Overwhelming Firepower-Chapter 63: A grave of dreams

The sound of gunfire echoed across the battlefield, mingling with the roar of monsters. The monster wave, the recurring calamity that the North had long held at bay, came as it always did. Yet this time, it was different. This time, the horde had changed.

The monster wave had come, but this time, the monsters felt wrong. As if stitched together from the worst fears of men.

Beasts of different shapes, sizes, and unnatural abilities surged together in one massive tide. Like a malformed hand, it reached out to crush everything in its path.

The knights of Stellhart, the proud shield of Norvaegard, met the wave with steel and fire. Their newly forged arquebuses thundered, sending lead into flesh, while the Thunderspears rained down massive metal balls.

Lines of armored soldiers fired in disciplined volleys, each explosion of gunpowder a heartbeat in the rhythm of war. But not all were present. A second war was happening, one born not of monsters, but of men. It happened so suddenly without any warning.

Several nobles had declared a territorial war against the Iron Duke. Their excuse was law and loyalty to the crown, claiming the Iron Duke was planning a coup.

Everyone knew the truth: it was ambition masked as duty. With the North at its most vulnerable, they struck.

Lucen was leading the fight against the monsters, while his father fought against the nobles.

***

Smoke filled the air, stinging his eyes. Lucen reloaded, his movements automatic. Around him, soldiers screamed, guns cracked, and monsters screeched. A bear-sized creature made of bone and fire barreled through the front lines, ignoring lead and steel.

"Hold the line!"

Lucen shouted, raising his arquebus. He fired straight into the beast’s head, but it didn’t stop. Only when the large metal balls fired from the Thunderspear hit it did the monster collapse.

Despite that huge monster collapsing, no one cheered as there were more, much more. He turned his head and saw Sarah on the ground, lifeless.

One of the few mages of Thornefang, she was there in the beginning, always joking, always so vibrant, and now she was on the ground with nothing. A jagged claw had ripped through her chest.

"Little leader, let’s have a drink later." A memory of her appeared in his mind, and her voice sounded like she was still there.

He turned, gripping his arquebus tightly, just in time to see Greg impaled by a spear-like bone from a monster nearby. The former mercenary’s eyes locked onto Lucen for a second, and then dulled. A second later, he was thrown away like a broken doll.

"NO!"

Lucen couldn’t help but shout as he tossed aside his arquebus, took out the Crimson Lord Mk IV, and created his revolver in the other hand. He charged at the monster that killed Greg and shot its face several times, staggering it, then finishing it off with the sword Crimson Lord Mk IV.

"Little leader, look out!"

Mark’s voice sounded behind, and before he knew it, he was pushed aside. An ice spear created by one of the monsters pierced Mark’s chest.

Lucen couldn’t believe his eyes. He could not understand what happened. Why didn’t his battle instincts activate? Why was he unable to sense the attack? As the confusion was growing, he was brought back by Mark’s dying voice.

"Heh, looks like this is it for me, little leader... I won’t be able to see... That grand dream... Of yours... But, this time I at least... Did not betray.... You..."

Those were the last words Mark said as he died with a smile on his face. Lucen couldn’t take it as he knelt on the ground, unable to understand why even acting adept was not working.

Why were all of his skills that he developed not working properly, as that question came about, somebody shook him.

"Little leader! Come on, we need to retreat!" It was Harlik, ever loyal Harlik, his right-hand man.

"Harlik... Sarah, Greg, Mark, everyone’s dying..." Lucen’s voice sounded so broken, so unsure, so devastated.

"Snap out of it! They may have died, but we are still living! We need to continue for their sakes as well. What happened to the noble brat who told me he would show us a grand dream?! What happened to the noble brat who told us that we can die with swords drawn and our heads held up high?!"

Lucen lifted his head, and his resolve was slowly returning.

"Heh, I like that look in your eyes, little leader. Come on, we need to." There was a sudden sound of something breaking. Harlik’s voice vanished, unable to finish what he wanted to say. His head was gone.

Lucen didn’t even see the monster. One moment, Harlik was shouting at him, voice strong and defiant as per usual. The next, blood sprayed across Lucen’s face, and Harlik’s body slumped forward, headless, collapsing at his feet.

A high-pitched ringing consumed his ears. Everything was moving in slow motion.

Why? Why were none of his skills and traits working properly? His body felt heavy. It was like he was drowning.

’Is this what it means to be a leader? To watch them die one by one while you lived?’

As he was slumped on the ground staring at Harlik’s dead body, somebody suddenly pulled him away. He looked and saw, Robert was pulling his arm, while Sir Thalos, Renz, and Milos were at his rear.

