[Layland Kleinhaus' POV]
My heart beats in excitement after so long. I have come to terms with my manic obsession with battles, so I am past the point of being in denial. Although I spent most of my days fighting with Ddraig or Albion in Ne Okozmo, none of our fights excited me. I still enjoy them, of course, but it would have been better if I could kill, which is ridiculous.
Calming my heart down so I don't lose my cool like I often did during my training in Ne Okozmo, I properly look at the seven small golden barriers scattered throughout the battlefield. I quirk an eyebrow, slightly amazed. Some people managed to survive. Although I didn't put my all into my attack, I can guarantee the lethality of the attack will even make a Dragon avoid it.
"Ah, I have seemed to get arrogant," I mutter in realization.
I cringe inwardly at how insignificant I view the army. If it was two months ago, I would undoubtedly devise a scheme to face the army instead of wiping them by myself. I already had the power, but it was still sleeping. I can't say it has fully awakened now, but things have changed. I can already utilize the power and only have to improve my control over it.
"You will regret ever making this decision; The Ninth's Right Hand, Layland Kleinhaus!"
As the golden barriers are crumbling, a resounding voice can be heard among the sea of dead bodies. The sole Priest survivor faces me with his ashen face and glares at me with his bloodshot eyes. His body is still permeating terror which heavily contradicts the hatred he has in his eyes. I can't stop a small smile from forming.
From the information that my amazing Black Agents have gathered, I have acquired a lot of monikers from around the world. Some are hilarious while others are so corny that I don't want to remember them. That said, I am not too fond of my monikers. They keep growing daily, making me wonder what I have done to deserve them.
The depressing reality erases my amusement. I tweak the space a little, step forward, and appear before the Priest who immediately falls on his butt and wets his pants. I don't even have Rexorem in my hand as it is still busy sucking all of the blood spilled on the battlefield but still managed to knock the soul out of his body.
'I guess being looked down on by a 20-foot-tall monstrosity is scary enough,' I note mentally. "Why am I going to regret my decision?"
"G-God will not stay quiet! The Evil shall lose and the Good is bound to prevail!"
"I didn't expect much but that is a very religious answer—illogical."
"We have numberless armies that are blessed by God. Your condemned, measly armies will never stand a chance before such force!"
"Sounds challenging."
"What?"
I click my tongue inwardly. I am slightly disappointed that the guy easily faltered. The Temple has too many cowards. It should have been more selective toward the people they accept.
Ignoring the Priest, I glance at the Paladins rushing at me. I doubt it was planned by the Priest, so this is highly likely their attempt to let the Priest escape. I would have commended their tenacity and loyalty if they didn't work for the Temple. They have seen thousands of their comrades die but are still willing to die for someone who doesn't care about them.
Giving them a quick death is the least I can do to show them my respect. Manipulating the Mana in the air, I cast a Lesser Dragon Spell. The rushing Paladins stop in their tracks and widen their eyes before crumbling to pieces. I have frozen their bodies in an instant. Their widened eyes were probably caused by their sudden stop; not the pain.
At this moment, Rexorem finished its meal. Rexorem began its meal as the sun began to set, so the blood covering the sky made it impossible to admire its beauty. With blood no longer looming above, the clear night sky is now in view. Contrary to the scene on the ground, the sky looks very lively. The night would have been perfect if the putrid smell of iron wasn't lingering in the air.
Blergh!
The Priest throws up, making me look down in curiosity. Panic has overtaken him as his last resort for getting away from the battlefield alive crumbled before him. I have seen it too many times; there are too many cowards in the Temple. I sigh lightly and glance at the sky before kicking the pathetic Priest.
His body flies like a bullet and hits the ground violently. I am sure he died the moment he received my kick, so I don't bother checking on him. However, arrogance and overconfidence are dangerous. Therefore, just to make sure, I stomp the ground to split it open and let it swallow the pathetic Priest.
Extending my left hand, Rexorem flies to me in an instant. From the eyes of the onlookers, Rexorem would have seemed to teleport into my hand due to its speed. Turning around to face the Warriors properly, I raise Rexorem into the air. Silence fills the air, but the excitement is growing more and more palpable. Soon enough, no one can hold it back anymore.
"Woo-ah!"
"Victory!"
"Long live our Lord!"
As the Warriors' resounding cheers fill the battlefield, I face the Kingdom that we managed to conquer. Well, technically, it's not conquered yet, but that is inevitable. Channeling my Mana to my feet, I bring myself to the front of the gate. The defensive earthen walls that Lunea created before the gate had crumbled, allowing me to see her staring down at her father.
I click my tongue inwardly as a light frown mars my face. I have become more understanding toward emotion, but I am still not good at handling emotional moments. How awkward it must feel to have the daughter you almost assassinated under mind control to aid a Demon in conquering your Kingdom—her home.
The two of them seem to be at a loss as they stare at each other silently. They only take their gaze away from each other when I am by their side. I meet their gaze calmly, but I feel like the responsibility to do something in this situation has suddenly been shifted to me. I can gladly accept that from Lunea, but the old man is just pissing me off.
"I have another battle to attend, so let's make it quick." In this situation, I conclude that being myself is the best course of action. With Rexorem on the nape of the kneeling defeated King, I declare, "Choose."
Lunea meets my gaze, allowing me to see the myriads of emotion they contain. For the first time, I find her doubting my action. A small smile creeps up my face which must be out of place given how intimidating I look. Lunea slowly looks away and bears a contemplative look. Her mind races miles a minute before reaching a conclusion five seconds later.
"What do you want…Father?" she asks the King.
Although I am not as surprised as Solas, we are both equally bewildered. Of course, unlike him, I don't show it on my face. I merely watch the interaction between the two with mild interest. Solas keeps opening and closing his mouth like a fish, unable to find the correct words to say. If I were him, my choice would have been obvious; but he has something standing in his way.
"…I don't think I will be able to live as a father who disappointed his daughter enough to make her walk the wrong way. I still love you, but we will never get along as I don't approve of whom you are associating yourself with."
His pride as an idealistic conservative doesn't allow him to save himself.
"I see. Then, I shall respect your decision," Lunea states firmly, shocking her father. Pointing the tip of her staff at her father's chest, she motions me to remove Rexorem from his nape. "Cresundia's Royal Familly shall end today, but worry not, Father, your bloodline will continue. I will not carry your will to exterminate the Demons, but I will stand on top of the world beside Layland…my soulmate."
Lunea's speech would have been domineeringly perfect if she didn't falter at the end. Her face remains stoic, but anyone keen enough will be able to see the blush decorating her cheeks.
"Be happy, then. My blessing shall forever accompany you, my daughter," Solas says with a smile as he straightens himself.
Lunea faintly bites her lower lips, trying her best to hold down the unbearable sorrow. No matter how badly Solas treated her when he was under Shanifa's mind control, the experience is still not enough to make her forget the memory of her father pampering her before that. She wants to start over, but Solas doesn't. As a good daughter, she merely follows her father's wish even if it saddens her for some time.
Hum!
The air trembles as the tip of Lunea's staff glows. Solas' face grows serene as he closes his eyes. Lunea opens her eyes wide as a beam of white light pierces her father's chest. Tears are streaming down her face, but she refuses to look away. Three seconds pass as if it were an eternity as I watch the plethora of emotions swirl in Lunea's eyes.
Solas drops to the ground with a 'thud' and my leg is immediately enveloped in a hug. Shrinking to my original size, I reciprocate the hug. Lunea trembles in my embrace as I caress her hair. Sadness fills her entire existence, but fortunately, I can sense something else—relief. The exceptionally long skirmish has finally ended.
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