Western Pathland Grove,
The scouting regiment in the Imperial Army spread out from the centre of Nua at Raynor, the capital region. They scatter throughout to inform different squads patrolling the local residencies in different regions to tell them to round up the magnicks. As everyone would believe him to be in motion towards Abadar to enforce order in the eastern region, Hyperion had in fact secretly separated from his platoon and had made arrangements to head to Malu City of the region of Malu in the west. He is currently on a farmer’s cart, escorted by a man transporting organics on his way there. Hyperion, resting on the boxes of goods takes a look at his noble blade, a well-crafted sword made out of adamantium. He remembers how he used the sword to thrust it into an Ogre’s neck deep into its head killing it. Going back nearly a year prior to the day, for some odd reason the fiend suddenly attacked in the night while Hyperion and his troop at the time were patrolling the area. A man etched in his memory, a man who should have obtained a ruling class status by his side who had fought valiantly during the restoration era comes to mind. Hyperion has a flashback of the events that unfolded tied to his ever faithful friend, an event that could well be the reason he has the title of General in the present.
On a night quiet with no one in sight asides from a few men on patrol in the streets of Malu City, a monster giant in size breaks through the walls hungry to spill blood and feast on the flesh of its victims. The giant fiend of morbidity, an Ogre. Gallanting at almost three times the size of a normal sized man, the Ogre crushes into a household and starts killing an innocent family living there. Word spread close to the shattered walls of the city about this monstrosity lingering in the vicinity. The locals panicked in fear and call out the patrolling Battalion of the Saints to fight off the fiend. The task would have been easy if they had the numbers and the equipment to tactically fend off the fiend but as the Saints were divided all over Nua in a time of strife for unification of the powers, Hyperion leading his small platoon of warriors would have to be enough.
The Saints arrive in a secluded area where dead citizens bodies are mangled and distort. Ahead, amidst the bloody mess is the predator. With its back turned as they arrive, it munches off the upper body of one of Malu’s citizens. The sight sends chills to Hyperion and his men. Hyperion gives a hand sign to spread his men out. He only has 10 men under his wing and losing one of them would be panicle in his struggle to unite the Saints. As the area is tight, they can only attack the Ogre in a three man team at a given time. Hyperion draws his sword and sends his right hand man, Martimus, to come at the creature from the left side. His biggest and strongest subordinate, Glock charges head on to distract the creature making a lot of noise. As Ogre’s are prone to confusion, this tactic is effective at providing an opening for a critical strike.
“Come at me you ugly mount of savagery,” Glock shouted.
“I’ll take its leg from its right,” Martimus charged in.
“Smart move Martimus, assist him and go for the other one Thames,” commanded Hyperion.
“It will be done,” Thames replied with confidence though Hyperion noticed his overconfidence.
Hyperion was central to the force that would challenge the titan but as he was the leader of the assault stood back as the support.
Thames rushed in to do as Martimus intended from the right. However, before he can slice the leg joint of the monster, it roars at him randomly. It was an action the men as a whole had not expected. The Ogre is then slashed at its lower left side but isn’t floored as planned. It stumbles forward forced into a crouching position with its injured right leg. Unfortunately, both legs aren’t damaged and one of them is still intact for the creature to relatively maintain itself. Angry at Martimus for the sudden assault, the monster grabs him tightly and crushes his body breaking most of his bones.
“Martimus, no! Men move in. Move In!” shouted Hyperion.
“Darn. I was careless” Thames groaned.
After throwing a broken Martimus aside like a rag doll, two of Hyperion’s other men charge forward to assault the weakened fiend with the rest left to maintain the line. Thames, Glock and the two other officers end up injuring their foe in all directions carefully avoiding its grasp. Suddenly the Ogre starts to pull itself up but is finding it difficult to ascend. It’s more defensive now, more aware of its opponent’s intentions making it more deadly. At that point in time Hyperion feared the outcome of what would occur if it was able to get back on its feet. In agony, Martimus raises his hand at this key moment and shouts with all his remaining might.
“Terrainem!” Martimus shrieked.
The bold move caught everyone including the ogre by surprise. What he ushered loudly was magica. The ground started to rumble just under the fiend. It stumbles and starts falling forward. Hyperion knows what to do; the opening he was waiting for presented itself. He takes a powerful stance applying his full arm strength for a thrust as he charges ahead. He pierces through the neck of the giant deep into its head killing it instantly in its stumble forward. The battle is won, the Saints are victorious. However, they suffer a loss like no other. Hyperion rushes towards his fallen subordinate. Now before him, he could see that Martimus’s life was slipping fast. Hyperion holds his arm.
“As always, you fought valiantly Martimus. And your magica, it really pulled us through this time” Hyperion uttered.
He looked at Martimus’s body. There was no saving him from and impending death, Hyperion could see that he had a short time left.
“I wonder what your going to do without me to save your asses” Martimus stuttered.
He was losing time very quickly and his life was fading away.
“Don’t talk nonsense. Remember you swore to be my right hand for when the Saint’s finally re-unite” Hyperion stuttered.
“Be serious my friend, I can already feel myself slipping.” Martimus replied.
It was over for Martimus, Hyperion and the rest of the men had come to the realisation of his demise ever near.
“One day, they will tell stories of your bravery. And you will be remembered as an example of a true warrior, one determined to keep the people safe.” Hyperion claimed.
“That image is yours my brother. With the defeat of a monster led by your liege you will reunite the Saints once the word is out” said Martimus.
His last words knew the meaning of grace as it was spoken louder by the second before his final utter to death. In that instant, Martimus died before Hyperion anticipating a better future and one where his commander takes charge of the Saints for good.
“No my friend, I promise you this, I will make sure your name is the example set for us all.” Hyperion uttered upon his demise.
One of the Saint Guardsman stood behind Hyperion, a fatter but muscular built man shouted “Martimus Dukata, a magnick hero!”
“He will be remembered” Glock contributed.
“Martimus Dukata!” shouted another fellow Saint Officer.
“Martimus Dukata!” the rest of the Saint Officers shout out.
Hyperion, an adolescent, but a man by law who was raised to never show weakness in character cried that fateful night. The memory of the event that transpired brought out tears in the present. His friend Martimus dreamed of restoring the perfect kingdom ruled by a sovereign of grace. A kingdom with supreme rule that was once so much like in the Golden Era. Now with corruption just round the corner, for Hyperion, going against the King is not a question.