Lost Fantasy-Life After Reincarnation (Arc 1)

Chapter 46

The desperate screams of the fallen, echoing off the wall similar to how their pain resonated throughout their body, filled the open battleground. An abundant number of Undead pushed against the living, prying apart their defenses and reaching at their souls. Their lifeless and empty eye sockets, like the deep abyss, stared into the wavering and frightened eyes of the living, scorching their mark into the memories of the living. These are the Undead, former humans that after who knows how long, remains animated, driven by their unknown desire for revenge against the living. No one knows how they came to be about; no one knows how they're formed. What one does know is that the Undead are out to kill whatever is living. That is the case for the adventurers and knights who desperately held off the advancing hordes of Undead soldiers.    

These Skeleton Warriors, wielding rusty but still deadly blades, marched on towards the humans. Whenever one is defeated, two more would rush in and take the former's place. This cycle continued on repeatedly, making this battle between the few living and the majority Undead to be a battle of perseverance. Who could last longer, the Undead that lacked all signs of vitality, or the humans whose vitality is slowly draining?

Amidst the chaotic battle between the living and dead, there was a battle between a beast and two humans. One of these humans was the Flora, the most powerful of all humans that existed in this underground ruins of the ancient city. The other, was Loganel.

Loganel could smell the scent of the crimson roses as the petals spun around where him and Marsha was standing. These bright red flora, tiny and innocent to the vision, burned deeply at its master's enemies. Whenever Loganel would just so happen to brush by one of these petals, a gentle warmth could be felt from the point of impact. This warmth reminded him of the fire burning in the fireplace at his dorm. During the winter times, him and Juliana would usually gather by the fireplace, sitting there and each occupied with their own business. Loganel would usually be sitting on the nearby couch with a novel in hand, and Juliana would be not too far away, knitting something while their cat Mazriel would purr and curl himself up next to Juliana. Occasionally, Loganel's siblings, Laurina and Redgilus, would come over, and the four of them would share each other's company deep into the night when the crackling flame would act as a lullaby and lure them into the dreams.

When the wolf was to close in on Loganel and Marsha, it would always be stopped by the rose petals. Then, unlike what Loganel would experience, the wolf would endure a burning flame that forced it to retreat and roll around on the ground in order to put out any flame that were to have been caught on its fur. However, most of the time, the creature would just jolt back at the unexpected heat with nothing too severe.

Standing beside Marsha, within the protective barrier created by the rose petals, Loganel felt a sense of security that reminded him of his old home at the Ainzloft manor. It reminded him of the days of his youth that he spent sitting in his mother's lap as she would read to him at night.

When was the last time she had done so? Loganel's consciousness started to drift away and into the sea of memories. It was when I was nine I believe... He felt a familiar dread and horror as he realized something: he has forgotten something really important. It is something that defined who he is, but he has allowed it to slip away from his memory. What was it? But he could not recall. Whenever he concentrated hard enough, he would only see brief flashes of memory: a young woman standing over him. The backgrounds of that brief flashback, Loganel was sure that it was of the forest near the Ainzloft manor. However, he could not recall this incident.

"Don't lose your focus now," Marsha whispered to him.

"Sorry." Loganel shook his head so as to clear his mind of the cloudy thoughts, and directed all of his attention to the task at hand.