The Noble Lady of Lust
Chapter 194: An Old memory (2)

Chapter 194: An Old memory (2)

*****

[War is a dark mirror of humanity.]

It reflects both our deepest fears and our most heroic aspirations. It shows us what we are capable of, both in destruction and sacrifice.

**

There she lay on the ground, her breathing ragged as the cold began to devour her body. The rain poured down, The blood from her wounded side mingled with the mud, forming dark puddles that reflected a sky stained by fire and smoke.

Boom!!

All around, the chaos of battle was still raging: bursts of magic pierced the air, illuminating the faces of men and women still fighting, their screams barely audible over the roar of chaos.

Somewhere nearby, an enchanted arrow exploded against a magic shield, bathing the scene in flashes of purple light. Fragments of stone and metal flew out, but Seraphina did not move.

What was the point? She had spent who knows how long facing these same scenes, whether they were wars or simple battles.What difference did it make? For her, every combat was the same: risking everything for a cause she could never understand, dragged into it all against her will and ending uselessly.

War, they said, was a great thing, a struggle for ideals that transcended individuals. Battles, on the other hand, were small, just a piece on the board of something bigger.

But how could that distinction matter when you were just one more, one body among hundreds, a fleeting spark in an endless fire? The war, the battle... both were the same for those who died in them. Both were hells that claimed lives without question.

Fwhoooosh!

Another flash of magic illuminated the field, and Seraphina saw the figures of the fallen around her: motionless bodies, faces frozen in expressions of fear, pain or resignation.

She wondered if in those last moments they too had reflected on the senselessness of it all, if the people of this world even stopped to think about it.

Perhaps they had also realized too late that their lives had been bargaining chips in a cruel game in which they would gain nothing, being pawns of the superior beings who used and discarded them as they pleased.

What was it again?...., territory, beliefs, artifacts, orders from the gods, simple hatred? seraphina did not even know what this war was about, but she hoped it would be the last.

The wind blew, blowing away the smoke and exposing a grayish sky that seemed to look at her with indifference. She felt her body sink deeper into the mud, as if the earth was ready to claim her.

The spark that had kept her on her feet so many times before had long since gone out. There was no strength, no will, no purpose left; she was just an empty puppet following orders.

Everything that had been consumed by the endless cycles of struggle - dreams, hope, friends, family, loved ones - was slowly being destroyed by this world.

The noise of battle kept receding, or perhaps it was she who was receding from it. She closed her eyes, not because the pain was gone, but because she no longer cared. There, amid the mud and blood, she surrendered to the darkness, an impulse she had longed for, but was not even allowed.

He doesn’t even remember what he was fighting for. The faces that were familiar to her slowly faded in her memory; not because she wanted to forget them, but because it was the only way to stay sane in this world, which at first she thought would be a paradise after death.

At least she could finally be done with all this crap and, if she was lucky, be reunited with those she couldn’t protect.

"Haaah~.... kill me."

Finally, those were the words that came out of her. The recipient was an extraordinarily handsome man, standing approximately 6’3" tall, holding a sword in his hand and wearing white armor with intricate golden details.

These matched perfectly with his platinum hair and blue eyes. Seraphina looked at him and remembered how people said that was the color of his eyes and hair before he was reborn.

Memories inherited from the one who was supposed to own the body also backed it up. Seraphina thought it was a pretty color; too bad that, by the time she realized it, her hair and eyes had changed to an annoying golden that did nothing but remind her of her cursed decision, made in ignorance, to choose the more powerful ability.

Above that silver hair rose a pair of horns that appeared to be made of metal, with what looked like runes written on it, giving his aura a mystical touch.

The man also had a dull look on his face as he watched Seraphina about to die.

"Poor soul bound to the gods. This is an inevitable fate. That we are enemies changes nothing, but you will not die today."

Seraphina could barely hear what the man was saying. She begged him to end this quickly, but she knew it was still a matter of time. However, as she barely heard the end, her soul broke even more.

For her, this was a cruel punishment: in her darkest nightmares she had imagined that the person who, moments ago, had been her opponent to the death, would forgive her and not put her out of her suffering.

"It’s unfair that only you should be freed from these damned chains. Heh... it’s not funny. I heard that our origin is the same, that we got here maybe it’s because of the damn fate. So if I kill you here, would it fulfill the intended destiny, or would I be against it?"

