It was a desert, scorching heat sending waves of distortion through the air as the world behind them rippled and blurred, surrounded by bodies, lifeless people lying covered in sand and cloth of their own. One man, who still felt he was alive, shook his body and tried to crawl, but a spear struck his chest and sent him to death instantly.
There were dark soldiers, and as the desert grew wider and wider with the wind, more corpses and more swords appeared, displayed in agony. The brutality of the darkness was invading everyone slowly, creeping like a shadow waiting to swallow the land entirely....
Nearly 1470 Years Ago
The desert of black sand, Earth's most destructive and lifeless desert, its scorching sun burning endlessly with no habitants surviving for millions of years. But there were people from a tribe who called themselves the People of Tabah, a place close to the desert. They covered their faces with cloth to fight the heat and sand that tore through the wind like knives.
Rumbling roamed slowly in the desert, people marched with spears and swords, raging with their horses. But the People of Tabah couldn't see who was coming, as a massive sand mountain blocked their view. Only when they climbed it did they see the sight below—green flags waving in the burning air, knights with cracked armor, sand mixing fiercely with the atmosphere. There were at least 3000 men gathered below….
They stopped. They were here for battle. But the People of Tabah already knew this day would come, so their leader and their own army rumbled forward and entered the battlefield. They were at least 2000 men. The scorching heat blazed their rage, the blurriness from the rising heat made the world tremble, and even their voices faded into silence as the two forces stared across the desert….
"Advance!" the leaders shouted, and with that command the horses charged. Both sides rushed forward with no fear, only brutality shown by humans. Their voices shook as they were moments away from striking each other, and then—boom—the clash exploded. Spears, swords, arrows, all killing slowly and taking the souls of one another. Some soldiers beheaded their enemies, some had their fingers sliced off, some had spears driven into eyes and mouths. Some begged for mercy until their tears became blood. The black sand of the desert turned into red mud, soaked with blood. Slowly, the sand began swallowing the bodies, rooting them down, eating them with despair.
A soldier slipped with his friend onto the ground, thinking the man beside him was still alive. But as he rolled him over, he saw a hole through his heart. The soldier jolted back in shock. An enemy came rushing toward him—he crawled desperately and swung his sword, cutting the man's legs off. The enemy screamed with all his might, crawling with his fingers in agony..
"Please… please spare me… I-I will do anyth—" the soldier begged, but he saw nothing in that moment except emptiness. It felt like a cinematic drawing—one man taking his last breath while others fought for their lives. Their swords clashed, dipped in blood, and the ground grew hungrier for more bodies, more death, more despair.
The soldiers under the green flag were quickly dying. Even though they were more in number, it wasn't enough to win. The tribe fought like monsters, not sparing a single one. They destroyed the army like cannibalistic hunters driven by their hunger for killing.
The leader of the green flag army was beheaded, and the remaining soldiers ran from the battlefield. The tribesmen raged and shouted with their swords lifted high into the sky, shouting victory with thunder in their voices. But suddenly their eyes narrowed, sharp like blades. They pulled the cloth from their faces slowly. A knight stood in the distance—his armor completely different from the others, a blade the same color as the black sand on his back. One tribesman whispered to another, "Don't go close… he is the Bugaan."
Bugaan was a name born from fear, a word powerful enough to destroy anything by just being spoken. But the tribe's leader saw the man and scoffed. "This guy? You say he is the Bugaan?" he laughed loudly. "How can he fight us when we are so many men and he is alone…"
Norm's armor rattled heavily in the scorching heat and wind. The blade he carried sent chills down the spine of the earth itself. The blurriness around him made it look like death was walking. Eventually he reached a point close to them and stopped…
"Are you helping the darkness and sheltering it?" Norm asked fearlessly.
The leader walked toward him confidently. "I do," he said, showing his neck and shoulder marked with dark symbols. "We follow the darkness—Xeudeus. He gives us power to fight and conquer, and we don't fear anyone…."
Norm replied calmly, "Simply leave this path, or I will clear this rebel."
"For that," the leader smirked, "you must kill all of us, which you simply can't…." The army laughed loudly, but Norm didn't move. His eyes shined with overwhelming pressure.
"Then I will decide who will… and who will not…" Norm said. He punched the leader in the face, sending him flying back toward his army. The leader was knocked out instantly. The army roared and charged toward Norm. As they approached, he placed his blade forward—and boom—a single strike killed 20 men instantly. Norm drifted with the sand, his speed unmatched. He was killing everyone easily, but still there were about 2000 left.
The soldiers charged again, thinking they could overwhelm him. They didn't know the real power he possessed. Slashes of his blade were engulfed in blood, the stench of death stretching miles across the desert. Corpses piled up in heavy numbers. Three thousand men couldn't defeat the People of Tabah, yet a single man was now defeating two thousand alone. Norm stopped for a moment. At least 1000 stood in front of him, and 500 behind him. He didn't move as they charged again. He stomped his blade into the ground—the black desert rumbled violently. Many soldiers fell to the ground, terrified. The earth split open, swallowing every man whole. Their screams vanished into the sand. The ground closed again, leaving no trace.
Norm's absolute authority and dominance ended the battle, a thrilling slaughter against the men of Tabah.
The desert was covered in corpses, flags dancing with the wind on spears stabbed through men's guts. Norm stood silently. A few survivors remained. Among them was a man with his son, almost the same height as him. "Don't go, son! He will kill you!" the father screamed. The boy looked into his father's eyes. "Let me go, otherwise I will be unworthy to be from this tribe," he said. He charged at Norm—but Norm killed him instantly.
"Son…" the father whispered, seeing his child's body lying in front of him. Norm saw the man and knocked him unconscious as well. The desert looked like a sea, a land full of blood and corpses. Birds flew down to eat the flesh of men, tearing tiny chunks of meat before flying away again, spreading the tale of the feast….