He found nothing left behind in his wake. Total ruination had claimed the place where once orks thrived. It was the death of a clan, the murder of families, friends, and those who had long memories. As opposed to humans, the orks remembered their history; it meant more to them. They were people who lived short lives but grew to be remembered, even if that memory was an old tale told by great-grandchildren.

  The human stood in all of his destruction. His purpose was not yet met, and so he continued on. The eruption that came from the impact destroyed the grasses, decimated the trees, and quickly faded every small portion of life that dwelt in even the most unsuspecting place.

  As the golden fire had slowly burned out, a lingering energy still had taken hold of the world around it. It was both the holy incineration of fire, and the unstoppable will of the paladin. Such things were made physically manifested by his power.

  As death slowly overtook all things within a half mile of the crater, a certain pile of rubble became dust. The human buried alive beneath it was still buried in his coffin of stone and dust.

  The paladin, so bound by his oath, searched through the decimation and ash. No signs of life remained, yet he could not be sure. His burning will stook the very heat from the air around. His breath came in misty puffs as his boots crushed the small bits of rubble around him. His armor stood out as morning slowly came. Without the trees, the sun shone far stronger where once orks thrived.

  Man, in his nature to become more, takes many things into himself. Some of the environment, some of the society. These things give purpose, they cause oaths to be sworn, and they cause blood to be shed. Even tears, calls of joy, and laughs come from such things. But as the ash slowly fell from Ren’s face, and dawn’s light brought his eyes fluttering, his purpose became clear. He did not shout in joy, nor did he laugh. Neither did he cry out, or weep. A cold and deep sensation came to him, a hollowness. For he knew that his hope had died, and his darkest thoughts came forth.

  To die now fighting an unstoppable force was meaningless. There was time, time to become something terrible, something to wipe away those who wished him dead. Those who erased beauty from the world, those who betrayed him. The body of Cella lay on the ground, it was unmoving.

  Ren knew not if she was dead or alive, but in the hands of the paladin, perhaps she was better off dead. To try to save her, it would kill him. The only choice was to become more than he was, even if it was the folly of men, it was his only choice.

  Ren’s face, above the layer of dust from the disintegrating rock, stared down as the paladin took Cella into his arms. A deep hate flowed through Ren, the desire for retribution floating through his mind. He felt himself back, killing the dragon was luck, something that he could not replicate until far stronger. Men wounded the beast, and he had taken it by surprise. There was nobody to throw themselves at the paladin to wound him for Ren. Neither did he believe even the black fire would kill the man. Ren tried to analyze alongside his eldritch eyes, combining them to attempt a reading of the paladin.

  Crown Sworn Paladin Lvl 83

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  Ren’s heart dropped. The paladin was at a level far beyond him, a degree of power truly unimaginable. Fuck it, this is my purpose, I will kill you, I will get her back. He felt the amber heart in him begin to throb as his bodily functions began to come back to him.

  There was still a deep pain whenever he tried to move anything. Either shifting his leg under the dust or even blinking. A deep-rooted pain came alongside any action. Perhaps it was the damage done to him during the explosion, but more likely it was the holy annihilation of the paladin’s aura.

  For now, his body was still in no condition to flee, so he activated his stealth ability and simply watched as the paladin finished his business.

  The man continued to study the area, but never saw Ren in his place hidden high in a stoneface. It was only minutes before he decided to leave the crater he created. When he moved, it was with a maddening power behind every step. He was not swift, for one of his caliber, but the sense of terrible strength came with his every step.

  Quickly the paladin had moved to head back towards the mountain range. It was then that Ren last saw the paladin last, and what he had stolen from Ren, his only friend in an alien world.

  With the paladin gone, Ren left his stealth ability, he chose to rest for a short time to allow himself to recover. The damage done to him was severe, and a lingering burn, not one of the flesh but something more laid over him. The aura of the paladin had damaged him in a way he did not yet understand. In a way it reminded him of before he had built a resistance to the eldritch touch, when Hollwin had warned him of damaging his own soul. Did the paladin burn souls?

  The concept of such a thing seemed far too vile for the paladin, but what a man could not justify for the sake of his devotion was few and far between. Even Ren had justified many things for the sake of his own life. They said the world would be eaten by an Eldritch God if he lived, yet he did anyway. He had been told that his powers needed to be sealed away, lest they consume him. And yet he had used those powers again and again to preserve himself. So, Ren understood doing something potentially wrong, or even evil for the sake of preserving oneself. His only purpose had been to live. When he knew that his powers may take over him, he vowed to kill even an Eldritch God if need be. Now, there was a purpose. To kill those who had committed these evils. Those who eradicated a society of kind and simple people. To ruin the one who had stolen from him his only companion in an alien world.

  Ren lifted himself from the ashes, his body was yet torn and broken. Shambling as though he was possessed by corpse fungus, he moved deeper into the wilds. His treading did not cease, as the amber gave his broken body the energy to keep going. His determination ignored the pain.

  It was a slow and painful walk, but he came to a small pond where a stream came down from a valley. A large hill and rocky bank stood opposite to the side where the stream met the small pond. Ren sat by the water on the rocky bank. A large stone supported him as he looked into the shallow waters. It was less than forty feet long from stream to rocky bank, and half that in width. He let his legs sink into the cool waters as his mind wandered.

  The first time he met Cella wandered through his mind. The image of the starving tiny woman with raven black hair. Her pale eyes that barely knew light. He had thought her pathetic, a creature of the Underdark. My how he was wrong. She had been strong, and she had been brave. She had saved him time and time again with her healings.

  He thought of her transformation, and how it helped ease the suffering behind her eyes. Her entire people were eradicated by the beastly little abominations deep below. She had wept for them, many times when he slept, a dreamt of faint sobs. In his waking hours, he knew it was her only letting out her tears when she thought nobody would know. Ren regretted not telling her he knew how she wept. He could have tried to ease her pain, but it was far too late for that.

  Looking into the late morning rays of the sun, he squinted. The warmth of the sun, and the coolness of the water. They were pleasant, lovely even. With no idea where to begin, no idea how to gain the strength he needed, for now, all he could do was heal.