The King and The Duke

  While I was at the campsite, a meeting between King Alexander and good old Albert was being discussed about the movement of the Demons.

  “Let’s run through this one more time.

  We have one hundred and fifty samurai

  Fifteen thousand foot soldiers.

  Of the fifteen thousand in our main force, only three thousand are trained.

  Fifty mages.

  In all, we have fifteen thousand one hundred fifty soldiers, of whom twelve thousand are untrained,” Albert finished.

  “You have to miss the old days, don’t you, Albert?” King Alexander said,

  “Yeah.”

  Alexander kept a strong grip on his saber.

  And Albert stood hunched over a desk, looking over a map and different places.

  The two shoot off glances only when needed.

  After the debut in the capital, the two friends have been rather edgy with one another. The talk of The Devil ran rampant across the kingdom.

  The poor believe he was a hero fighting the corrupt.

  The rich believed he was a madman, killing their kind off like a rabid dog.

  Slaves believed him to be a martyr of their god, ironic.

  Slavers wanted his neck to be wearing a rope.

  The King found the Devil to be a chaotic force for good.

  Sir Albert wanted the Devil to burn the country down and make it anew.

  And well, The Devil itself… I’ll never tell.

  “We'll be swimming with the damned by the end of this. The demon’s forces numbered a hundred thousand strong and being led by their King directly. You couldn’t get any more troops from parliament?” retorted Sir Albert.

  “Those old bastards don’t believe the Demons are a threat, not after the second Demon-Human war. After those massacres, I wouldn’t believe either,” King Alexander replied.

  A table ruled over the room with (the said map I brought mere minutes ago) laid across the table. Miniatures were spread across, creating different strategic plans, and small notes were drawn throughout, pointing out the pros and cons of each plan. Sir Albert was pacing back and forth, while King Alexander sat with his hands folded together in front of his mouth, pondering what to do. The air was as thick as cement. Uncertainty ran throughout the room; the only thing they knew for certain was how fucked they were.

  “We are not going to be able to hold this position for long. Our main objective will have to be revealing the true threat of the demons, the evacuation of the town, and, of course, suffering the least amount of casualties in the battle is also a main concern.”

  A group of soldiers opened the doors with wooden crates.

  “Sirs, we were able to create the weapons from the models Sir Ablet had given us.”

  There were crates lying on the floor filled with rifles and revolvers. The rifles were modeled after muskets. The revolvers were based on the Colt Army Model 1860, the pistol that fought a war between brothers. Odd time jump between the two.

  “I haven’t been able to see one of these gun things you've been talking about, Albert,” King Alexander said.

  “These guns will help gain a greater range advantage, but will it be enough. ”

  “Well, Albert, right now our best course of action is to take a break and regroup.”

  “Sure, Alexander, I’ll ready the troops, so when war begins, we’ll be ready.”

  Albert left the room, leaving the King behind.

  Alexander thought to himself one thing.

  May the gods have mercy on us all.

  The Three Heroes Preparing for battle

  While Sir Albert and King Alexander discussed the battle plans. Somewhere else in the fortress, there was a different discussion being laid out between the three heroes.

  (Translations once more done by your truly.)

  “「これは本物だ、君たち二人。私たちは戦争の現実を目の当たりにすることになる。覚悟を決めろ」とケンジは言った。”

  (“This is the real thing, you two; we will witness the reality of war. Ready yourselves,” said Kenji.)

  "「そんなに心配しなくていいよ、ケンジ。僕たちは以前も戦いを経験してきたし、今回も同じことさ」とアキラは答えた。"

  (“Don’t worry yourself so much, Kenji. We fought in battles before; this one won’t be any different,” Akira responded.)

  "「そうだ、ケンジ、俺たちは国境での小競り合いで戦ったし、いわゆる“悪魔”との戦いも忘れるなよ」とアキコアが付け加えた。"

  (“Yeah, Kenji, we fought in those skirmishes on the border, and don’t forget about that battle against the so-called “Devil”,” Akikoa added.)

  The name felt like bringing Lucifer Morningstar himself out of the pits of hell. To the man who calls himself Kenji. It's funny what names can do to a man; they can either freeze a man in his steps or fill him with great pride. Kenji recalled that stormy night when the man called the Devil shot him. The bullet was six inches from his heart, going straight through but hitting nothing important. The bullet left only a black mark, reminding Kenji to never be frail again.

  “「死の時は命じても待ってはくれない。死は正面からも来ない。常に後ろから迫ってくるのだ。」—吉田兼好”

  ("The hour of death waits for no order. Death does not even come from the front. It is ever pressing on from behind,"—Yoshida Kenkō. )

  Kenji wondered if that was his hour of death and whether or not death should have taken him there.