"....."

"No one, maybe not even the gods, know exactly. For them it’s a gamble, it’s all a damn game, but for us it’s reality."

The man didn’t even know why he was speaking. Seraphina didn’t seem to be listening; she just lay there, motionless, shedding tears. Maybe because she understood that today she would not die.

But somehow, he felt a connection to this woman, beyond what he had said before. He felt that, if it was her, he could achieve what he also always wished for, maybe that’s why he forgave her.

"In war, the silence of the fallen echoes louder than the cries of victory. Behold our victory, but at what cost?"

Finally, out of nowhere, a strong and gentle voice of a woman penetrated and invaded the battlefield. It seemed that the main combatants had decided who won, the winner had announced his victory, honest or not the mercy, in the voice, neither the man nor Seraphina cared.

The war was over and they weren’t even needed, their fighting didn’t even have an impact on the big picture, they were just soldiers. Although, in their place of origin, they were apex beings, here they were just another among many who fought.

The being the silver-haired man was following had declared victory. That made him feel neither sad nor happy. To him, it was simply another battle he had survived, not won.

He looked at Seraphina again and picked her up. She would now be his spoils of war. Seraphina would become part of his faction, whether he wanted her to or not.

In this battle, the gods did not even have a particular side; they were neutral. Still, they had to die. All they cared about was who survived and rose to serve them better.

It was like putting poisonous insects in a vase and waiting to see if his was the one that survived, regardless of whether he killed more comrades than enemies. The results were everything to them.

"kill me .... just kill me... please."

those whispered words that not even the man could hear came from saraphina who was now taken by the man, as spoils of war, she only wished to die, but this shitty world would not even allow her to do that.

...

..

.

Relentless battles, endless wars, ideals in constant clash, razor-sharp betrayals and alliances born of desperation, could be seen everywhere.

This world was driven forward by a relentless cycle. The age of the gods was reaching its climax, overflowing with power and change. Those who were once partners are now sworn enemies. Out of necessity unity was born.

the weak died or became strong. The strong, reached their limits and were devoured, by the weak who wanted to climb to the pinnacle.

Over time even the meaning of power became diffuse and in the end, survival was the most important factor, the only thing that remained constant was change.

Thus, the cycle continued, relentlessly.

...

..

.

Splat!

"This was the one from that time, wasn’t it?"

Seraphina said, tossing what looked like the head of a woman with a horrified face, in front of the man, who now looked older than last time. Her horns now looked platinum and her hair also became more metallic.

The man looked on blankly, for a moment. In fact, the woman was the one who proclaimed victory, the first time he and Seraphina met. If not for her mention, he would have forgotten that, and remembering it brought to him many things, but he had no time to think more.

That head, it was a simple greeting, of what was about to begin. He knew that today would be different. Now they were the two of them at the center of events, they would decide the outcome of this war.

Bang!!.

The battle began, without further words. Again, on another battlefield, their two fates converged once more. It seemed that fate would not be satisfied until one devoured the other.

They had already had several confrontations and both had come close to killing the other on more than one occasion, and finally reached this point.

Now, the two stood face to face, different from years ago, when they first fought in what may finally be their last.

...

"Ughh...haaa...I lost"

On a deserted battlefield, with no one in the immediate vicinity. Or, rather, if anyone was, they would have long since died.

The battle was over. There was destruction everywhere; weapons with no bearer stuck everywhere. It was like a tomb of swords. In this silent place, only the two of them were there. The outcome was already decided.

Perhaps, because of this, they made the last exchanged words.

"Why didn’t you do it then, why didn’t you kill me?"

It was a question she always wanted to ask since they met, over the years she knew that the man was not so merciful , as to do so, she wanted to know the origin of all his hatred and rancor, at least in the end.

"Heh, isn’t fate funny? Who knew that at that moment things would end up like this. It’s not funny... you weren’t even a match for me, and now we’re here. Oh, fate, how cruel you can be..."

"You always liked to talk like that. If you didn’t want things to end like this, you should have killed me. You knew. You knew I wanted to die. All you had to do was use that damn sword and run it through my throat."

The man sighed, beginning to lose some of his composure.

