The Saviour & the Scourge of Holy Mountain

There has been many reasons to why these mountains are called the Holy Mountain and all of them are true. Kings, Queens and Royal Families were buried in tombs that followed the mountain's pass. These tombs belonging to the rulers of the winter wastelands that now lay before them.

Royals weren't the only people buried here, but religious men too sleep eternally in the Holy Mountains. High Priests, Arch-bishops and even Templar Knights from the first war have their resting place here. Their tombs followed a snaked path up the mountain, with each one having a certain mark on them.

Each tomb would be marks with two emblems. One marking their home town, the other of their religion. Templar Knights were buried with the Templar's Emblem as well, so everytime The Saviour pasted one, he had to stop and pay his respect to the fallen heroes. Davud understood this, these were the original masters of Saviour's profession, the teachers of his way and motivation. Claria on the other hand, saw this as Saviour stalling, believing that he didn't want to go and fight Mih'han so soon.

“Saviour, my love,” Claria spoke loudly over the wind, rushing around the mountains, “Sooner or later, we have to get up this mountain, and face him.” Saviour stopped his praying and looked towards Claria, his hood flapping on one side. She continued, “I know you're scared...” “I'm not scared, Claria.” Saviour responded, stopping her speech. Saviour got himself back up and looked back at the tomb. “Mih'han has all these tombs around him, of heroic people.” He then turned to Claria, “And yet he has not risen them. Why?” Everyone stayed silence.

“Besides,” Saviour continued, “I'm mentally preparing myself, for one of my most difficult fights so far in my life.” Claria looked puzzled, and it didn't help when Davud placed a hand on Saviour's shoulder and nodded. “Sacrifice, must be, made. Protect, your people. Your race.” Davud explained in his emotionless, one tone voice. “If the ancients wishes for me to die here, then so be it. I shall die a hero. I do not fear death.” Claria placed a hand over her mouth in shock of how Saviour had darkened the tone of the conversation.

Davud began heading up the path, Saviour began to follow, but was stopped by Claria. “You don't get it do you?” Claria yelled in a sharp tone. “This is a life and death situation. And you only care about your image.” “I care about my people, Claria!” Saviour yelled back. “And I won't die, because the memories of me will always be alive.”Claria grabbed Saviour at his chest and pushed him up to one of the tomb walls. “And what about your promise?” Claria began questioning, “What about the revenge of my father? What about me?”

Tears began rolling down Claria's face, freezing on the way down. “You might not be scared of your death,” Claria continued, “But I am. I won't let you die! I love you, Saviour. I don't think I'll love anyone else more than you if you was to leave this world. Memories or not.” She began to cry on Saviour's shoulder. New thoughts began running in Saviour's mind. For so long, he has cared only for so many people, without learning their names, their history, nothing. All he ever asked was for his memory to live on. Nor had he ever thought about how much people have sacrificed to help and even save his life.

Davud had sworn his life to Saviour to help him defeat Mih'han, even leaving he former master and creator to his own accord and Claria had been promised revenge for her village, but then fell in love with him and wishes for his love and no one else. If he dies, there would still his memories, but what would become of the lives of, not just his helping hands, but of his friends?

“You're right...” Saviour replied finally, he look at Claria, still crying on his shoulder. “I've been to selfish... I must fix this!” He then whispered into her ear, “I shall succeed, for our love.” before lifting her off his shoulder and running up the path, pass Davud, who got distracted by some vultures flying over head, and found it strange seeing them in the snowy mountains.

Claria ran after Saviour, followed by Davud. The path became narrower as piles of corpses were showing up on the side of the path. Either Saviour had attacked them on the way up or they had been here for some time, it was hard to tell as the bodies were slowly decaying due to the cold weather. They finally caught up to Saviour, but something was distracting him. They both looked in his direction, to see one of the tombs had been broken into.
“Call it a hunch,” Saviour said softly, but loud enough to be heard over the wind, taking his pole-arm off his back, “But I have a feeling Mih'han is in this tomb.” Davud and Claria drew their weapons as well, following behind Saviour as he began walking into the tomb. But, as soon as Saviour entered the tomb, a white-energy barrier closed the doorway between him and the others. “Saviour! It's a trap!” Claria shouted, but Saviour didn't hear her. He hadn't even noticed the barrier behind him until Davud tried to punch it, giving him an electrical shock up his arm. Saviour turned to the utterance. “This is not good.” Saviour said to himself.

“Don't worry,” a familiar voice echoed the tomb, “You'll see them again, when your cold body joins the others in this tomb.” Saviour turned back slowly, seeing a shadowy figure coming out of the darkness. It was time to meet him face to face. Dark Lord Mih'han. His grey skin, bald head, grey and black armour. His left hard was hung in a sling whiles his right arm held onto a two handed mace. “Welcome, to not only the Holy Mountains, Templar, but also to my father's tomb.” Mih'han begin, “In fact, my father lays before you.” he pointed to the slightly opened coffin in between them with his mace.

