Pain.
A suffocating weight pressed down on them. Each breath felt like an iron vice tightening around their chest, drowning them in despair.
The battlefield lay in ruined- bodies of their fallen comrades scattered like broken dolls, limbs twisted unnaturally. The silence was thick and oppressive, broken only by the pounding rhythm of their own frantic hearts.
Thump… Thump…
Their hands clenched, trembling under the weight of emotions too vast to name.
Hot tears carved paths down their dirt-streaked faces, leaving behind the sting of grief and rage.
The air grew heavier, laden with sorrow, anger, and a suffocating sense of despair.
"Huff... Huff..."
Each breath they took felt like a cruel reminder that they were still alive to witness this nightmare.
Ba- dump. Ba- dump.
Despair slithered into their minds like a specter, wrapping around their thoughts, drowning them in its suffocating depths.
It was relentless.
Maddening.
And most terrifying of all-
Ba- dump. Ba- dump.
I-It was overwhelming.
Before them stood the source of it all.
A single figure. A man who stood alone.
Some would call him an army onto himself.
His presence as indomitable as the heavens above.
Clench.
Their fists tightened, nails biting into flesh.
Perhaps he was a God amongst men.
Or perhaps… he was something far worse.
His broad back faced them, seemingly bearing the weight of the heavens themselves.
His cold, indifferent gaze sliced through the air like a blade, sending a chills down their spines.
Ba- dump. Ba- dump.
He stood amidst the carnage, like some sort of heavenly demon conjured from the depths of hell to lay waste to the world above.
And in all sincerity, he did even better.
Around him lay ruin.
Mangled flesh, shattered bones and severed heads, the aftermath of destruction- It was a sight both horrifying and awe-inspiring in equal measure.
But nevertheless, if there was one thing that couldn't be denied.
If there was one thing that couldn't be refuted.
'Hah.' That was the fact that, he had managed to pass across the intended message.
***
The soldiers bit their lips, desperate to suppress the storm raging within them.
Clench.
Their fists tightened as a surge of emotion threatened to consume them.
Defiance.
Anger.
And something darker.
Something more primal.
'Aaaaaarggghh!!' It pierced right through their hearts.
They bit down harder, the metallic tang of blood flooding their mouths.
Yet... It did nothing to calm the turmoil inside..
If anything-
Drip. Drip.
It only worsened.
It slowly grew into a suffocating force that threatened to take their breath away from them.
The pressure mounted, unbearable and suffocating.
In the presence of the suffocating darkness.
Slip~
Weapons slipped from trembling hands, the clangor of metals reverberating through the stifling quiet.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Tears streaked down their faces as their knees buckled beneath them.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Their voices broke as they whispered through trembling lips.
"We're sorry Emperor…. We're sorry..."
Silent sobs broke out of their chest, their grief unheard within the suffocating dark.
And with silent cries, and heart bleeding with pain, anger and unwillingness-
They all knelt before him.
How could they kneel before the man who had stolen everything from them?
They all knelt before Napoleon- The Conqueror.
Yet how could they not, when his mere presence alone, crushed their will to stand?
...In that moment, they abandoned their pride, their honor, and the very essence of what it meant to be men of the Roselle Empire.
All that remained were shattered spirits, and their desperate pleas for forgiveness.
Over and over again.
With tears dripping onto the ground beneath them.
Their voices cracked, carrying their anguish, pain and a vast amount of other untold emotions, to the heavens above.
"...We're sorry Emperor… We're sorry."
***
Despite the crushing exhaustion threatening to consume him, Napoleon III maintained his cold, indifferent facade.
He was drained- his spirituality and soul core pushed to their limits.
Yet-
Clench.
He bit down on his tongue, forcing himself to remain steady.
His back barely shuddered as his gaze swept across the battlefield. Cold. Suffocating and unnerving.
Coupled with Monarch's Aura, the effect was heightened to insurmountable extents and everyone was forced to kneel.
Thump. Thump.
No one could look him in the eye.
No man dared to meet his gaze.
They were too afraid of what they would see staring right back at them.
Clench.
His grip tightened further.
He couldn't afford to show weakness..
Not here.
Not now.
Even as exhaustion threatened to pull him under, he exhaled softly.
"I did it."
A weak smile tugged at his lips.
But-
"Hah..."
His vision blurred.
Bite-
The taste of blood filled his mouth.
"Huh… Huh."
With a final breath, he stepped into the shadows, vanishing fron sight.
But not before leaving his final decree.
"Scavenge the mines. Assign the men to the army. The women- Tatiana, you know what to do. And..."
He strode over the remnants of the battlefield, his boots sinking into the bloodied earth.
"Lock Roselle in the dungeon."
Step~ Step~
His voice cut through the silence like a blade.
An order delivered like a nightmarish omen.
And then,
Nothing.
Only the suffocating quiet of the battlefield remained.
***
Among those left standing, Anarzel shuddered.
Only now did he understand the full weight of the Emperor's name.
He had heard the rumors.
The whispered tales carried by the wind.
Stories of an indomitable conqueror.
Of course, he had dismissed them. Marked them as mere exaggerations.
