About a Hero (eBook)

Chapter One

Where All Journeys Begin

For one long year, the Kingdom of Sets, in the Country of Brittlelie, has been in turmoil. It was that day when the sky fell did everything turn. In the darkness of night, the air was set ablaze. The atmosphere was split by a sudden bright glint of black light witnessed by many as a sign of impending doom. With a roar that all did hear, from the maw of a Demon God, a black star crashed down on the land. The impact shook the ground thousands of miles in all directions. The crater was massive in size, reshaping the land into a dark valley.

Caught in the destruction, every nearby village was obliterated instantly, all those lives snuffed out before they had a chance to realize. Their stories would never be told again. They would never be remembered as anything more than victims of this cataclysm. A true tragedy. But that was only the beginning.

That star that had fallen was an evil parasite that burrowed into the ground. Slowly, festering in the hole, beastly entities began to come into being. They were nothing but soulless creatures. They looked like withered humanoids covered in thick, black, tar-like fluid. Practically mindless, they thrived on death and pursued nothing other than destruction. Killing was instinctual to their nature.

Within only a few days, several of these creatures were seen all around in villages that were just outside of the destructive area. Their arrival was so sudden that there was little time for the people to react. These monsters would erupt from the ground, crawl out of wells, or mine shafts and go on killing rampages. There was no fighting back for the simple folk. Running was the only option. These incidences increased more and more with the passing days.

The ruler of the territory, King Emery Times, was quick to act. Before the appearance of the monsters and what havoc they wreaked, the military had been sent to aid those affected by the disaster. Camps for refugees were built to provide shelter. Food rations were given out to feed the hungry masses. Medicines and doctors worked to heal the injured.

All the efforts had to be put on hold once the attacks did start. There was too much danger near the epicenter. The camps had to be relocated. The people were evacuated farther into the land. Established patrols kept watch. Borders were erected to keep the creatures at bay. They hoped to quell the situation quickly.

Unfortunately, the soldiers struggled to fight back. Every encounter would result in six deaths of the people for just a single monster to be slain. In time, this trade of lives would worsen. The rise in the body count created difficulties in the Kingdom’s ability to maintain order. Fewer soldiers meant less morale. A draft had to be put into effect so that the military could expand after the number of losses was becoming drastic. Soldiers were recruited, trained, and armed to fight back. These actions worked only to slow the imminent defeat. Even this struggle was short-lived.

The enemy was held back for six months. The efforts put forth to achieve this temporary stalemate caused much strain on the people. It did not help that the number of creatures was growing rapidly. More would rise from the earth no matter how many were killed. They kept spreading faster and faster like a plague.

The frontlines were overwhelmed within the next several months that followed. The forward fortifications had been slowly chipped apart by the relentless attacks. Repairs could never be made because of the constant onslaught. Eventually, the walls collapsed under the pressure and were left destroyed. The vanguard was annihilated along with their base. A full retreat to the backline was ordered.

This defeat had been anticipated. It was thought to be a necessary sacrifice. They had gathered time and knowledge with the first defense. What they had learned was used in the construction of the second barricade that was made to be superior in every way. It was believed that it could hold for ten years.

However, as humans had evolved, so did the enemy. The monsters had become an organized force. Their horde made strategic attacks, eliminating guards, outposts, and refugee facilities systematically as they spread out over the land. The second line of defense was conquered in just another six months. This was the true rise of The Pestual Army.

The dark army swarmed through the forests and over the plains to cover the landscape in their shadow. The sky had become blackened with endless smoke clouds as villages burned across the country. Rivers all ran red and lake bodies turned black with ash and blood.

Life became a constant struggle for survival. Famine began to take the lives of the people since there was no more crop or livestock. The deaths brought disease which brought more death. By the end, what was killing the people was not the monsters but what the monsters had taken from the people, their means to live. All hope seemed lost.

The Capital of Warkton was the last remaining line of defense for the territory. King Emery held fast to his throne. He would not abandon it to save his own life. The kingdom he ruled would be left forfeit if he ran. He would rather die for his people and his land than be a coward who let them die for him. This was not his pride that got in the way but his duty to those that he led.

All the people that sought refuge found what safety they could behind the walls of the city, or in the lands beyond the capital that remained free of the evil. The situation was pure desperation. If Warkton fell, those lands would no doubt share the same fate. Sets had to win here and now if they wanted to survive.

But the odds were against the kingdom. It appeared that Warkton would not last. By the turn of one year, The Pestual Army had eradicated every land between the crater and the castle. And now, the evil forces made their approach to their final target.

The attack was not immediate. The enemy stayed at a distance to slowly gather in mass. They intended to take the stronghold in a single charge with an all-out raid. Victory dwindled out of sight as the size of the horde became immense. The gathering of monsters stretched out to the horizon like a black marsh. The castle was surrounded by this living swamp that constantly bubbled and moved.

Sounds, caws, and chittering like spastic clicks came from all directions. It was maddening to hear. The people were slowly being driven into a panic. Morale had been completely demolished. It seemed the end was inevitable.

One man stood at the frontline in defense without fear even as doom approached. Gregor Cross was the noblest of knights. A large man, he stood over six feet tall. His body was comprised entirely of muscle, making him exceptionally strong and quite fast with a powerful constitution. His golden hair was cut very short so as not to get in the way whenever he fought. The calm blue coloring of his eyes held an intensity with his off-in-the-distance stare. Experience and virtue were held in his glare while also giving off wrath due to his brow. All his facial features were tough, creating a true warrior’s façade. A scar was cut from the center of his forehead to the corner of his hairline, making him even tougher in appearance.

Just Gregor alone caused the monsters to waver. He had survived every battle that he fought in and, though most battles were not won, his command did not suffer defeat either. His swordsmanship learned through his family line was considered unbeatable and proven to be just that. His skills were beyond human. The tides of battle would always turn with him as if a Deity was on his side.

Other than being a soldier, Gregor was a legend. The gear he was equipped with attested to that. His sword once belonged to the Angel of War, given to him as a gift for being a true master of the battlefield. The armor he wore was crafted from the bones of an elder dragon he had slain single-handedly. The material was more powerful than any metal, resistant to all magic, and nearly indestructible. He was a juggernaut. And, even if his suit did fail him somehow, the jewel embedded in his left arm would keep him safe. The yellow crystal could truly defend against anything.

However, this challenge was on a different level. His indomitable spirit would not pull him through this time.

A second legend was let to fight. The king was reluctant at first because he did not want his daughter risking her life. At least, not in the beginning. However, this was the final stand. He could no longer allow his personal feelings to get in the way of Sets’ survival.

For the first time, Evelyn Times could join the battle. From the moment the crises occurred, she begged to be sent forth to aid the resistance. All she ever received was a no. As the people were being slaughtered, the military was being crushed, she could do nothing to help. She was the heir to the throne. If she died, the lineage of royalty would die with her. She accepted that reason and abstained from fighting. Or acted as if she was.

Evelyn’s father was the king, but her mother was the former spymaster. Evelyn was trained to be a master rogue. Her stealth abilities were among the best. She would often sneak out of the castle at night to recon the surrounding areas. Many times, she intercepted monsters that would have made attacks on the capital while the defenses were at their weakest. Nobody knew how much she had done to keep them safe. That was the point.

Other than stealth, Evelyn was skilled at assassination and masterful in direct combat. Her speed left her unseen when she attacked. Every strike she made was lethal. She could take down dozens of enemies simultaneously...