“You opened your own father's coffin?” Saviour asked, “I had to get this armour some how.” Mih'han responded taking his left hand out of the sling and holding the mace with two hands. Saviour stood in his battle pose, “Do you care to join him?” Saviour taunted him. “Foolish Templar! With your powers, my intelligence and my father's armour, I can rule this land, and crush everyone beneath my feet!.” Mih'han responded. Saviour then jumped over the coffin to attack at Mih'han.

Mih'han dodged Saviour attack, making him crash into the tomb wall. Saviour was not use to fighting in small closed up areas. Mih'han prepared to crush Saviour with his mace, Saviour summoned his shield over him just has Mih'han swung his mace down, the mace hit the shield, bounced back up and flew to the other side of the tomb. Saviour got himself up, now facing Mih'han in a fist fight. Saviour got punched in his stomach several times, it hurt more since Mih'han was wearing armoured gloves. But Saviour managed to break free and send an uppercut to Mih'han chin, which made him fall back into his father's coffin.

Mih'han got up, bleeding from his mouth. He looked at Saviour, Saviour looked back, they breathed heavily at different sides of the tomb. Suddenly, Mih'han began charging his lighting ability, to which Saviour quickly responded with his own. As Mih'han's greyish blue lighting connected with Saviour's yellow holy lighting, a shock wave shot across the tomb, even Claria and Davud could feel it from outside the tomb. The tomb now was beginning to crack open it's stone structure like an egg being tapped on a pan to make fried eggs.

“Your people will betray you, Templar!” Mih'han shouted over the lighting, “They have betrayed us once, and they'll betray you soon! You're a fool to believe otherwise.” Mih'han began pushing down on his side of lighting, adding pressure to Saviour. He felt his arms getting weak, but he only had two options, push back the lighting or grab his throwing knifes. “Killing me won't stop them. And in the end, you'll be just a memory to them all.” Mih'han continued.

“You're... wrong!” Saviour responded, “The people have changed, I have changed,” he readied himself for his next move, “I am more than a memory. I, AM, THE SAVIOUR!” Saviour jumped away from the lighting. The white-energy barrier blocking the entrance way the tomb grew whiter, before a flash shot from the tomb, blinding Davud and Claria for a moment. When the two was able to see again, they saw that the barrier had been dropped.

They both ran into the tomb, only to see stone and snow fallen in. The coffin in the center of the tomb was smashed with a greyed man lying on top of a older corpse. Davud examined the body, he turned the head to see three throwing knifes, one in his neck, another in his forehead and a final one in his left eye. Mih'han had fallen, but where was Saviour? Claria looked around, Saviour was no where to be seen. His weapons lay on the floor but nothing else of his was there, just snow and stone. Claria dropped to the floor and cried.

She was worried and scared. Where was Saviour? Is he still alive? What will happen to the world without him? Davud picked her up, they looked at each other, Davud said nothing but hugged Claria. They began to leave the tomb, taking Saviour's weapons with them. They reach the entrance again, Claria paused for a moment. She didn't want to believe her loved one was dead. Until she heard stone fall off a pile of snow in the tomb.

They looked back inside to see the stone still rolling down the snow pile in the back left corner of the tomb. Claria ran back in and began digging through the snow, Davud then followed her action, moving the stones out of the pile. Claria's hands began getting cold quickly, she started doubted a little that Saviour was in this snow pile, until she felt a hand.
“SAVIOUR!” She shouted as she grabbed his hand and tired to pull him out. Davud grabbed his arm and with one pull, brought Saviour out of the snow, coughing and gasping for air.

“You're still alive! I thought you had disappeared forever!” Claria stated as she held Saviour, warming him up. “It's... It's not finished...” Saviour responded, “Not yet...” He got himself up and dusted himself off, “We have to find the aura.” Saviour then said, whiles putting his ear next to the walls. As he came to the back wall, he began hearing a humming in the wall.

“Davud, grab that mace.” Saviour asked Davud whiles pointing to Mih'han's mace. Davud picked it up and walked towards Saviour. Saviour pointed to a spot on the wall and stood back. Davud struck at it, making a large hole revealing a tablet on the back on the wall. The letters looked demonic and glowed a cyanic blue, pulsing ever five seconds. “Mih'han was never the source,” Saviour began explaining, “He said killing him wouldn't end it. And an aura that could spread across the world could not be made by a man. This is the aura.” Claria seemed puzzled, “So are you saying this stone is using the mountains as a beacon?” She asked, “Exactly!” Saviour answered.

