.
“Let’s go home,” Deedlit whispered to Parn, her voice full of tears. “Roid will be safe. Let’s regroup there. I just… There’s too much sadness here. Even the sight of these goblins laid out on the ground is sad. I know that if they came back to life, we’d have to fight them again, but right now…I only wish they’d get up and start moving.”
“Mm,” Slayn agreed, voice gentle. “We should go back, Parn. We’re still alive, and the living can do more than the dead. Let’s return and deal with the aftermath of this battle however we can.” Slayn couldn’t help but frown. He wondered if this was really what he’d wanted.
It made him think of his old friend. He’d been so certain of the divide between absolute good and absolute evil. But there was no justice left in Lodoss now. Evil didn’t exist; it was covered in a grey curse forced to maintain eternal equilibrium. Parn’s scream had expressed exactly what Slayn wanted to say.
“Karla.” Slayn shivered as he whispered the name. “I will never forgive you. You shouldn’t even exist.”
They carried Fahn’s remains back to Roid. The Marmo army had also attacked the capital city, destroying and pillaging parts of it. The city of Roid was mourning to begin with, but the news of the death of their Hero King, their symbol of justice, seemed to turn sadness to despair. The only kings of Lodoss were disorder and chaos.
Genart, high priest of the Pharis Temple, took on the role of defending the public for a while. He released the riches and supplies of the temple to aid the victims of the war.
This gesture did much to keep the country together. Though the windfall only stretched through Roid and its surrounding areas, it was enough to keep Valis from falling apart.
Parn and his friends had much to do. Warriors, wizards, and priests were in great demand. Deedlit, Ghim, and even Woodchuck all pitched in to maintain public order in Valis.
Before they knew it, a whole month had passed. Valis eventually calmed, and by the time the smiles had returned to the residents’ faces, the group had disappeared like they’d never been there at all.