Ancient Empire Calendar, Year 1834
One million soldiers under the command of Marco Ashterah had landed in the Southern Lands.
Facing them was one million soldiers under the command of Ayaan Arfas, who had swollen his armies with reinforcement legions.
The two Commanders-in-Chief were at the very front, leading their armies.
There was no speech. Marco was becoming mad with rage as he beheld the killer of his loved ones.
Shortly after, the two Commanders-in-Chief gave the order to attack.
"ATTACK!"
"ATTACK!"
The Ashterah and Arfas armies charged at each other at full speed.
The first clashes occurred very quickly.
In this battle, where tens of thousands of men died per minute, the commanders also engaged in duels.
Marco swung his sword, enveloped in his Sun-Yellow Aura, towards Ayaan.
To deflect the incoming attack, Ayaan shaped his Brown Aura into a shield.
When Marco's Aura-infused sword struck Ayaan's Aura-forged shield, a violent tremor and energy wave erupted.
Soldiers around them were flung to distant points by the resulting energy.
Ayaan's shield deflected the attack but began to crack.
The bones in his right hand and arm, which held the shield, fractured, becoming unusable.
"AAHH! DAMN IT!"
Marco took pleasure in Ayaan's cry of pain.
"What's wrong? Does it hurt? It will hurt much more. I won't give you an easy death."
Ayaan attacked more fiercely with the sword in his left hand, but none of his strikes reached Marco.
"You killed so many people I valued."
Marco severed Ayaan's left hand with a single stroke.
"AAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"
The more Marco heard Ayaan's screams, the more he was filled with sadistic pleasure.
"More."
Marco cut off Ayaan's right arm, then both his legs.
Ayaan's screams were piercing enough to make ears bleed.
All his limbs except his left arm were severed. His blood stained the sand red.
To stay alive, he channeled mana into his mouth, casting spells, spewing fire from his mouth like a dragon.
Marco channeled mana into his hand, casting a water spell. He created a shield of water, evaporating the flames spewed at him.
When Ayaan's mana was exhausted and he was on the verge of death from blood loss, he gave up and began begging for mercy.
"Please... just end it."
Marco glanced at the broken Ayaan.
"I would have liked to make you suffer more, but this is enough."
Marco cut off Ayaan's head. He knelt on one knee, held Ayaan's head, shaped his Sun-Yellow Aura into a spear, and impaled Ayaan's severed head on its tip.
He raised the spear, channeled mana into his vocal cords, amplified his voice, and declared his victory to the entire battlefield.
"I, MARCO ASHTERAH, HAVE TAKEN THE HEAD OF AYAAN ARFAS!"
Upon the death of their Commander-in-Chief, the Arfas soldiers began to flee in terror, while the Ashterah soldiers gave chase.
Victory belonged to the Ashterah Dynasty. But like every victory, this one would have its price.
As Marco walked among his soldiers, an Ashterah soldier approached him, knelt, and bowed his head.
"I greet the Dynasty Lord, My Lord. Your son, Hakuda Ashterah, lost his life in the battle."
Marco was in shock. After his eldest son Tajong, now his middle son Hakuda was also dead.
He said nothing. He just walked, walked, and walked, until he reached the lifeless body of his son Hakuda.
When he came alongside his son's dead body, he knelt down. His trembling hands slowly embraced his son. He held him, kissed him, and drowned in tears, remaining motionless like that for hours.
That evening, Marco slowly began to come to himself.
The commanders beside him tried to console Marco.
"Thank you all. You have always been by my side in difficult times."
Marco took a deep breath.
"I no longer have the strength to sit on the throne."
The Ashterah commanders jumped to their feet and objected.
"NO, DYNASTY LORD! WHAT WOULD WE DO WITHOUT YOU?"
"WITH YOUR TWO MOST PROMISING HEIRS DEAD, WHAT WOULD WE DO WITHOUT YOU?"
"DYNASTY LORD, PLEASE RECONSIDER!"
All the commanders bowed their heads and pleaded.
"PLEASE RECONSIDER, DYNASTY LORD!"
After thinking for a while, Marco announced his decision.
"Please raise your heads. My decision is final. If my last surviving son, Njassar Rappa, also dies, the Ashterah Dynasty ends."
One commander objected.
"You are still relatively young. You could take a wife or concubine and have more children."
"Commander Tu Su is right, Dynasty Lord. I don't know if it would interest you, but I have a very beautiful and young daughter, and she is still a virgin."
Another commander grew angry at these words.
"COMMANDER SHANG, KNOW YOUR PLACE! Dynasty Lord, I have a sister. A mature and intelligent woman, more suitable for you."
Commander Shang was angered by Commander Haruka's words.
"LOOK WHO'S TALKING! YOU OPPORTUNIST!"
The arguments among the commanders finally exhausted Marco's patience.
"ENOUGH."
A deathly silence suddenly fell over the tent. Marco, known for his calmness and understanding, shocked those who saw this demeanor.
"My decision is final. I, Marco Ashterah I, founder and first Dynasty Lord of the Ashterah Dynasty, in the 20th year of my reign, abdicate my throne in favor of my last surviving son, Njassar Rappa Ashterah. My decision is final, and I will not accept any objection."
The Ashterah commanders reluctantly bowed their heads.
"We obey your decision, Dynasty Lord."
The Ashterah commanders dispersed. Marco was left alone with his thoughts.
"As the years pass, friends leave the table one by one. Life keeps slapping me in the face with the truth of that saying. How many more friends will I lose? Though, do I have any friends left?"
At that moment, Marco thought of his late son Tajong's children, barely more than babies, and their widowed wives.
"I suppose, as a father and grandfather, all that's left for me is to raise and protect my grandchildren."
Marco rose from his throne and left his tent. He looked up at the star-filled sky and sighed.
"I'm tired."