His mighty guando sliced through the air with its sharp blade, leaving nothing but devastation on its path. Every monster that stood in Guan Yu's way was reduced to being cleaved apart like mere flies as the elderly warrior continued his advance deeper into the enemy lines.
Row after row, these monsters were cut down by his weapon while his green robes flapped through the breeze that was generated by the force of his swings alone. And yet, it was not enough, as more of the beasts continued charging towards him like a hungry pack of wolves.
He doesn't know what else to think of other than continuing this fight and killing as many of them as possible just to protect others, especially the children that are occupying him in their quest to defeat the dark lord. Guan Yu refused to let these things hurt his fellow companions or anyone else.
Hundreds of them keep surrounding them, no matter if he kills one or more; they are all too numerous, and their numbers keep increasing like a horde of bees. Not to mention, they also possess abnormal strength that rivals his own, making it difficult for him to properly kill them, but because of his years of experience on the battlefield,
They are like soldiers during and after the end of the Han dynasty: mostly unruly, unfocused, undisciplined, untrained, and barely even organized in combat. Like these beasts themselves, they are chaotic and brutal, as they swarmed from all sides with little regard for their own wellbeing and much less care if they were being killed.
His thoughts were too focused on this fight, while his entire weapon and forearms were beginning to be covered by blood from the slaughter. The old general continued to swing his blade without stopping or looking back, not saying another word about his current situation.
Every single one of them growled, bared their teeth, and tried to swing their sharp claws at him, managing to deflect or evade them most of the time. Although some had successfully scratched his body, he was able to avoid being completely sliced apart.
Guan Yu doesn't know what to do now; the thrill of a battle has long been gone after seeing hundreds of them die under his blade. It has been so long since he fought, having retired from war and wanting to live a peaceful life in the countryside.
Only for him to be sent on another adventure, and he is now struggling to stay alive against a horde of these ugly beasts, wanting to taste his flesh and blood. All he needed to do was kill them as a way to focus on the situation at hand. That is all for him.
With every swing of his blade, none screamed in pain; they howled, growled, or roared angrily at the elder general, and every time they swung their clawed hands at him, He always evaded or blocked the attacks by spinning his blade with expertise, not wasting time by allowing himself to be distracted.
His green dragon crescent blade had already sliced through dozens of their bodies, spilling copious amounts of blood across the grassy floor, creating a river of crimson liquid that painted his clothes, hair, beard, and guando with this color.
At one point, he almost lost his mind, focusing so much on this fight that he felt tranquility from the sheer violence of this scene. As if he were meant for this purpose or destiny, to do what he does best: kill his enemies and protect others.
He isn't bloodthirsty or have strong hatred against his enemies, for he felt none; only peace and focus on killing them, as there are neither emotions in his eyes nor his mind. After so many years of war, fighting against an enemy he knows nothing about or understands what they're fighting for makes it meaningless.
Because in the end, war is nothing but horror and tragedy to all who are unfortunate enough to take part in it, whether it is man, beast, or even spirit. All will be subjected to its brutality, as everyone will suffer together or alone without knowing the reason for their existence.
Why does anyone have to suffer through this ordeal? Why must this happen to them? These questions constantly lingered in his mind while he kept cutting down the enemies around him as if they were butter. This isn't about justice, righteousness, or heroism like the stories of his youth; this is about what needs to be done.
The general couldn't help but think of his family and friends who have lost their lives in past wars he had decided to participate in. If only he could change the past and prevent all this from occurring, so that they all could have better lives. But no, such luxury is not his to have.
Yet he wondered what would have happened if this battle had been avoided or prevented altogether by someone. He knew the answer to that question: the innocent people around the world will still be dead, or at least many more of them. He does not want to see that happen again.
So he keeps on fighting to protect others while he finds himself enjoying this moment despite the madness of this situation, his body reacting in a natural response to this insanity while peace within his soul rekindles his spirit for the coming days ahead.
If anything, he wouldn't change this for anything else in the world, and there's no one who is ever going to make him do otherwise. Although he felt fear from within, knowing what awaited him should he lose control and succumb to the darkness,
Fear of himself and his actions, fear of losing everything he has worked for, fear of failing himself, fear of everything, and fear of becoming evil itself He knows that once he does succumb to this darkness, the outcome will be devastating for himself and those he knows.
And yet, he is still here fighting for the good fight because it is right to do so, and nobody is going to stop him from doing that; not even his own fears hold him back from achieving it. There is nothing more important than doing what must be done to achieve it.
