Xander's POV:
It was over.
But it took so much of strength to reach there.
The moment the battle began, my mind tuned off and focused on one thing; cutting down everyone and everything until I reached my uncle. But it was an odd experience. Seeing death everywhere and being so close to its embrace. Not knowing where it would come from.
But all the positive emotions and memories strengthened whatever resolve I had.
I was getting out of here alive.
Hours and what seemed like years passed. The battle began to dim and that was when I met my uncle. He seemed to recognize me, just as I did with him. And we didn't wait a moment before rushing at each other.
I did not remember much but what I did recall was rooted deep in my head.
"You fight just as good as your father did," he threw his sword at mine and I lost balance. "Poor man resorted to reasoning before he died."
Don't react. Stay calm.
"And your mother? You want to know what was the last thing she did, Xander?" he asked, while I lost footing due to unequal terrain.
Don't react.
"She begged for mercy and tried to protect the child in her belly. But after seeing your father's corpse, the poor thing lost her mind."
I failed to remain silent and lunged at him; the exact reaction he wanted. I feigned falling just to hit him right in the shoulder. Just a few moments more...
"You're not half as bad, Xander," the man chuckled, gripping his sword tighter. And then, he pointed it at me. "After I take your head, I'll go for your wife's next."
This time, there was no stopping me. Mistriver dropped from my hands before I pounced on him with no restraint or a plan. He looked shocked and lifted his sword, which sliced at my shoulder but that didn't stop me from trampling him to the ground.
My uncle tried lifting his sword but a shadow came closer and kicked it out of his hand.
"You filthy bastard," Eliot spat in disgust. "Do it, Xander. Beat him to death."
And I nearly did so. Until my fists were covered in blood. All the hits and punches that nearly brought the man under me closer to death.
"You..." he coughed out some blood. "If this is all you got..."
"You thought this was it?" I wiped the blood off of my face. And then smiled. Smiled. "Turns out you don't know me at all."
Six hours.
After six hours and we declared victory, I ordered for a pyre to be built. The material required was brought by the other men who stayed back. Only after it had been done, I dragged the bastard and drenched him in the oil.
He looked helpless and I thrived in it.
His armies were scattered and I sent a unit up there to finish them. Shayne would help them navigate through their camp.
"I'm going to kill you!" my uncle shouted. The poor thing must have lost his mind.
"No," I took the flare from Nathaniel carefully. And I turned to him. "You are going to burn for all your crimes."
He had the decency to stay quiet before I set the pyre on fire. But when the fires started feeding on his skin, that was where the screams began.
It would haunt me forever, with no doubt. But now, he would never hurt my family or anyone else's family again.
When the fires died out, the first drop of rain descended the earth. And then another. I looked up and relished the feeling.
I finally avenged my parents. And my unborn child. And Gillian's father. And everyone who had been harmed by this monster.
He was finally dead.
And a huge relief washed over my senses.
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