the knight of death
It was all black.
Blood. Darkness.
The smell of iron and death filled the air, thick enough to choke a man. The battlefield stretched for miles, yet it felt like a pit with no escape. All hope to find freedom was fading. People who once dreamed of peace now dreamed only of lasting until the next sunrise. But in this war, survival meant killing mercilessly, abandoning every shred of humanity, becoming a devil within your own body and mind.
Fear ruled the battlefield. Fear was the weapon the darkness used better than any blade. Armies from all nations fought side by side, not out of trust, but because they had no choice. Soldiers shouted in a dozen different tongues, but all carried the same desperation in their eyes.
Once, there had been hope. Once, there had been the Lightswords — weapons forged from pure light, strong enough to slice through shadow as if it were paper. A single wielder could change the tide of battle. But those days had turned to dust. The Lightswords were gone, their power scattered. Their master, the Deathly Night Xeudeus, had destroyed everything that could have saved humanity.
Now, the human population was shrinking faster than ever. Villages lay in ruins, fields were burned to ash, and rivers ran red. This was exactly what the Black Death wanted. Known as the Dark Shadow, he sought to regain his true human form — not for redemption, but to conquer the world. His vision was a kingdom of endless pain, an abyss where the sun would never rise again. His goal was simple: kill every last human and replace them with an army of the dead.
The battlefield was a nightmare. The ground was soaked with blood, mud clung to boots like chains, and the cries of the dying were swallowed by the clash of steel. Bodies lay twisted, spears jutting from mouths and eyes. Even those with Lightswords could barely hold their ground, their glow dimming under the crushing wave of darkness.
And then… something shifted.
A deep, metallic rattle echoed through the chaos. Step by step, the sound grew louder until it drowned out the battle cries. Soldiers stopped fighting, turning their heads. Even the dark army froze for a moment.
Through the smoke and fire, a figure emerged. A knight. His armor, blackened by war, caught glints of light. His blade glowed faintly, yet with a promise of power. Every step he took felt like the earth itself moved to make way.
His face was hidden beneath a helmet. Only his glowing black eyes pierced through the shadows. He lifted his sword, pointing it toward the enemy army, then drove it into the ground.
The earth trembled. A burst of burning blue flames erupted from the blade, surging outward like a tidal wave. The first line of the dark soldiers was incinerated instantly, their screams mingling with the roar of the fire.
His name was Norm.
He moved like a storm unleashed. The sword cut through darkness, but when he didn't use it, his fists and kicks shattered enemies like brittle stone. A single punch crushed armor; a single kick sent soldiers flying. He was a wall no one could pass, a rock in a raging sea. The dark army tried to overwhelm him — they couldn't even touch him.
But far away, hidden in the heart of the shadow, someone was watching.
The Dark Shadow.
Rage coiled inside him. This knight was tearing apart the war he had built. His plan — centuries in the making — was being undone in mere moments. No longer willing to watch, the Shadow stepped onto the battlefield for the first time.
Thunder split the sky. The ground cracked as if the world itself feared his presence. Rocks shattered, earth rose in jagged spikes, and from the darkness, a figure emerged — radiating a suffocating, endless power.
"You have shown yourself, Shadow," Norm said, his deep voice cutting through the wind. "Tell me… how many do you plan to kill?"
The Shadow smiled cruelly. Corpses on the ground began to twitch, then rise, puppets to his dark will.
"Indeed, I have," the Shadow said, his voice like a cold wind over a grave. "You cannot stop me. Once I kill you, I will regain my true human form. Then, I will kill your children. Your generations will serve me. I will make them suffer the unimaginable. I will devour the human race and replace them with my army."
Meanwhile…
"Kill them all! I want every soldier dead!" shouted Thoms.
"Where is Norm?" he demanded.
"He's killed half the enemy with one blow, just by unleashing his blade," a soldier answered, still in shock. "Now… he's fighting the Dark Shadow himself."
Before the War…
The night was quiet except for the crackle of the campfire. Norm and Thoms sat in silence for a long while, the glow of the flames dancing in their eyes.
"How do you plan to kill the Shadow Master?" Thoms finally asked.
"I will do it myself," Norm replied. "I don't want anyone else to die if I can defeat him."
"I want you to take your army and deal with the remaining soldiers," Norm added.
"I will," Thoms said, "but remember — even if you defeat him, he will find a way to survive."
"If he regains his human form," Thoms continued, "that will be our chance to kill him for good."
Norm's gaze was fixed on the fire. "Even if we kill him in his human form… what about the kids, the women, the innocent who know nothing of war? They've been slaughtered without mercy. I know he will return, but I believe someone will rise again to stop him."
"You're right," Thoms said. "But sacrifices are required to make stronger choices."
"Sacrifices are made for a reason," Norm said quietly, "not for success or freedom."
Thoms studied him. "And after the war, what then?"
"I will retire," Norm said, "and build a place beyond the mountains — where peace and freedom exist together. For my people. For my family."
"You can't avoid war forever," Thoms warned. "A peaceful place can exist… but not freedom. Killing has been the chain that binds this world for millions of years."
Norm stood, his armor rattling. "Then I will break that chain."
Back to the War…
"He has defeated half of them! Now, we'll finish the rest!" Thoms roared. "Kill them all! I will go to Norm."
"I hear they call you the Knight of Death," the Shadow said, stepping forward. "And that blade of yours — the Death Blade. Its energy is menacing indeed."
"The blade wants you dead," Norm replied, his voice like steel. "That's why it burns like this. Now… I will send you to sleep."
Their blades met with a sound like a lightning strike. Each clash sent shockwaves across the battlefield, knocking soldiers — both friend and foe — to the ground. Norm's strikes chipped away at the Shadow's weapon, sparks and flames flying.
The Shadow fought like a tempest, each swing carrying enough power to shatter boulders. Norm dodged, sidestepped, and countered with precision, his strikes growing faster and heavier. The ground beneath them cracked and cratered, fire and darkness swirling together in the air.
Then came the final blow. Norm's sword slammed into the Shadow's weapon with an earth-shattering crack — and it broke apart.
The Shadow fell to his knees, breathing heavily. Above him stood Norm, eyes glowing with death's light, his sword blazing blue.
"I will kill every last one of you," the Shadow hissed. "When I return, none of you will touch me…"
Norm's blade erupted with light, incinerating the Shadow's body until nothing remained but ash. For the first time in years, sunlight broke through the blackened sky.
Thoms rode up on horseback, grinning. "At least wait for me next time. I wanted to see your fight."
Norm looked over the battlefield, corpses lying in the mud. This could have ended better if I had come alone, he thought.
"Can you handle the rest?" he asked.
"I can," Thoms replied.
Norm whistled, and his horse appeared. Without another word, he mounted and rode toward the distant mountains.
"I hope we meet again, Norm," Thoms called after him.
Beyond the Mountains of Heaven, sunlight poured over rolling hills. The air smelled of flowers and salt from the nearby sea. Norm dismounted, gazing at the land before him.
Here, he would build his dream.
He named it Norm's Valley.
Behind the Mountains of Heaven…
A beautiful place lies by the sea.
The End