Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Chapter 3: The Side Story

For Yupi, a young girl who lived in a remote village among the mountains, that day unleashed itself with a violence as sudden as it was devastating.

“Do you support the Emperor, or do you join the revolution?”

“The E-Emperor, Your Majesty!”

The interrogator was a member of the Iron Cavalry, protected by a suit of armor never seen before. Faced with such a dilemma, Yupi, completely oblivious to the political conflicts of the outside world, instinctively chose the faction that appeared to possess greater authority and hegemony.

“Have you chosen the emperor?”

“Y-Yes! We are nothing but submissive servants of Your Majesty…”

That testimony marked the beginning of an absolute catastrophe.

“Execute anyone who opposes the revolution.”

“…!”

“What do we do with the girl, sir?”

“Do as you please. Just make sure to erase any traces when you are finished.”

“Understood!”

Faced with the macabre inquiry of his subordinate, the officer identified as the lieutenant turned his gaze away with utter coldness. Immediately, a detonation shattered the air. It was the blast that ended the life of Yupi’s father, who, in a desperate act, had attempted to protect his daughter with his own body.

“Aaah!”

“Daddy!”

Laments devoured the atmosphere. The inhabitants of the village, begging for clemency too late, fell riddled with bullets one after another by the combatants’ weaponry.

Tears blurred Yupi’s vision, her sanity hanging by a thread in the face of desolation. The moment the soldiers attempted to violate her, she reacted by fiercely sinking her teeth into the fingers of the subject who held her by the hair.

Exerting all the energy she had left, Yupi managed to break free and began to run at high speed. In her mind appeared the memory of that solitary individual who dwelt on the most distant edges of the community, a being whom the rest of the villagers shunned and branded a “monster.” Despite the general fear, she remembered that in the past, he had saved her life.

“Please, help me!” Yupi cried out in desperation as she tried to escape. The riders closed the distance relentlessly, making the flight of a defenseless child from an armored pursuit seem like a lost cause.

“What is the reason for such a disturbance?”

Just as Yupi’s clamor pierced the surroundings, an individual covered in a robe emerged from a rustic dwelling nearby. A dense darkness seemed to cling forcefully beneath his garments.

“There is no compassion for opponents of the revolution,” one of the members of the Iron Cavalry sentenced arrogantly.

“Revolution, you say?” the mysterious hooded subject replied, tilting his face and showing bewilderment.

Bang!

A combatant on horseback, equipped with the most avant-garde armor, extended his limb. A devastating impact of unknown origin emerged from his palm, unleashing a lethal blast.

A dense cloud of dark smoke spread through the area, foreboding a fatal and predictable outcome.

Yupi gasped, assuming that the man’s body would have been completely pulverized, erasing any vestige of his existence.

However, the panorama was different.

“What the…?”

The individual in the robe remained motionless in the exact same spot, as if the discharge of impacts had been nothing more than a mere mirage.

“How many empires have witnessed their ruin, and how many sovereigns have already perished?” the subject inquired.

“Which empire do you intend to overthrow this time?”

“What the hell are you talking about…?”

Those expressions lacked any logic for the soldiers, resembling the ravings of a madman.

“In the past, I destroyed the Third Empire. Subsequently, my own empire suffered the same fate. Therefore, is this the fifth empire you seek to tear down? Does that piece of weaponry represent your secret resource to subjugate my sister, Lize, and her sovereignty?”

“What kind of madness is this…?”

It was inconceivable to decipher how that stranger had tolerated the revolutionary onslaught of the magic armor, considered the pinnacle achievement of magical engineering. There was no doubt that it was an anomaly or a temporary malfunction.

“Finish off the imperial dog!”

Under that premise, the rider extended his limb once more. The internal channels of his magic armor surged into operation, and the dark residue dissipated into the air again.

Boom!

This time, the deflagration did not affect the wearer of the robe. It was the haughty warrior of the rebel faction, the rider himself, who blew into pieces.

“What happened…?”

“They have downed our ally!”

The rest of the troop turned immediately toward the mysterious individual. They were unable to assimilate what had occurred, but they deduced that the subject had employed some kind of trick to harm their companion.

“Activate the armor’s tactical deployment!”

“Execute tactical formation!”

Both the lieutenant and the rest of his men roared orders, and the metallic protections they wore began to contract and expand like living organisms, adhering to their physiognomies.

Clank, clank!

The metallic structure, acting as a reinforced framework, covered and integrated every section of the riders’ bodies, granting them a substantial increase in strength.

“….”

The hooded man contemplated the transformation with curiosity, subtly tilting his head. From his perspective, they bore a resemblance to the armored hosts of the “old world,” elements that might perhaps prove useful for the social order they intended to establish through their revolts.

“Extermination awaits the detractors of the revolution!”

“Death to the detractors of the revolution!”

He was not interested, nor was he affected in the slightest. Those proclamas loaded with revolutionary fanaticism functioned as an echo of the past that revived ancient foolishness, holding him in its memories.

The wearer of the robe traced an ironic grimace, downplaying the sophisticated equipment of the Iron Cavalry.

From the soles of his feet, an icy wave began to expand.

That frozen manifestation, which defied any logical principle of reality, projected itself forcefully against the Iron Cavalry, whose members wore revolutionary breastplates and released residues of gunpowder.

