Requiem Of A Failed Hero



"What do you mean?!! What nonsense is this?!!"

"I am sorry your majesty. No hero will heed our call. This strange occurrence is happening everywhere around the world." A man cladded in golden armor with a big physique replied to the crimson-haired man standing opposite him donned in a white royal suit.

The Emperor of the Pomei Empire, the older brother of Prince Andres clenched his fist tightly with his brows lowered and brimming with anger.

He tried to understand the point of view of the heroes association and how they had to deal with this crisis in other parts of the empire and more importantly outside but seeing his palace infested with monsters and with so few heroes to stop them was annoying to him.

If not for his brother only God knows what would have happened. Prince Andres was skillfully holding back the order of black humanoid monsters that surged out of the gates, and attacked them like barbarians– other minor animals such as goblins, and kobolds could also be seen jumping out of the gate but the trained soldiers were enough to deal with all these.

The Emperor tore off the thick red cloak on his shoulders.

"Kathan, get me, Tempest."

"Your majesty. We should move you to a safe location. Joining the battle is not a wise decision."

"Don't tell me what is and what is not a wise decision Kathan GET ME TEMPEST."

"Yes, your majesty."

The man hurried away while the Emperor himself from the balcony of his throne room looked down at the crowd of monsters that all the knights and empire soldiers were dealing with. They had little soldiers and knights to their aid because a majority of them were immediately deployed to the capital, to protect other people. But never did he think that the number of these gates would increase tremendously the moment the soldiers were sent off.

If he was to put it into words.

'...is there a man behind this. Did he wait for me to send the soldiers away before bringing more portals? Perhaps to kill me?'

The Emperor thought that far but shook his head. The idea of a man being behind such a magnanimous phenomenon is too vague. Therut is filled with several things but a man this powerful is bound to have been discovered very early.

His problem which even he doesn't know about was that– he was still thinking within the confines of the small world which he thinks is big enough.

Every inhabitant of Therut believes they are the only world to exist, and so a lot is still uncommon sense to them. What they wouldn't understand.

"Your majesty" The General came with a long flamberge on a large red pillow.

The Emperor immediately grabbed the golden hilt of the sword, as he lifted it, the crimson-wavy blade glinted under the sunlight.

"What about our guests?"

"Communication with them has been lost as it is, we don't know what is going on with them," Kathan replied.

"It looks like this is the end of the world. But we will survive this just live every other crisis. You continue to find a way to reach our esteemed guest, while you leave Andre and I and the other knights to take care of this disaster."

He said, flying off the balcony and causing a tremendous ground shake as he landed amidst the monsters.

"Brother!! You should not be here!"

"Don't tell me where I should and should not be Andre, focus!"

The Emperor said as he swiftly moved completely severing a goblin's head from its neck.

Prince Andres shook his head, he wished the guy would just take the protection but knowing him, he probably won't. He was after all the finest knight when their father was alive, at the age of 22 he was already a level S hero.

However, five years later he remains a level S hero of the throne archon because he had never really had time for advancement quests. But he was no slouch still.

The Emperor's sword went ablaze with fire just like his brother's, with each swing, he unleashed a furor of devastation, his presence became a source of inspiration for the valiant knights that were already getting tired since they had been fighting these monsters for the past five hours. The air crackled with anticipation as the monsters bore witness to the Emperor's wrath.

Around fifty knights, high esteemed bastion of courage including Andres rallied around their noble leader. Their weapons shimmered in the sunlight as their heart was filled with unyielding determination now that the Emperor was amidst them. They moved as one, a symphony of precision and might, their battle cries shaking the very ground.

As another wave of the monstrous horde closed in, the knights engaged with unwavering resolve. Their blades found their targets with deadly precision, severing limbs and spilling foul blood.

Goblins fell as autumn leaves before a gust of wind, their grotesque bodies crumbling beneath the might of the knights' onslaught.

Prince Andre danced amidst the chaos, his movements a mesmerizing blur. His Longsword cut through the air with the grace of a master dancer, leaving trails of fire in its wake. Each stroke was a testament to his unmatched skill and the righteous flames that burned within him. Monsters fell before him, consumed by the scorching yellow blaze of the justice archon.

But the tide of monsters seemed unending, their onslaught unforgiving. As lizardmen charged with primal fury, their hissing cries filled the air. The knights, their armor battered and their bodies weary, continued to fight on with unyielding determination. Their swords clashed with fangs and claws, their shields withstanding the onslaught.

Just when the knight's morale seemed like it was all going down, the Emperor himself amidst the blazing afternoon began to unleash his skills; fighting like the god of fire himself.

His flamberge blazed brighter than the sun, reducing the monsters to ash with each swing. The battlefield became a canvas of destruction, the monsters' twisted forms consumed by the cleansing flames.

The fire was a unique trait to the royal family of Pomei, it did not matter what archon chooses them, their dust is bound to take on the form of a yellow flame although the specifics of the abilities of their flames always end up very distinct.

Even with the Emperor's godly displays, the knights continued to suffer devastating losses. A once exquisite palace known to be one of the wonders of Therut was now left in the arms of a demeaning ruin.

The earth trembled beneath the weight of the battle, each fallen comrade was a somber reminder of the cost of their noble cause.

Yet, they pressed on, their spirits unbroken, their resolve unyielding. For they fought not only for themselves but for the Empire— to protect their great ruler.

"How amusing," the voice sneered. "That you honorable humans would lay down your lives for such frivolous pursuits. These vague notions of honor and righteousness, how they amuse me. What pitiful creatures you are, clinging to your futility and lies."

He towered over the battlefield in a black cloak, with a horn protruding out of his head. His presence was commanding and radiating malevolence. A twisted grin played upon his lips as he looked down at the Emperor.

"Shall we end this?"