The setting sun painted the horizon red, red to match the ground upon which the cavalry was rooted, the darkness followed swiftly just like the dried-up blood on the horses' hooves.
The battlefield was eerily quiet, no more clashes of steel, no sparks of flame, nor the mages arcana remained.
The cavalry had formed a tight circle around their prey, the final heir of a bannerman's lineage and his guardian knight.
The circle split apart as a horse of pitch strode forward, it was almost twice the size of any other steed, and seated upon it was a man with the presence of a mountain.
Lothair strode to the front of the encirclement and climbed of his mighty steed, his blue stormy eyes landed upon the two and a bemused smirk split his face as he watched the two standing in their heavy plate armor, swords raised to do battle.
His bemused expression only grew as he reached for the straps of his armor and removed each piece in a slow drawn out pace.
The tension grew in the pair their firm stances grew shaky, as they experienced the mockery of the Demon of War, his statement was clear that he didn't need a single a piece of armor to face them, it was an insult to the lord, but plain mockery to the knight.
Lothair stepped upon the corpses as he closed the distance, crushing them under boot their armor and bones only seemed to be things of decoration under his might stride.
By the time he reached the pair even his sword had been left behind, firmly attached into the eye socket of the lords closest aid, his amusement only grew when he heard the lords teeth grinding in anger.
"Your arrogance knows no bounds, Lothair Avalion!" the knight roared, "To mock us such, you are a man with no honor, do you think spells alone will be sufficient to beat us,"
"Spells?!" Lothair quipped, his amusement only growing.
A chorus of chuckles and laughs rang out from the encirclement.
"Your arrogance will be your downfall," the knight ignored the laughs and charged a blue aura enveloped his form and his sword blazed with the radiance of a skill.
But the clash was over in a flash, and it could hardly be called a clash, it was like an adult fighting a toddler.
Smack.
The knight hit the dirt, his helm caved in on the side, the steel pressed firmly against his cheek.
Lothair shook his head and turned to the lord, and disappointment took his lips as he watched the lord quiver in terror.
"Any last words, I'll try to remember them if you have anything good to say," his voice was as deep as the knight and as silky as the moon.
"The gods will never forgive you for this you monster, may the gods curses be upon you for what you've done to my family!" it seemed that he managed to find some courage in his final moments.
"Ah, now I don't feel so bad that you're about to die, the world is better off with one less fool who has power," Lothair didn't bother to explain himself, in the next second a shout came from behind.
"Die!" the knight roared as he thrust his sword forward, but Lothair seemed to vanish and yet a spurt of fresh blood exploded from the tip of the blade.
The knight starred mouth agape in horror as the blood poured out the throat of his master, the look of horror and betrayal on the lords face mirrored his knights, and from behind the lord appeared the figure of Lothair.
A self satisfied grin covered his face, his little game was nearing its end, but he wasn't done yet, there was something more he wanted to do this time, his actions were always meaningful, he didn't like to waste time on pointless things.
"Well," he looked at the knight, "How do you feel, liberated or devastated?" he asked an earnest curiosity burning in his eyes.
"Don't be too hasty to answer, it differs from person to person, those who hate their lords or are dissatisfied often feel liberated, those who admire their lieges and believe in them are often devastated, and there also those who aren't sure about how to feel,"
"But know this reality it is you who killed your liege, and you took it to the next level you killed the last of an ancient lineage," he said to the knight, "Every warrior in history who achieved such a thing has had their name remembered in history for generations to remember, tell me doesn't that make you proud?"
"...y-you bastard," the knight cursed as he crumpled to his knees and cradled the lifeless head of his lord.
"I guess that you are of the latter then," said Lothair as he stepped toward the knight.
The knight looked up a Lothair with darkened eyes, he cast his helm to the side and tilted his head back exposing his neck, "Just kill me, there is no reason for me to continue living,"
Lothair crouched down meeting the knights empty gaze, "Ah yes," Lothair nodded, "That does make sense doesn't it, at least it used to for me,"
"We nobles find those who are capable when they are young and we assign to you a purpose, when you show promise as a warrior we make you a warrior and tell you that you exist with that strength so that you can fight for those of us who have real power."
"When you have exceptional talent as a warrior and come from a decent lineage we make you knights, and we declare that your purpose in life is to protect our bloodline,"
"Was that not the case with you as well!" stated Lothair.
