Page 22 of A Simple Truth

‘Rebel groups found in Asford.The whole town to be burned for tolerating and accepting traitors among themselves.’

False decrees written with the blood I was about to spill; that I commanded my soldiers to spill.

I guess there was some truth to that,I had thought. I was a rebel, after all, and I was in this town now, as my soldiers and I crept closer, setting up the cruel ambush.

Orest marched silently next to me, his sword drawn. Lachlan and his battalion were on the other side, his own sword and ax now out too.

We didn’t need the cover of darkness; the town wouldn’t survive, even if they saw us coming miles ahead. Soon, the screams would begin, yet they wouldn’t even have a chance to beg for their lives.

No survivors.

Not children, not women.

No survivors.

I took a slow breath, letting the crisp, cold air of the night fill my lungs as I descended deeper into the Numb, until there was none of the guilt left; only ice-cold, familiar numbness.

“Look at us, back in the field like we are fourteen again.” Lachlan sneered, pulling down his visor off his helm until it covered his annoying face. “Want to bet heads again?” he asked, not hiding the thrill in his voice.

“No fire?” I asked, unsheathing both of my swords from my back as the couple of town guards went down and the city gates slowly opened.

“You know the rules.” Lachlan grinned wide.

“Deal,” I replied, twisting my swords in a circular motion.

“Loser buys all soldiers top tier wine.” He laughed. I fully succumbed to the Numb as I smirked and added,

“Let’s hope you have enough coppers, Lachlan.”

And then the bloodshed began.

The wooden houses were surrounded by roaring flames as Destroyers pillaged the wailing town. The half-awoken men rushed out of their houses to defend the last few minutes of their lives; of their families’ lives.

“One down, Bellator,” Lachlan shouted a few steps ahead of me as he held up a severed head by its hair in the air, blood drizzling out of the torn arteries and onto his dark armor.

I snarled at him, letting my last bit of lingering feelings succumb to the Numb, until I was nothing but a speck of dust, falling into the abyss.

Slash, duck, slash. One down. Another sway of my arms and another head on the ground, another clang of the metal; more blood. Minutes went by as the severed heads piled up.

One after another. I didn’t care to spare even a second of breath as I beheaded another with a simple swing of my sword. Their faces blended all into one. Their screams were nothing but an insignificant noise.

Where the ground was once-hardened with harsh weather, it now felt mushy, drenched with warm, innocent blood. Nothing but ash and smoke covered the previously clear night sky.

The only sign of time passing was the unceasing ache in my shoulder—though the shard of Basalt Glass was gone, its magic still lingered, causing the wound to heal slower.

“Slowing down, Bellator? Already?” Lachlan passed me, dragging another dead body behind him. “Number 82, by the way.” He gave me a smug, arrogant smirk, as he dramatically chopped off the head from a body with one move of his large ax and then, as if it were a ball, he kicked it, sending it rolling across the messy ground.

“Orest, where am I at?” I asked, not even needing to look back to know that my Second was like a shadow, only a step behind me.

“112,” Orest answered, content; simultaneously stabbing the person running by.

“Perhaps, you should focus on killing instead of counting,” I shot back at Lachlan as I continued moving, looking for another soul to send to the gods.

“Fuck!” Lachlan angrily shouted, taking off.

I moved further through the town, leaving a trail of headless bodies in my wake. The long, sharp blades of my swords now matched the color of the mahogany rubies in their hilts. I walked until I reached the flaming town hall. The previously tall andpristine building was now swallowed by infernos. I walked inside past the burning doors, letting the acidic smoke burn my lungs.

A young woman was crouched down and hiding behind a lectern made of stone, the smoke deep within her, clouding her eyes. I should’ve hesitated, should’ve contemplated; yet, there was nothing in my mind but the clarity of emptiness as I closed my eyes.

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