He doesn't enjoy killing; he's better than that. In fact, he's only defending himself because that's what needs to be done right now if they want to survive; no one asked him to do this; he would rather keep them safe than allow others to get hurt in their place.
So why does he feel at peace during this moment of insanity? Carnage is everywhere on this battlefield, alone against the army of these monsters, but that doesn't make any sense for him to be content with being in this war and killing these monstrosities for no reason at all.
No, he is not happy with killing them. Guan Yu is simply at peace for once in a very long time; there is no rage within his heart and mind or glory or hatred towards his enemies; it is only serenity in what he is doing. A place he never thought he'd find again.
Guan Yu kept swinging his guando like a madman as he fought with the determination to survive while also feeling satisfied doing so. "There is no choice but to keep fighting," he said to himself while glancing at the horde of these monsters rushing at him with such vigor and power in their numbers.
During his youth, he wanted fame and the title of being called the god of war, a feared or respected warrior across the battlefield that everyone looked up to, but not now, for he is not interested in those things. He knows what is important, and that's protecting others from getting harmed.
Funny to say, but that's his primary goal—to make sure they don't die in vain while fighting these unholy things. It is not about fame or glory anymore; it is only about saving lives and doing good. The only good reason for this is that he cannot afford to let anyone die anymore.
Perhaps he has changed so much during these times, for in the past, he was never this compassionate about the people or himself. He used to be arrogant, violent, bloodthirsty, ambitious and dishonorable during his youthful days. Now, he is a caring and understanding person.
Something to be reminded of as the monsters continued shrieking and screaming across the forest, causing an uproar amongst them, where the battlefield was taken aback by their reactions. Seeing how Guan Yu killed another one of their kin made them more aggressive in attacking the elderly man.
They knew that he was extremely dangerous for their kin and were using as many numbers as possible to overwhelm the warrior and force him into a corner with no way to escape. For them, he is a threat that must be taken out at any cost, and that's exactly what they're planning to do.
He has nowhere to hide or rest; all of them are after him, and there's no time to even take a breather. The monsters are relentless in their pursuit of the general. They kept coming one by one, with each one getting closer than before.
Even with the inflicted scratches all over his body, he still endured the pain and continued slashing away with the guandao while evading any incoming attacks thrown at him. "Just keep fighting," the elderly man said to himself as he continued swinging the weapon.
Each one of them keeps getting decapitated or sliced apart by the weapon, their bodies splattered on the ground before the old general, who wasn't tired at all. He is used to it and is merely focusing on finishing them off without stopping.
This is no time to rest; the battle is still going on, and the number of these monsters doesn't seem to be decreasing in quantity or quality. All of them are stronger than before, and it's getting more difficult for him to kill these beasts with each swing of his guando.
Hours passed by until the sun began to rise from the far horizon, causing the remaining beasts to stop at their tracks in looking at the ascending, beautiful sun, having an immediate effect on them as one of them howled like a wolf before everyone began to retreat back further into the woods.
Allowing this opportunity of peace, he sat down on the dead corpse with the Green Dragon Crescent Blade still in his hand, resting his weary bones after hours of being on his feet. "Good," the old general sighed in relief after having a chance to finally relax. "I need a break."
Blood had covered his entire body and weapon altogether, from head to toe; it is quite horrifying to see him sitting in the midst of a bloodbath with all of the corpses around him. The old general is also sweating and panting heavily from the long fight that he had to endure.
Nonetheless, he immediately felt calm when the calm breeze and birds chirping in the faraway trees were heard. It has been quite awhile since he enjoyed this kind of atmosphere. He looked at the blade, where the blood began to wash away itself slowly.
Revealing a damaged blade from the prolonged fighting, his reflection shows his tired expression of an old man who has experienced so much during the course of his life: "a warrior who fights for the sake of others," he whispered to himself while looking at the orange sky.
"That is what a true warrior should always be, brothers," he told himself with a weak smile before closing his eyes, taking a deep breath, and smelling the fresh air of this beautiful forest. Despite the aftermath of this slaughter, everything around him felt peaceful.
The remembrance of those two he took an oath with will forever be engraved in his memories; their smiles and laughs are what made his life worth living during those days. And he wished that he had died with them rather than surviving the ordeal. "To live is to struggle, and to struggle is to be alive," he quoted to himself, "and that's what we shall do."
