Blood coats my blade as a soldier's head slides off his neck.
My eyes are burning…
It hurts to blink.
It hurts more not to.
Either way, the pain doesn't go away.
More and more black lines make a dash for my neck as the stunned soldiers recover from their shock.
Shifting my weight, I push off the ground and slide forward which on itself avoids most of the attacks.
With my sword in hand I slam it against an oncoming spear. They tremble violently from the constant clashing.
How much more of this can I take?
I'm tired.
The air around me is damp with blood and sweat.
Everything seems so much slower than it had been a while ago.
On and on, I push forward.
My blade stands stronger than I currently am.
Despite clashing with others over a hundred times by now, not a single scratch or dent had befallen it.
The pain in my head still roared out as I clenched my eyes shut and rubbed them with my free, left hand.
Ducking down to give my eyes a momentary rest, a spear clips my legs and draws blood.
Once again I open my eyes as a sea of black shoots towards me in more lines and directions than I can comprehend at a single moment.
Losing my balance, I attempt to reposition but my now injured leg refuses to push itself any further.
I catch myself with my spare hand as the warm red liquid from my cut trickles down towards my calf.
As if the sun were shining in my pupils, my eyes hurriedly forced themselves shut.
This isn't good.
I need to move.
Taking a small breath, I push off the crater I'd been stranded in and dive onto a soldier.
My eyes open as a mix of tears and blood leak out of them.
We collide and fall to the floor, his body providing an indirect shield from his comrades.
Both my wrists and my legs beg for rest, but I'm unable to provide them with any as I roll off the soldier and back away towards an empty space in the clearing.
Once again I clench my eyes.
The pain in them is hardly bearable alongside the pain in my head.
I'd only been awake for a few hours at most, and being thrust into a fight of this scale without any warning was the opposite of what I needed.
"FUCKING KILL THE BASTARD!"
How many of them were here?
Why was I even here!?
I don't know these people.
I don't know what they're doing here.
Why is this my problem?
Backing away into a tree forces me to open my eyes and gaze around.
At least 50 people are making their way towards me.
Thinking is barely possible with the amount of pain surging inside me.
The cuts on my body are minor inconveniences at best.
Besides my leg, none of their attacks that had connected would hinder me.
Once again my eyes seem to be screaming for me to close them, but closing them would be the worst idea as of now.
Stepping forward with less speed than before, I slash at a few of the soldiers causing them to step back slightly.
A low groan escapes my throat as my palm quickly rubs my face.
Two spears thrust forward as I step to the side, but a sword follows right after which makes me stumble backwards into the line of trees forming the perimeter of the clearing.
Heaving, I wipe the sweat off my brow and lower my blade to the ground in an attempt to conserve whatever energy I have left.
Another line of black stabs at my chest before the soldier it originates from thrusts his blade forward.
Grabbing at the base of the tree behind me, my body twists to the side.
His sword embedded itself into the bark where I had once stood.
Turning back, I raise my sword once again and slice the soldier's arm clean off before then stabbing the man through his neck.
My chest feels heavy as the tip of my blade cleanly runs in and then out of the man.
He grips the wound with both hands before stumbling backwards.
After a second, he falls to the ground while gasping for air.
Wheezing while glaring around, I notice the number of soldiers standing in front of me seems smaller than before.
Instead of stepping forward, the group of men spread out slowly. Their bodies form half a circle around me in the clearing.
Moments pass as they wait. What they're waiting for exactly, I can't tell.
Without the distraction of fighting, the pain in my head pushes to the front of my mind.
My blade, already pressing against the ground, trembles alongside my arms as I push it deeper into the soil to hold me up.
Continuously, the pain in my head grows to a point where it's the only clear thing in my mind.
There still isn't a reason for me to be here, but for some reason the option of leaving doesn't cross me.
Even breathing hurts now.
Was it fatigue or something else?
I can't tell.
The group of soldiers stand in order, watching me.
Clearly, I was an easy target at the moment, yet none of them attempted to step closer.
Fear?
Their eyes showed no signs of such emotion. If anything, they looked confident.
A grunt echoes behind me, but before I can whip around, a blade penetrates my stomach from behind.
The blade quickly retracts itself out of my back.
It doesn't hurt.
Not as much as my head does at least.
As my grip on my sword weakens, my legs crumble and slam against the soil when I let go.
"A-ahh…"
My throat is dry, so speaking is hard.
"Fucking bastard finally went down…"
"What the hell was he?"
"A general maybe?"
"Maybe…"
Multiple sets of footsteps crunch against the leaves behind me, at least 20 of them.
Their voices are filled with relief.
That's why the soldiers in front of me seemed confident.
I should've expected something like that…
I made a mistake.
My head continues to throb.
Please stop.
Warm blood coats the grass beneath me, destroying its beautiful, natural, color.
My head pounds even harder.
Make it stop.
I grit my teeth, the thought of death never crossing my mind.
All I want is for this pain to stop.
The words of the soldiers standing over me are drowned out by the silent screaming booming inside me.
No longer trembling, my right hand grips at the grass in front of me.
"What the…?"
Both a spear and a sword slam into my hand, halting any progress.
"Should we kill him?"
"Yes, idiot."
"But he might have information. It's better to tie him up."
"Rope won't hold him, I'm surprised my sword went through if anything. When I cut him earlier my blade practically bounced off."
Make it stop…
You want it to stop?
My head hurts…
You can make it stop.
It hurts so much…
"Kill him before he gets up."
My teeth grind against each other as the smell of grass and blood trickles into my nose.
Why am I angry?
That's a dumb question. You're angry because it hurts.
But, why am I angry at them…?
It's their fault. You were brought here because of them.
They're the reason it hurts?
Yes.
I want it to stop…
You know how to make it stop, imbecile.
The wind parts away as a spear lunges for the back of my neck.