Crack, crack.

The soldiers were unable to assimilate the origin of such a thermal drop emanating from the stranger.

No matter how sophisticated their protective technology presented itself, they lacked the means to resist the definitive winter that prophesied the twilight of existence.

The Lord of Winter manifested before them.

The frost advanced swiftly from the individual’s base, trapping and solidifying the structures of the Iron Cavalry. The fiery emanations bursting from their magic armors were reduced to simple childish entertainment compared to his power.

“….”

Not even the ideological fervor of the assailants could offer resistance against the cosmic winter that inhabited the interior of the stranger.

“What is the ultimate purpose of your rebellion?”

“A-Aaaah…”

While spreading the frost of judgment day, the man spoke. Upon witnessing how the rest of the squad succumbed before the Lord of Winter, one of the combatants collapsed onto the ground, completely distraught.

“What principle so elevated does your movement pursue to validate such savagery, devoid of compassion or understanding?” the stranger questioned.

His tone of voice denoted neither sarcasm nor manifest hostility. It was a genuine doubt, as if it were truly impossible for him to understand the situation.

“We… make up the revolutionary bloc that fights the oppression of the Emperor…”

“Contemplate the surroundings,” the subject indicated, showing a certain strangeness.

“Does it seem to you that the dwellers of this small village bear any relation to the defenders of the sovereign you fight?”

“They… they showed loyalty to the emperor and rejected our cause!”

“Does such a stance constitute an offense that must be paid with one’s life?”

The individual tilted his face and questioned him again.

At that precise moment, the lieutenant commanding the Iron Cavalry detected a window of opportunity and launched himself into the attack.

The fulminating offensive of an expert in the management of aura, making use of the armor of thought, moved with the speed of a flash of lightning.

Clang!

The blade wielded by the officer impacted against an extremely hard surface, being repelled with a vibrating echo.

Had he managed to block the blow using a bladed weapon?

With that question in mind, the lieutenant raised his gaze, remaining petrified and speechless with shock.

The stranger’s attire moved autonomously, emulating a biological entity.

The officer lacked the knowledge to identify that this was the “Cloak of Shadows,” a relic linked to the forces of the penumbra.

“Under the premise that an erroneous judgment merits the execution of the innocents gathered here…”

The garment, dark as midnight, agitated intensely, while a freezing and dreadful current emanated from his position.

“Then your own determination, deficient at the moment of calibrating the opponent’s power, makes you equally deserving of the same fatal destiny.”

“A-Aaaah…!”

A shriek of pure suffering broke the air, a sound distant from any manifestation emitted by an ordinary creature of this plane.

It responded to the invocation of the entities of the penumbra that inhabited the depths of the dark pool that had arisen at the individual’s feet.

The “shadow stalkers” extended their appendages filled with thorns, hopelessly imprisoning the iron cavalry.

Those dark, living manifestations tore apart the revolutionary protections, forcing their way through the tissues. Vital fluids and organic remains scattered in a dantesque scenario.

“Aaah, aaaaah!”

Crunch, crunch, crunch!

Tissues, fluids, and bone structures were crushed and scattered everywhere. That agony proved so devastating that the soldiers who had previously been petrified by the winter of the end of the world could well consider themselves fortunate.

In a flash, the dozens of components of the Iron Cavalry were reduced to a minimal expression. Any intention of presenting battle had evaporated from their minds.

“Mercy, please, grant me forgiveness! I implore you!”

“Do you intend to appeal to my benevolence?” the subject inquired, denoting strangeness.

“Where was the ideological conviction and the savagery you proclaimed just a moment ago?” demanded the Lord of Cold and Shadows, of Winter and Darkness.

“After witnessing the atrocities that both you and your allies have perpetrated before me, what reasons do you grant me to concede you clemency?”

He tilted his face slightly, plunged into an apparent state of real incomprehension.

For the survivors, the experience was equivalent to confronting a mystical entity alien to their reality, allowing an absolute dread to dominate them.

“It is a misunderstanding! Everything is a misunderstanding!”

“A misunderstanding, according to your words.”

The individual let out a grimace of laughter steeped in disappointment.

“Certainly, an infinity of tragedies are unleashed from the most insignificant misunderstandings.”

Crack!

Suddenly, sharp, jet-black extensions emerged from the shadowed terrain. The combatants trapped in their iron armors lacked the reflexes to dodge them before the piercing elements penetrated through the openings of their protections.

The space did not even allow room for laments. Only a muffled echo, reminiscent of the process of absorbing their vital essences, remained suspended in the air.

The entity linked to winter and shadow diverted his attention.

The moment Yufi confirmed that the penumbra hidden beneath the stranger’s robe fixed its course toward her, vigor abandoned her limbs once more.

“I, I…”

“There is no reason for panic,” the man articulated, employing a noticeably calmer and more comforting intonation compared to his previous interactions.

“Who are you…?” Yufi managed to pronounce with difficulty, evidencing the fear that overwhelmed her. Immediately after formulating the doubt, she internally regretted it, judging that she had committed an audacity.

“Throughout time, multiple identities have been attributed to me,” the subject manifested, drawing a smile loaded with nostalgia.

“Nonetheless, at this point in my existence, I lack certainty about what appellation to use to refer to myself.”