But this-
This macabre sight before him.
It faf surpassed any tale he had ever heard.
Reality was far more terrifying than the most absurd legend.
No words, no story, no rumor could capture the full extent of Napoleon's dominance.
And yet-
A deep frown marred Anarzel's face.
"How? How does he keep getting stronger?!"
"Is such growth even possible?"
He wracked his mind for an answer, yet none came.
Only one thing was certain.
It has to be a miracle.
A power beyond human comprehension.
And whatever it was-
It was something of a higher existential order.
Even now, the memory of the dreadful presence clung to him.
His hands trembled.
His breath hitched.
And despite the sunlight breaking through the lingering darkness-
He still felt the suffocating weight of Napoleon's power pressing down on his chest.
Tick...
Tick...
Even with the Emperor gone, the fear remained.
It lingered.
Like an invisible hand clenched around his throat.
"Hah..."
A light laugh came from somehwere behind him.
Anarzel turned, meeting the steady gaze of colonel Wenchi.
The godly archer smirked, shaking his head. "You'll get used to it."
Anarzel swallowed a lump of saliva.
A weak, forced smile crept onto his face. "I hope so."
But deep down, he knew.
This was something no man could ever get used to.
Wenchi smiled, his eyes flickering a bright crimson glow.
And before long, the commands of the emperor were carried out.
***
Tick...
Tick...
Time easily clocked by.
Perhaps a few hours, days or perhaps even weeks, later.
Within a dark, lightless underground, hidden deep within an endless darkness.
A figure.
A broken, battered and bloodied figure could be seen.
They had gone through the worst of torture that man could dream of.
From torture so harrowing, it could literally break anyone, over and over again.
To torture that broke their bones and rumpled their organs. To be healed once again.
The cycle was endless. Never-ending.
It was abysmal beyond what words could expanseate on.
"Hu…. Hu…"
Their hair at this point had long grown disheveled, even their usual bright lustre was slowly dimming.
Their face, their eyes to be more precise, were filled with tears. Blood streaked tears.
Debuffing arts that did the worst, inhumane-opposite of buffing arts- they had gone through them all.
Pain.
Anger.
Agony.
They had suffered them all.
And each time.
Every single time.
Their answer still remained the same.
"You can go to hell!" he spat out a mouthful of blood on Anarzel's face.
"Y-You bastard!" Anarzel raged, and sent a punch flying right for Klaus's face.
Baaaaaang!!!
The punch landed, and Klaus's vision blurred, blood seeping from the corner of his lips as his head dropped downwards, a bright red liquid dripping onto the cold floor beneath him.
Drip. Drip.
Anarzel was just about to deliver another devastating punch, the air whizzing violently when-
"No need." A voice cut in.
Step.
A figure suddenly strode in, his snow white hair cascaded down his shoulders while his cold gaze sent chills through the very souls' of those who gazed at him.
"...E-Emperor." Anarzel was quick to get on his knees, eyes locking with the ground beneath him.
Napoleon waved a hand, signifying for Anarzel to get to his feet.
Now facing Roselle, he smiled. "You don't need to bother him.... Not anymore."
".....?!"
Anarzel's brow arched upward.
"I would have been disappointed if he had actually given up... so easily."
Shifting his gaze away from Roselle to Anarzel. "But you know what?"
He smiled darkly, and somehow that smile sent a chill through Anarzel.
Shudder.
'Hah...'
"I've got all the time in the world."
Step~ Step~
He threw Roselle one last glance and with a light, unsettling laugh that resonated in the endless dark, he slowly stepped out of the dungeon.
But not without leaving a word behind-
"Get him prepared. We'll be heading for the Empire in a fortnight."
"Yes, Your Majesty." Anarzel replied, bowing slightly.
Napoleon nodded and slowly walked out of the endless darkness, leaving the two figures behind, once again.
He knew If he ever wanted a chance of getting Roselle, he needed someone Roselle shared a sentimental bond with.
…Even if it no longer exists.
With a light exasperated
sigh, he made way for the throne room.
An addition to the bundles he had.
…And to be honest, the workload was becoming too much to take in.
But,
"Ha… Ha..." he had no other choice.
With tightly clenched hands, he continued pushing forward.
He had to. He was left with no other choice.
***
In the endless dark.
The torture continued.
Whip!
Slash!!
"Be Healed!"
Sequence 9 of the Mother pathway- Nurturer- ensured that the torment could persist endlessly, trapping Klaus in an unrelenting cycle of agony.
The act was cruelly precise, preventing Klaus's death, while prolonging his suffering beyond comprehension.
But,
***
"Ha-hahah-aha-" An unsettling laugh escaped my lips.
One that sent chills down Anarzel's spine.
And this only prompted him to clench his teeth even tighter, anger simmering right beneath his skin.
"Do you find pleasure in this wretched torment?!" he asked.
I simply smiled in response.
And-
Slash!
It only prompted him to lash out.
His slashes became faster.
Harder, even.
But-
Slash!
Slash!
My smile only widened.
Pain.
Pain, I could endure.
Rip!
Rip!!
Pain.
A wide grin spread across my face.
...Pain, I was no stranger to.