The knight blinked as he recalled how proud his parents were when he could swing the sword at the age of five, at the age of ten he became a squire and at the age of sixteen a knight and protector of the lords youngest son, he didn't have a say in the matter and he never really questioned it.
"But look at the reality, the purpose that they said you were born for no longer exists, the banner of Arton is vanquished by your hand no less,"
"They decided your purpose when they could not see the future, for certainly had they seen this future never would they have taken you on as even a cleaning boy,"
"If the purpose for which you exist was truly to defend the Arton lineage why does your heart still beat, why do your eyes still see, why do your ears still hear, when all of them are already dead, if that was truly the purpose of your existence, then why did you not fade from existence in the moment they ceased to be,"
"I shall tell you why you still live knight of Arton, it is because they were all liars and tyrants, the ones who told you your purpose,"
"It doesn't matter who it was, your parents or relatives, spiritual leaders, lesser nobles, nobility, royalty, the kings and queens and yes even the gods themselves, none of them have the slightest qualification to the determine the purpose of another, and that is because none of them are truly omnipotent, they do not perceive all the future and all of them are in contests for greater power and influence, and so it is evident that none of them is all-powerful, and all knowing."
"For if any of them were, then all things would be as they decreed it to be, then I would have never had the power to rob you of the purpose that was granted to you,"
"But the scariest part is this not even we have the right to determine the purpose of our own existence, for we are in the exact same boat as the lot of them, I cannot see the future, and neither can any one else," a soft laugh escaped the mouth of Lothair as he seemed to be coming to a realization of his own.
"And since that is the case it means that everything we do is pointless, how many a person has decided their purpose is to be rich to be the richest, to be the most powerful, to be the greatest, and yet how many of them died before they could even reach their goal,"
"They determined their own purpose and failed to achieve it, so naturally they lived a life in vain, it doesn't matter how much they achieved along the way if they failed in their purpose then they lived a life in delusions,"
"See this is why life seems so unfair, it sbecause everyone wants to determine their own purpose, then they all want to determine the purpose of others, and they love to think themselves qualified as determiners, whilst they don't even qualify as determiners of their own purpose,"
"And so, I have concluded that for life to be fair, then there must be a universal purpose for all irrespective of whether one is rich or poor, beautiful or ugly, capable or disable, influential or powerless, strong or weak, talented or talentless, sickly or healthy,"
"however the answer cannot be determined by anyone accept one who is omnipotent, who knows all things, who sees all things, the past the present and the future, one with power over all things, one infallible, and most importantly one who does not lie,"
The aged knights empty eyes shrunk and then a mirthful laugh escaped his lips, as if he had found some solace in the end, "You're a madman Lothair Avalion, you describe the fantasies of the fools of the past,"
"Fantasies that are blasphemous against the gods themselves, truly you have become enthralled by your own power and now you wish to stake your place amongst the gods," the knight threw back his head and laughed.
"My only regret now Lothair Avalion is that I will not see the wrath of the gods befall you, and all that you..."
A flash of silver passed through the air, and the knights head came crashing down, his final words cut off.
Lothair looked at him with a bored expression, "Well this was at least a little fruitful, I'm closer to the answer than ever before," he said as he rose to meet an approaching rider.
"Lord Commander," called Malzart a raven perched on his pauldron and an unfurled parchment rested in his palm.
"The Arton forces in the west ridge has been rooted, Captain Stanely awaits your order,"
"Have them wait, we'll pincer them and clear out the enemy in one fell swoop, tell him that I don't want to hear about a single casualty in this battle, for after we shall ride home to Evarun," as he issued his order he tore the head of the corpse of the last lord of Arton, it would make a fine gift for the goddess.
The cavalry cheered at the news, the campaign had been long, the Arton's were the last in a long line of battles, and probably one of the easiest victories.
Finally they would be returning home to be graced by the goddess herself, Serene the Unbreached.
As the soldiers moved out Malzart stayed by his lords side, "Is it true what you said, is life, is everything that we do meaningless?" he asked.
Lothiar grasped the hair on the head of the dead lord, "It would appear so, but that cannot be, there must be a greater purpose, no there has to be... but this I swear to you Malzart, I will dedicate the rest of my life to finding that purpose,"