"Hey, tell me the truth... The fact that you have that hair and eye color means you got free, right? That guy had a method after all, instead of reproaching me. Shouldn’t you be thanking me for not killing you?"

"Thank you? Who asked you to save me? You should have killed me! All you did was drag me into a new hell. Free... that word doesn’t exist in this world, not as long as those bastards sitting on their divine throne still exist."

"You’re damn right." The man’s voice now sounded more tired, and his wavering gaze betrayed his fatigue. "In that moment I saw in your eyes what you were: like me. I only let you live because I knew you would also suffer more than if I killed you outright."

"....."

The man let out a faint wry laugh, as if his words were becoming increasingly bitter to him.

"You know. At the time I wanted this to happen, you know? This exact situation. But as you say, if we don’t kill those bastards, we’ll never be free. I even doubt that in death we will be. You know..., finally, in this hell, I had found someone who gave me strength. I planned to start a family. Yes, maybe I would repeat the cycle, but at least I felt that, for the first time, I was in control."

"Do you regret it?"

"Yes, I fucking regret it." Her voice wavered, and her gaze grew more somber. "Pitifully, you’re the victor this time. But your eyes are as empty as they were back then. And I, who finally found a spark, lost it. How unfair this world is, don’t you think?" A deep sigh interrupted him, as if those words hurt. "If I asked you to forgive me, would you?"

"No, and it’s too late for that now."

"Hehe, I know that." Her laugh was weak, almost sad. "I just wanted to see your face, of surprise or something, but you’re still as empty as ever. What are you going to do now? Did you devour that lecherous jerk, blaze your trail and make it this far? What is it that still drives you? Was it your revenge on me or is it something else?"

"That’s none of your business..."

"Haaa, I guess it is. It’s not like we were ever friends..." The man’s voice trembled, his words coming out choppy. "Haa... I’m... I’m running out of time..." His breaths were ragged, as if he was having trouble speaking. "So... ends this my little episode in... in the epic of the rivers of history.... Will this be the last age of the gods, or just... just one more? Now... I won’t know.... Haa..."

"This will be the last, I assure you."

"...It’s like this... cough,.... If so...I’m glad" He said while coughing up blood. His breathing was becoming more and more ragged, as if every word was a struggle.

"O... one more thing... wh... when you get there... at least... forgive... her... That’s... the only thing... I’ll... I’ll ask of you..." Her voice was weakening, the words beginning to fade. "In... in return... I’ll w... wish that what... may be... what you want to... accomplish... be... fulfilled..."

"...."

It was a meaningless exchange, but Seraphina said nothing in repust, Seraphina, whose hair and eyes returned to what were supposed to be their original colors, watched as the man finally began to lose the sparkle in his eyes.

From the beginning of their conversation, Seraphina had her hand through his chest. The only reason their conversation lasted so long was because the man was of a special breed of demon that did not die easily.

Still, in the hands of the current Seraphina, this wound, which would normally be nothing to him, was more deadly than anything. She watched as the man finally lost his life completely.

although Seraphina did not like him and wanted to kill him from the bottom of her heart for prolonging her life and sending her to a new hell, in a sense she understood him.

Chained to the gods, a puppet who had finally found his place and was cruelly sacrificed because he lost his usefulness. This scene kept replaying over and over again.

Yes, she wanted to see him suffer, but above all, she wanted to fuck the gods. So, in the last instant of what was left of the man’s life, she did what he had always wanted: she gave him his longed-for freedom.

Crraack!.

As if squeezing something and destroying it, the hand that was still nailed to the man’s chest made a crunching sound.

And as the man said, this little story between the two of them had ended, something unimportant in the big picture of things, with his death nothing had changed and everything would continue on its course.

..

"Haah... I’m so tired... I just want to rest."

When it was all over, Seraphina let out a sigh, not of relief, but of exhaustion. She was exhausted both physically and mentally.

Another war had ended, but that wasn’t all. She knew it wouldn’t be the last; this was just one more.

Her simple desire to rest would not be fulfilled. War only begets more war. Even so, she could end it all now if she wanted to, but she...

"I swear I’ll kill you all, bastards."

This wouldn’t end so easily; she wouldn’t let them off so easily.

...

[War is hell on earth, and those who survive it live as ghosts.]

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