  Kenji shook his head and told the two, "俺たちは数で6対1で劣ってる。だからお前たち二人は心を強く持て。"

  (“We’re outnumbered six to one, so you two better steel yourselves.”)

  "「はい、はい、キャプテン」と二人は同時に言った。"

  (“Aye, aye, Captain,” the two said at once.)

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  "キリスト" とケンジはつぶやいた。

  (“Christ,” Kenji muttered.)

  The drums of war started to ring throughout the land.

  戦争がここにある。

  The Devil’s War

  A few hours later, back at the camp, I was walking around thinking.

  Celeste was training with her magic. The fireball that had once been the size of a fist was now the size of an enlarged balloon.

  Miyamoto was practicing his swordplay. I sometimes forget that Miyamoto is a swordsman, one of the best I know. I mean, he's the only one I know, but hey, he's still great.

  The Kid was still sleeping, and so was the dog. I wonder what she thinks about.

  I was thinking about the German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche. Thinking about a quote from his book Beyond Good and Evil.

  “He who fights with monsters might take care lest he thereby become a monster. And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you.”

  I may have become a monster, but sometimes it takes a monster to kill monsters. Such thoughts have been drawn to my mind many times before.

  “For who would bear the whips and scorns of time?” —Hamlet Act III, Part I

  Hamlet is one of my favorite Shakespeare classics. The story of a man’s obsession with vengeance that kills him in the end.

  An image of a white whale and a peg-leg man crossed my mind

  I took a swig from my flask.

  Boom!

  “V, did you hear that!?” Miyamoto yelled.

  “Yeah!”

  “What do you think it was?”

  “What man does best at.

  Destroying itself.

  Is your bike around here?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay, drive me to my bike. Then drive back here, pick up the kids, and meet me at the town.”

  The two of us got on the bike and started to ride.

  “What was that, V?” Miyamoto asked.

  “It sounds like an explosion went off.”

  “Then shouldn’t we leave the kids here?”

  “I wouldn’t bring the kids to the disturbance under normal conditions, but I’m not sure what the hell is happening and don’t want to be disjointed for long.”

  “Then why didn’t we bring the kids with us on the ride to your bike?”

  “Have you ever fit four people and a dog on this bike? It would be a mess.”

  The ride back to my bike was lit only by the inferno coming from the town and the light in front of the bike.

  The drums of war echoed throughout the land, reaching our campsite, which was an hour away from Ikigai.

  Leaving Violet and Celeste behind bothers me, but those kids weren’t ready for an armed conflict.

  War is only filled by that of children.

  Well, Miyamoto and I had it back to my bike.

  “Ok, go back, grab the kids, and we'll meet back up at Ikigai and get ready for a bloody war, my friend.”

  The smoke choked me like a drunk with anger issues.

  Cannons were going off like trumpets in a brass band.

  And a song start to dance within my mind

  “Welcome to your life.”

  Miyamoto and the kids arrived at the town.

  “There's no turning back.”

  The casting of the spell, like fireballs mixed with the snapping of guns, filled the air. And death was hunting the battle like the damned in hell.

  “Even while we sleep.”

  On the north wall, men were standing strong, not breaking at their comrades' deaths.

  “Don’t fire until you see the whites of their eyes!” yelled a commander.

  The white smoke that comes from the end of a musket filled the land. Clouding over and blending good sums of both armies.

  The little metal balls that the muskets fired ripped through the ranks of foot soldiers that were part of the so-called demon army.

  Pieces of flashes flew across the battlefield.

  Bodies piled up.

  Officers were beating demons with bare hands and butts of their revolvers.

  One officer stuck a revolver in the mouth of a demon and blew its head off.

  The “demons” replied to man’s attacks with blades and magic.

  “We will find you.”

  “King Alexander, we must leave this place.”

  “Acting on your best behavior.”

  “I will not leave my men to save my damn tail. What is life without honor!”

  “Turn your back on Mother Nature.”

  “It’s better to maintain our lives than our damn honor.

  The only thing that calls us here is the song of death, Alexander.”

  “...

  You're right, Albert, this is not the war but just a mere battle.

  Let’s leave before my mind turns back.”

  Bodies of friends and enemies alike litter the ground. The number of bodies was forcing men to stand on top of friends' and foes' corpses to kill or be killed.

  “ケンジ、君の言う通りだったかもしれない；私たちは押し寄せられている！”

  (“Kenji, you may have been right; we are being overrun!” Akira yelled to Kenji.)

  Blood was sticking to Akira like clothing.

  The boy was slowly cracking from the horror; the only thing he could do was stab, kill, repeat.

  Kenji looked over to Akira, the poor bastard, and said, “踏みとどまれ！奴らに一寸たりとも譲るな！” (“Hold your ground; we can give them a damn inch!”)

  Kenji wasn’t faring any better. He was able to fight with a soldier's efficiency, but his greatest enemy was himself. Flashes of the night when the Devil and Kenji fought occurred, every time Kenji cut down an enemy.