Davud readied himself for another swing but Saviour stopped him. “Simply smashing it will not work, my friend.” Saviour stated as he took the mace off Davud. He then began to charge it with his holy powers. Then, swung the mace at the tablet. As soon as the mace hit the tablet, it gave it's last pulse, and another shock wave spread across the world, turning all the scourge in ever jungle, desert, town and city into fine dust. Even Dark Lord Mih'han's body crumbled before the trio, even the mace in Saviour's hands.

Saviour walked over to Claria and sat sit to her. He took out a flask and took a drink from it before looking at Claria. He smiled at her and said “It is over, your father, and your village have been avenged.” She smiled back and hugged him, giving him small kisses on his cheek. “What, now?” asked Davud as he handed Saviour's weapons over to him. Saviour got himself up and replied “Home.” Saviour to walk out of the tomb, “But Saviour,” Claria stopped him, “What about us? We don't have homes, or at least not anymore.” Saviour looked back at his friends. “Unless I arrange something in Galeran.” He responded. And with that, the trio began their journey back to Galeran. It would be a first for both Claria and Davud, but for Saviour, it will be a welcome home.

Hours passed, and the trio had made it back to the abandoned village where they battled with Valentine and her small scourge squad. But they noticed a strange figure in the distance, dragging something. Someone must be grave-robbed the body of Valentine. They chased after the figure, Davud diving on top of the person, discovering it to be Archmage Salmir.

“Salmir? What are you doing here?” Saviour questioned him. Salmir got himself up and dusted himself off before replying. “I was collecting my sister's body.” Salmir looked at Valentine's body, “Even though she went evil, she's still my sister. She needs to be buried properly.” Saviour and Claria nodded. Salmir then looked at Saviour and smiled at him. “But, that's not the big news.” he walked up to Saviour and shock his hand. “You finished off the scourge invasion.”

“Yeah... How did you tell?” Claria replied for Saviour. “Well two reasons, Jungle Elf.” Salmir responded, looking down at her. “Firstly, you've coming back from the mountains.” He pointed back to the mountains, Claria blushed embarrassingly. “And secondly,” Salmir continued, “Some of the scourge had entered my tower again, but turned to dust after a blue wave of energy.” “The aura's final pulse.” Saviour stated. Salmir just smiled.

“So I guess you're heading back to Galeran then?” Salmir then asked. “Saviour nodded. “All three of us.” Salmir grinned as he walked a bit away, “I've always wanted to try this out.” He stated as he began some sort of enchantment, opening a hole in the air. When they looked through the hole, they saw a city in the distance. “Galeran!” Saviour said with happiness. “Just step through it and you'll be home.” Salmir stated. And with that, the trio said goodbye to Archmage Salmir for the last time and stepped through.

From there, the three of them heading to Galeran with pride upon them. The Saviour was greeted with the city people cheering his name, but scared at Davud and confused at Claria walking next to him. Seven days later, Saviour had visited the King of Galeran with Davud and Claria, whiles also arranging living accommodations for himself and his friends and showing them the city limits in his spare times.

In celebration, the king held a royal feast for the return of their city's hero. His highness began his speech, talking about how he knew Mih'han from the First War, while Saviour and Davud waited outside the hall for Claria and for their cue to enter. Davud felt uncomfortable wearing the tight clothes. Saviour was still in robes, but a cleaner set and did not wield his weapons. “Clothes, not like.” Davud stated honestly. “I'm sorry, my friend,” Saviour responded, “But it was the largest size they had in a short time.” Davud sighed heavily before ripping the selves off.

Claria appeared at the top of the stairs, “Sorry guys, I was having trouble with these shoes.” she said as both Davud and Saviour turn to see her. Saviour was amazed. Claria walked down the stairs with her hair tied up in a large bun, wearing a sea green dress that covered her legs and hugged her body perfectly and a pair of black ballet shoes. “How do I look?” Claria asked when she appeared at the bottom of the stairs.

“Nice.” replied Davud. “Like a painting.” Saviour responded has he took hold of her hand. “You really like it?” she asked getting closer to him, “I thought it looked over the top.” Saviour stuck his head, “No no, you look the part. But something is missing...” Saviour responded, looking at her, thinking what was wrong. He then flicked his fingers and took out the necklace that Archmage Salmir had sent. He took it off himself and attached it to Claria.

“There. Now your outfit is complete.” Saviour whispered into her ear. Claria smiled and kissed him on the cheek. A guard then appeared behind Davud, “It is almost time for you to enter.” the guard stated. The trio nodded and made their way inside, to which, they were claimed heroes of the land and will be known eternally. Until another phoenix flew into the hall. The bird was carrying a letter this time, not an orb. On opening the letter, it stated that the Hell-spike had opened. Everyone turned to where the trio were sitting, or at least where they were sat. They had already left to embark on a new adventure.