Devouring Monarch: Rebirth of the Profane Phoenix

While Asura enjoyed a pleasant meal with Verana and Vela, the story on Silvara's other side couldn't be any different. Men and women ate dried bread, so rough the thin soup barely softened the crispy texture.

Garrett and Glade went with their men to the wasteland formerly known as Lyndwrym, now home to thousands of corpses, with only hundreds of soldiers remaining. They lost all hope and passion, forced to store the remaining civilians in the citadel's basement.

"Mother, will we survive the night?" A young girl asked, her hands carrying a ruined and dirty doll while her mother shivered, covered in bandages.

"We... we will be fine, my love. The knights will protect us."

"But Mommy... the knights are all sleeping in the fields."

The room below the citadel glowed with light because of the abundance of torches, and several wounded knights stayed down here as a last line of defence.

From the many who lived in the beautiful fort city for years, now less than a hundred remained. So much death over the past month caused their faces to become pale grey and filled with loss.

"Lord Garret will protect us, our Young Lord Asura will never abandon us, help will come." A woman holding a bundle in her arms declared that the baby in the woman's arms had a strangely white complexion, one that usually caused alarm in others, yet the knights protecting them smiled and nodded in agreement.

Her husband perished in battle, and then her baby was born in eternal sleep, so her mind collapsed.

"Yes, Mother will be fine, right?"

The young girl clutched her doll and tried to hold her tears. This young girl has watched so many die in the previous battles that she could only act bravely to comfort her mother and reassure her knights.

"Of course... Ahhh!?"

Bang

A colossal tremor shook the citadel, causing ash, dirt and dust to pour down from the cracks above.

The monsters were attacking the citadel for the last time, with an army of several ogres and dozens of deadly monsters leading the thousands of orcs and goblins to decimate the defences of the east beyond what Garrett could endure.

All because the Cult of the Fallen Sun intervened and used their foul magic to summon a divine smite to destroy the walls of Lyndwrym, forcing open combat.

"Keep calm, everyone. They won't get here! Hold out a little longer!" The last remaining Lyndwyrm warriors cried out in agony to suppress their emotions as they slowly lost their will to fight and die for the families and friends they vowed to protect.

All looked grim for the Phoenix Glade.

****

"Glade, you cannot fight anymore. With an arm lost and your core shattered, I order you to retreat to the Phoenix Glade! Think, why did your father's name you after our homeland? You are its guardian, you cannot fall here." Garrett's shout bellowed as the enormous doors of the fortress trembled.

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Now, a black bandage and patch covered his left eye. Yet he held his half-broken sword, still giant and filled with a heroic aura.

"If you have any love for me, brother, then you shall protect the only gifts we value: our wives and children. Please, Glade! Take the citizens and escape through the underground path."

The one-armed general thought deeply, his expression turning grim.

His remaining arm clutched his blade, which would soon break, as he looked towards the opening gate, with monstrous faces and a grim future approaching. He felt tears churning in his eyes while trembling at the thought of leaving his brother to face this impossible battle alone.

"Garrett, my friend, my brother."

"Glade!"

"I love you and will do as you have asked." Glade kneeled before his brother, a man he respected more than anything in this world and a brother to him, a man who fought side by side. "But if you can... if it's possible... please live."

Glade's body seemed to become smaller, a weak old man's plea for his friend to live. He watched the back of Garrett, the man he always admired and followed. Well aware that this may be the last moment they might meet.

"Hahaha! You never change."

Garrett lifted his sword from the ground and swung at the approaching horde of beasts that had once been human.

He faced the ever-growing pile of dead orcs and goblins that caused Glade's heart to shiver.

A group of fifty knights all stood behind Garrett. Even in this moment of despair, they held their weapons and stood tall.

"Take care, my lord..." Glade muttered while running through the emergency passage while his friend's back faded from his sight.

Garrett stood in silence, his lips curling into a bitter smile. "Goodbye, my dearest friend. Alas, I could save you. That is all I needed."

"Men! To arms!"

He sent the young knights who would support his son away the morning before; they should have reached the next city and begun preparations to halt this advance by now. Thus, Garret would buy them an extra day, hour, or even a minute!

"I am the lord of the glade, sworn to protect the last resting grounds of our great ancestor, the Phoenix! You interlopers, monsters and beasts shall never disturb her beautiful dreams! For the divine bird forever sleeps in this land!"

His shout echoed throughout the vast courtyard and the chambers of the underground passage. The fleeing survivors looked at this elderly man in awe.

Garrett's silvery-red hair seemed to shimmer with an ancient force in their eyes.