  The downpour.

  The lightning.

  And the blood.

  Oh, the streams of blood—judgment day could have been happening in the background; neither man could have noticed.

  “ケンジ、アキラの言う通りだ！

  あいつらは多すぎる！”

  (“Kenji, Akira is right.

  There are too many of them!” Akikoa yelled.)

  Akikoa's arms were growing weak by the second; she was never made for the killing field, but the only thing she could do was swing the hunk of iron and cast icicles to hold the “beasts” off.

  The Punic Wars, the Hundred Years' War, the Reconquista, the Three Kingdoms, and so many more flashed throughout my mind.

  “V, what the fuck is happening!” Celeste yelled, snapping me out of my daze.

  The battlefield was a clusterfuck of death, yells, and smoke.

  Akuma stood on the pile of corpses, drenched in blood.

  King Alexander and Sir Albert look across the inferno.

  Kenji, Akikoa, and Akira stood back-to-back, fighting against the demons.

  And I stood in front of Miyamoto, Celeste, and The Kid.

  “Everybody wants to rule the world.” – Tear’s For Fears

  Bloody Tears for Fears firing around my goddamn skull.

  As the raging fire roared through the city in the background, I yelled this word: “This is it, boys; this is war! Celeste, you know how to ride that bike.”

  “Yeah, why?” Celeste responded.

  “I need you to get the Kid to the next town we meet after we’re finished.”

  “I can fight, V!”

  “I know! But someone needs to make sure there’s a tomorrow.”

  I am selfish; I know it. Celeste was almost an adult, and I was treating her like a damn five-year-old. Everyone eventually sees the evil of life, but just allow me, for now, to give her a bit more time.

  Celeste had an anxious look written across her face.

  “Fine, but don’t go getting yourself killed!”

  I could see that Celeste wanted to say more, do more, but she started the engine. She was always one of the most mature ones in this group.

  “Don’t worry—I won’t die, even if they kill me.”

  The motorcycle rode away with the Kid mouthing, Stay safe.

  The roaring of the engine rang through the night.

  Miyamoto and I turned to look at our surroundings ablaze.

  “So why didn’t we go with them?”

  “I want to see what type of people demons are—maybe take notes too.”

  “Christ.”

  Miyamoto and I were running through the smothering streets of Ikigai.

  Men and demons slaying each other.

  The wall that once stood was mere rubble.

  The women and children of the town are long gone or long dead.

  The wailing of dying men and demons alike haunted the air.

  Some of the boys fighting this war were wandering around the streets with nothing behind their eyes.

  Demons' hands are shaking when they kill.

  I fired a round into the head of the demon; the bullet went through the demon, like it would through any man.

  After killing and seeing as much as I have, nothing fazes you.

  Maybe I was just lying to myself; being a monster isn’t as easy as it looks.

  So what made these things… these beings different?

  Maybe the real question is why must these beings be similar to man at all?

  Is the mind of man so small that his own shadow will bring him fear?

  “Interesting.”

  “What?”

  “I was thinking out loud about what makes a demon different from a man.”

  “Well, no one truly knows.

  Some say they are stronger than the average man.

  Others say they are better at magic.

  A more unknown theory is that the demons were once comrades with man, just like the elves and the dwarves, and so on…”

  “Cover your ears.”

  I fired off three rounds into a larger demon: two to the heart and one to the head. I started checking a dead man's body, finding about thirty-five bullets and a Colt Army Model 1860 and its holster.

  “Nice.”

  Miyamoto gave me an odd look due to my overinterest in a piece of iron, the most feeling he had ever seen out of me.

  “Sorry, please continue.”

  “Like I was saying, some believe a Great War between the races broke out for some reason. Leading to different races picking sides.”

  “A war that would end all war.”

  “V, millions of people are said to have perished in this war. Can’t you be serious for at least five minutes?”

  We step over the killed, and Miyamoto cuts a demon in half without drawing his katana from his sheath.

  “After seeing every dark action of mankind, making sly comments is one of the few things that keep me sane,” I said while we walked over the corpses of men and demons alike.

  “What?”

  “Nothing interesting, my friend. Let's finish this story.”

  “In the end, the side of man won and the demon's side lost, leading to this.” Miyamoto moved his arm across the air, showing the burning town, smoke-filled air, and the sound of the crushing bone.

  “Fun.”

  “The reason people don’t believe in this theory is due to the lack of evidence.”

  “So do you believe in it?”

  “They say every story has seeds of truth in it. But right now, we shouldn’t be telling tales."

  “You’re right; let’s do this.”

  "The art of war is simple enough. Find out where your enemy is. Get at him as soon as you can. Strike him as hard as you can, and keep moving on." —Ulysses S. Grant's