A strange awe crept into Edgar's heart; a single face stared back at him with the same anger and steadfastness, but this face was repeated thousands of times, hundreds of thousands of human copies before him, all bearing the same broad chin, thick black hair, glowing brown eyes, and that provocative prominent scar on the lips. He swallowed with difficulty, feeling his throat hardening against him as if a stone was pressing down on it.
Suddenly, he heard the sound of heavy footsteps, Crack… crack… crack…, echoing through the mountain and shaking the ground beneath him, as the soldiers slowly made way, moving their massive bodies in terrifying synchrony. Each stood at least two meters tall, their builds huge and solid as rock, muscles tensing under gleaming swords and armor that shone in the bloody sunset light.
The primary copy stepped forward, standing proudly as if challenging the sun itself, holding its sword like warriors from legendary battles. The air around them suddenly stilled, as if time had stalled for a moment, and the sounds of howling and cold winds froze, allowing the warrior's voice to rise:
—What are you doing here, boy? This place is for war, not child's play!
Edgar trembled, his voice slipping out in confusion:
—What war are you talking about?
The warrior smiled with hidden bitterness, gazing at the red horizon:
—The war of regret… You don't know it yet, because you're still at the beginning of your life, boy. Leave, and leave me with myself.
Edgar answered with determination, defying the angry voice:
—No, I won't.
The army moved one step, Crack… crack… crack…, the ground shook under their feet, and the mountain itself trembled, nearly collapsing from the force.
The warrior said sharply:
—What did you say, boy?
Edgar replied with growing confidence, despite his heart trembling:
—Your war is useless, you've already lost, and there's no room for correction.
The warrior moved closer, his sword gleaming in the bloody light, until it touched Edgar's sword, his armor shimmering with the touch of heavy metals:
—And what do you know about loss, you?
Edgar replied with a strange calm, despite his internal shaking:
—Nothing… Perhaps you know more than me, and that's what blinds you, because you've seen the worst, and your eyes have become afraid to see it again… But me, I don't have that.
The warrior looked at the red sky, Fshhh… fshhh… fshhh…, the echo of wind between the mountains:
—Perhaps you're right…
And suddenly, the entire army vanished in a flash of light, Dooom… dooom… dooom…, as if the earth itself had swallowed them, and the towering warrior transformed into a frail old man, his rough voice becoming broken and damaged, like the sound of storm winds in an abandoned pipe:
—You're right… I was wrong… and there's no way to correct it.
The old man fell to the ground, panting and shaking his hands before him, the echo of metal breaking under the force of his fall, and he said in a broken voice:
—I participated in the Crusades… killed everyone in my path… a woman… a child… just because of my arrogance in the power I possessed and my ignorance of humanity… Now it's too late for regret… The blood stained on my hands won't be cleansed except by accepting punishment, not by running from it.
The old man rose slowly, every movement producing the creak of bones and skin: Crack… crack…, then began moving away towards the sunset, his steps leaving a wave of disturbed air and a long shadow.
But the old man didn't leave; instead, he stopped midway and, with a smile, raised his hands to the sky, which suddenly transformed from a bloody sunset to pitch black darkness, while a colossal giant emerged from the hundreds of thousands of warriors, the size of Big Ben, forming [a head,feet,a body,hands,and a massive sword.]
Dooom… dooom… dooom…The giant's footsteps deafened the ears, shaking trees and mountains, as if the entire city trembled under its feet.
As for Edgar, he drew his red sword from its scabbard and began jumping repeatedly in place, Crack… crack… crack…, testing his new ability, each step leaving a mark in the soil, the earth cracking under his power:
—I'll make you understand truly, old man!
Duncan, atop the mountain, retreated in fear, whispering:
—Perhaps this spot isn't good… after all…
As for the controlling mind, it was below—the old man himself—waving his hand forward, directing the giant that approached step by step, Crack… crack…, the sound of footsteps rising, Dooom… dooom…, each step creating a thunderous wave in the cold air.
Edgar, in contrast, stood firm, gripped his sword, and began jumping repeatedly, as if testing the range of his new ability, Fshhh… fshhh… each jump leaving a faint spark in the air:
—Just wait!