"For the Glade!"

"For our Lord!"

"To the future!"

Garret's body burned with an illuminating flame, the tethers forming tiny embers that enveloped the fifty knights fighting alongside him; there was no vision of glory or victory, only destruction.

They would destroy as many monsters as possible before their bodies fell apart.

Each member of the group slammed their swords onto their shields, a droning sound filling the passageway with an intense air that resonated with Garrett's declaration.

"We fight on the side of the divine Phoenix!"

The assembled knights roared like lions; their courageous voices echoed down the corridor.

The mass of monsters flooded over the citadel's walls and gates as the last battle between the old and new dawn began.

Giant trolls broke the thick wooden doors into broken planks with extreme force as their massive clubs hammered the stone walls, causing the citadels' interior to crumble. The countless orcs and goblins howled like caged beasts.

Their many numbers rushed forth from the trenches in an agitated state, heading towards the chamber in a crazed rage, seeking to devour the living.

"Here they come! Fight, show no weakness! Charge my knights!"

Garrett roared in a fit of madness as his body jumped and charged into the sea of enemies and certain death. His half-broken sword glowed with a golden flame.

The flurry of sparks against his blade did not cause a hint of hesitation. The air became filled with a horrific stench, filled with blood and death as the beasts crushed each other for an extra mouthful of flesh and a better position.

"Ahhhhhhh!"

The battle erupted into an intense frenzy, and a brawl ensued.

Sword met flesh, teeth crushed metal. Blood splattered, and corpses piled on top of each other while the line of defenders could not stop their advance. Yet, Garrett did not lose a single step. The aged lord stood at the front, pushing back the endless horde while his body burned with a majestic flame.

Blood, flesh and tears shed as his body resisted blow after blow, yet his sword never stopped.

"My Lord!!"

A tiny voice screamed out from below his feet, making Garrett glance down. His sword pierced the neck of an orc. A knight blocked the sharp blade of a human wearing the Cult's armour, and a wicked grin as the man twisted the blade caused the knight to scream in agony.

"You ungrateful bastard, I will send you to hell!"

Garrett grabbed the knight's arm and plunged his sword deep into the cultist's heart with a stab. A shadow flickered behind him, and he noticed the slash that should have hit him, which was being stopped by a young man who should have left with the future generals. With a painted heart, Garrett's flame enveloped the boy and began healing his wounds.

"Carry him to safety. We must not lose our brave youth!"

Woosh!

A sudden whistle on the wind sounded, and nobody prepared for a sudden volley of arrows, only Garrett's dynamic vision catching these deadly arrows tipped with armour-piercing heads.

"UGGH!!"

His body moved before his mind or heart to protect his brothers in arms, the people who served him. In the end, he wished to return that favour. Dozens of arrows penetrated his armour, and blood gushed from his body like a fountain.

"Ah, I have returned, my sweet lady Ophelia. I am sorry, Asura, that I couldn't protect you, my son..."

Garrett felt his mind become loose; slapping his face, he turned desperately, slicing and parrying the orc's attacks, his heart racing, trying to compete with the loss of strength because of blood loss, his knights falling one by one.

"Never shall the knights of the glade surrender!"

His sword splintered, clashing with an armoured orc, tearing its throat while the other shards, as if guided by magic, shot through the battlefield covered in flames, protecting his comrades.

Dozens of orcs dropped from his last desperate attack. He felt the weight of his limbs, and then their powerlessness drove him to struggle to move.

"To think my son is going to marry not only a member of the Royal knights, the princes... but even... the sword saintess... Hahaha! As a father, I can die proud!"

"Ophelia... forgive me, but this is all I can do for Asura to give him the drive to seize the future. He needs to awaken his desire, the desire to rule, to become a monarch and restore the rightful bloodline to the throne!"

'Freyja, your son will finally achieve your long-desired goal. No matter how he was born, he is my son.'

It seemed the end was coming as he faced the colossal mace of an ogre slamming down towards him.

"LORD!"

"LORD GARRETT!!"

Suddenly, a silver flash of light engulfed the world.

It was as if the moon had fallen and landed on the Lyndwrym plains, causing the entire citadel to vaporise.

***

Meanwhile, Asura stood in the mansion garden training with his three weapons, sweat oozing down his body as he felt a sudden pain in his chest.

He turned to the east, and a single tear dripped from his right eye. It had momentarily entered the manifestation state while he was gazing towards Lyndwrym.

A voice suddenly danced upon the wind, causing him to tremble.

"I am sorry, Asura, that I couldn't protect you, my son..."

"Father?"