"Hey, you fool! This is no time to be daydreaming!" Robert’s clear voice shook Lucen back from his state.

"... Robert... What should I do?... Everyone, everyone is dying?..." Lucen’s voice sounded so weak, so fragile. Milos and Renz, who were behind him, showed surprised expressions.

"How the f*ck should I know?" Robert’s irritated voice echoed in his ears. "The dead are already dead, and we must continue living, not just for our sake but for them as well."

"He’s right, young master. This is not where your story ends!"

Sir Thalos suddenly shouted, and then he stopped in his tracks, turning around, his aura mantle, which was at the beginning of the fifth layer, burst forth.

"Sir Thalos, what are you doing?!" Lucen shouted.

"Someone needs to stop these foolish monsters while everyone retreats."

"Nononononono, you can’t all of us need to retreat, including you!" Lucen screamed at him.

Sir Thalos smiled at Lucen and then looked at Robert and the others. "Take care of the young master for me."

Robert, Renz, and Milos nodded their heads as they continued to pull Lucen away. Lucen tried to push back, but for some reason, there was no strength in his body to do so.

"No! We need to go back! We can’t leave Sir Thalos there!"

"Enough, you fool! Don’t waste the precious time Sir Thalos and all the others have given us. We need to survive so that their sacrifices won’t be in vain!"

Robert’s voice was shaking, as his hands holding Lucen were trembling. That was when Lucen understood that even they didn’t want to leave Sir Thalos behind. Lucen gritted his teeth and looked at the fading figure of Sir Thalos, it was then he heard his voice loud and clear.

"I am Sir Thalos Stonemaul! A knight of Stellhart, the shield of Norvaegard!"

Lucen saw in the distance Sir Thalos charging at the wave of monsters, and diving in. His figure was slowly being consumed by the wave, as he continued punching and kicking. As they continued to run, Lucen could no longer see the figure of the once mighty knight whose body was a palace of muscle.

***

As Lucen and the group continued running, they met several monsters on the way. One of which had severely wounded Renz.

"I guess this is as far as I go." Renz, with a hole in his stomach, spoke. "It was a fun dream, little leader... But I guess... We all need to wake up... At some point...." Renz then closed his eyes, never to open them again.

Now, only Milos remained of Thornefang, the dream he once shared with many had now become a nightmare he had with one.

"We need to keep going!"

After roasting another monster, Robert shouted at Lucen and Milos, who were in a state of shock from Renz’s death. As Robert pulled Lucen along, they noticed that Milos did not move.

"Didn’t you hear me?! I said we need to keep moving!"

"... Sorry... It seems like I can’t go anymore." Milos showed his bare leg, which had been pierced by something and looked like it was poisoned. It was spreading fast.

"No, no, no!" Lucen shook his head, denying what he was seeing. "You’re not allowed to die, that’s an order!"

Milos looked at the panicking Lucen, his eyes full of pity as he smiled softly.

"... I apologize, my lord.... I don’t think I can follow that order... Heh, you warned me this could happen when I joined you, remember?... Still, I wanted to be part of your story. Please live on my lord, and don’t let our stories end... Like this..." Milos succumbed to the poison and died with his eyes open, looking directly at Lucen.

"It seems that we won’t be able to escape anymore."

Hearing Robert’s words, Lucen looked up and saw that they were already surrounded by monsters. Lucen roared as he and Robert attacked the monsters back to back. Using spells, throwing iron spheres, cutting down with the Crimson Lord Mk IV, and shooting them down with his created revolver.

"Tsk, I never imagined it ending like this. We were supposed to create more things, learn more truths... I haven’t even won a single game of Territory War against you." Robert spoke, his back pressed against Lucen’s back.

"Then we need to survive this, and have another game to see if you improved," Lucen spoke, feeling a little hopeful as he saw the monster wave finally decreasing, but then Robert did not respond.

He could no longer feel Robert’s back pressed against his. Lucen did not want to look behind him as it felt like reality would kick in if he saw whatever was behind him.

Lucen didn’t turn. He couldn’t. Behind him, silence lingered. And silence meant loss. The world was finally still. No more screams. No more gunfire. No more comrades. He stood alone in a grave of dreams.

Then he heard it, a crack. The sound of something breaking. His vision splintered. The world around him looked like it was succumbing to darkness.

***

Lucen gasped as his eyes flew open. His body flung upward, and he looked around him, and he saw his room. No blood. No corpses. Just morning light.

He sat on his bed, hands trembling, as sweat clung to his skin. His heart was pounding like a drum. The sound of people dying and screaming slowly faded from his ears.

"...It was all a nightmare..." Lucen whispered to his self, a sense of relief washed over him, but the pain in his chest refused to leave.

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