The Pope, Luan Escanor, took in the grim scene with a measured gaze. His expression remained calm, almost serene. He turned away from the impending chaos and walked back toward the grand church building that stood behind the front lines. As he entered the hallowed halls, the sacred quiet of the church contrasted sharply with the turmoil outside, offering a brief moment of peace before the storm.
"Is it done?" Luan asked in his gentle voice.
A man wearing all black suddenly appeared behind him, kneeling down. "Everything is ready, Your Holiness."
"Good. Start everything the moment the tyrant emperor move." When the man in black didn't respond, Luan looked back at him. "Is something the matter?"
The man in black hesitated at first, but still ended up asking, "Is this really the only way, Your Holiness?"
"You know that we can't win this war. It's hard for me to admit this, but we're solely lacking in terms of strength and manpower. Our holy warriors are simply not fit for war. So, yes, this is the only way." Luan smiled gently at the mad in black. "Thank you for everything you've done so far."
The man in black seemed to want to say something more, but he just lowered his head.
Outside, the battlefield erupted into chaos. The clash of swords and the thunder of hooves grew louder, a cacophony of war cries and shouts of pain. Dust and smoke began to obscure the sun, casting a shadow over the combatants as they fought with increasing ferocity.
Soldiers fell, and the ground became slick with blood. Amidst this, Caesar's figure remained visible, a beacon of relentless ambition driving his men forward. The intensity of the battle grew with each passing moment, signaling that the conflict had only just begun.
Caesar slashed the body of an incoming soldier from Evitria. The other's blood splashed on him, but the expression on his face showed just how much he didn't care. As if he had been used to it.
As he kept cutting down enemies, Caesar finally noticed that the Pope was not anywhere on the battlefield. The realization struck him like a bolt, and his eyes narrowed. He turned to his second-in-command, the only general who supported his decision to conquer Evitria.
Caesar's grip tightened on his sword. "Save your sanctimonious words. Your holy land is now nothing but an obstacle to my empire."
Luan stepped closer, unflinching. "Then do what you came here to do, Emperor of ash and carnage. End this charade."
For a moment, Caesar hesitated, taken aback by the Pope's unyielding gaze. But his anger quickly overpowered any doubt. With a fierce roar, he plunged his sword into Luan's chest.
As the blade pierced him, Luan gasped, his eyes widening briefly before settling into a tranquil acceptance. At the same instant, Caesar felt a sharp, burning pain in his stomach. He looked down to see a small dagger lodged in his abdomen, just in the gap below his breastplate. The hilt of the dagger clutched in the Pope's hand.
Shock and confusion filled Caesar's eyes. "You--?"
And at that very moment, the church began to tremble; the walls cracking and debris falling from the ceiling. Explosions erupted around them, consuming the sacred space in fire and destruction. Slowly turning this sanctuary into a hellish inferno.
Through the rising flames and crumbling stone, Luan managed a faint, almost peaceful smile. "You may have killed me, Caesar," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the noise of the explosion. "But in the end, I have won."
As his eyes closed, a single teardrop fell from the corner of his right eye.
In his mind that was slowly fading, images of two boys emerged amidst the rustic charm of a small village. Their laughter echoed joyously through the tranquil surroundings as they played in the meadows, their innocent smiles illuminated by the warm sunlight.
Together, they chased each other through fields of wildflowers, their carefree spirits dancing in harmony with the gentle breeze. Little did they know that their futures would be marred by betrayal and bloodshed, their innocent laughter replaced by the echoes of conflict and war.
The screen began to fade to black. The last image that was seen was that of Luan's serene face amidst the destruction, a stark contrast to Caesar's expression of shock and pain.