Warhamer40k & MonsterGirlQuest: A Double Traitor

"I have come from afar," Amon finally spoke. "From such a distant land that its name will mean nothing to you. But I shall start with it."

Alexandra grunted.

'Why am I even listening to him?' she thought, but she didn't interrupt the warrior.

Amon was a master of his voice. His speech sounded rhythmic and smooth, flowing like a river into the night silence, in harmony with the wind's whispers and the crackle of the fire.

"Once, my land was beautiful and blooming. Now there is only war. Brutal and bloody. Endless. There is no place for compassion or pity. Our enemies are fanatically convinced of their righteousness. They thirst for victory at any cost, ready for any atrocity. There is no crime that has not been committed. There is no horror that my eyes have not seen."

The warrior's words gently enveloped the girl. Images and the vision of a country torn by battles began to form in her mind, intertwining with her own memories.

"The war began millennia ago and has not ceased to this day. Waged by a mighty emperor, whose corpse still sits on a golden throne, it does not stop for a moment. Every day it takes hundreds and thousands of lives, sparing no one—neither children, nor women, nor the elderly."

The girl raised her gaze to Amon's face, illuminated by the unreliable reddish light. Their eyes met, and Alexandra couldn't look away.

"At first, the war served noble goals—to unite fragmented states, to give people knowledge, to pull them from their beastly existence. To establish an era of peace and prosperity. For a while, that's how it was. But soon the emperor betrayed his ideals, and the sky became black with the smoke of funeral pyres."

Forgetting everything else, Alexandra listened mesmerized to the warrior. The firelight reflected in Amon's gray eyes, like the glow of distant fires. Normally alert and distrustful, the mercenary had lost her skepticism.

She never doubted the truth of Amon's words. Only someone who had been through dozens of battles and seen war for what it truly was could speak with such bitter solemnity in their voice.

"The emperor realized that educated people ask questions. They are harder to control, harder to deceive with beautiful words and sermons. Harder to conquer. Smart people make bad subjects and bad slaves. The emperor realized his mistake and cast off his mask of a benevolent ruler. He sent eighteen legions against his own people to destroy those who might pose a threat to his despotism."

Amon's voice filled with sorrow, and Alexandra felt a burning hatred for the distant ruler, willing to do anything for power. How he resembled the kings of her homeland!

"But not all warriors were soulless killers. Some held true to the original ideals for which they fought and spilled blood. Nine legions rebelled, refusing to carry out the terrible order. They challenged the emperor and stormed his palace. Months of battles followed, but eventually, the rebels lost. Their leader died, but before he did, he managed to deliver a mortal blow to the tyrant. The emperor sat upon the golden throne, where he breathed his last. But the war did not end there."

The warrior fell silent and turned his face to the side, gazing into the distance.

"Go on," Alexandra exhaled. She couldn't think of anything but the story Amon was telling. "What happened next?"

"The rebelling warriors retreated and, pursued by the tyrant's loyal dogs, took refuge on the outskirts of the kingdom," Amon continued.

"They thought that with the emperor's death, everything would change. Life would return to normal, and they could go back. The rebels were wrong: it only got worse. The emperor's advisers, rotting as they sat on the throne, declared him a god. The corpse was given daily human sacrifices, sending people to slaughter like cattle. On every square, in every church, sermons were preached about the emperor's divine nature.

And people believed this horrific lie! The rebels had nothing left to do but continue the fight. But this time they were not fighting the tyrant, but his ghost, created from lies and grand speeches. And there is no end to this Long War... Years fly by, generations change, but the battle for freedom continues."

"I," Amon proudly raised his head and looked piercingly at Alexandra, "I am a descendant of those knights who rose against the emperor!"

The mercenary shrank, a shiver of awe and reverence running down her spine. The warrior's inner strength struck Alexandra. At that moment, Amon seemed to her like a hero from ancient legends—powerful, fearless, and unwavering in his struggle for freedom. The campfire crackled and flared for a moment, lighting up Amon's figure, full of grandeur and dignity.

"I knew it," Alexandra whispered, "I knew you were a knight! A real one, not an order knight!"

Indeed! Amon didn't object when she spared the mamono. He protected her from the storm with his body, enduring hours fighting the wind and sand. He took care of her, walking slower than he could. He helped her overcome high sand dunes, never once reproaching her for weakness.

Alexandra had long lost faith in people, constantly facing their petty schemes, cruelty, and mutual hatred. Against her former employers and her past life, even monsters no longer seemed bad. But now hope had illuminated her soul.

The man who took her with him was different—strong, generous, and brave. And it was his trust that she wanted to betray!

Amon seemed not to notice the feelings reflected on her face. He stood up and turned his gaze into the darkness.

"I fight the same war my ancestors fought!" the warrior proclaimed proudly. "And I have never failed their memory!"

"For a long time, my endeavors were accompanied by success," Amon continued excitedly. "On my ship, 'The Bright Truth,' I landed on islands, taking them back from the tyrant's soldiers. People praised the heavens, welcoming liberation from the hated imperial rule! They supplied us with provisions, sometimes sacrificing their last bit for our common cause.

As best as I could, I tried to live up to their hopes, sparing neither myself nor my crew. I trusted every member of the crew, knowing that trust is the shield of the noble! But during a brutal battle with imperial soldiers, I was betrayed."

Alexandra's heart trembled. She hadn't even noticed how her fists clenched in powerless anger at the traitor. Only someone with a black, utterly rotting soul could have made such a treacherous move.

"Most of the warriors died without having a chance to resist," Amon spoke with pain. "I fought the imperial soldiers. For a moment, I even thought I might be able to push them back and save what was left of the crew. But one of the enemies, a sorcerer, hid among the bodies and struck me in the back. Using dark magic, he nearly killed me. Stunned, I fell into the sea, leaving the enemies to revel in victory. They thought I was dead. But help came from where I least expected it."

Amon's face took on a thoughtful expression.

'Too bad it wasn't me...' a strange, silly thought crossed Alexandra's mind.