TALMAN TALES - NEW WORLD ORDER

  Chapter 8 – Coincidences Happen

  “Look, friends! Over there is the old farmhouse of the Bi-Shi-Zu family!” I got carried away by my dreams and hopes and failed to notice that Goatabi was standing right in front of me. Before I could wake up from my own head again, I heard Aurelia scream. “DON’T DO IT.” I found myself in a situation where Goatabi attacked me. He had a tight grip on me, he rubbed my head and yelled around like a madman. In the end, Sensei whistled him back. He apologized for the behavior of his new student, Goatabi.

  Still, he had something else in his sights: Karli and the Chatterboxes—the goblin gang that was following us. I’ve never seen the Sensei like this. He took a running start and, completely out of his mind, shouted: “I HATE GOBLINS!” Then he landed a massive Bi-Shi-Zu Special on the leader, Karli. He also wanted to show us a new technique: the so-called “il Bombo.” For that, he picked a higher spot, did exactly three somersaults in the air, and used the gathered energy. With it, he could simply knock a whole group unconscious. After he dealt with the goblins, he brought them to his house and locked them in an old barn on the property.

  “I’m infinitely glad to see you,” he said as he looked deep into my eyes. “Zeki, I’m unbelievably proud of you. The last time I saw you, you had just celebrated your 12th birthday. You’ve become an adult.” His voice was calm, almost gentle. Then his gaze shifted to Aurelia. “Aurelia, you too have gained a lot of strength. Your determined look didn’t escape me either. You can be incredibly proud of yourself.” The two of us were moved to tears. The Sensei had hardly changed—only on the outside, a few things were different: he no longer wore his blue robe, but a black-and-white striped outfit. And he was missing a hand.

  I only found out later that he had lost it in a fight against a giant spider with elephant trunks for legs. But that didn’t stop him from taking care of his now-ill wife, Li-Sa. She had contracted the Zirbiss-Syndrom—the disease Artemis also suffered from. Our master knew that sooner or later he would have to kill her, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He had been married to this woman for fifty years. Now fate reached out and took what it wanted—Li-Sa was torn from his life. He faced a decision no one should ever be forced to make: either he bowed to his fate and sent Li-Sa to her final rest, or he waited to be murdered by her in his sleep. A decision no human being should have to face—especially not the man who once took me in and trained me.

  Li-Sa had been hit the hardest. All her life, she blamed herself for her husband’s suffering. Even though she knew he had never held anything against her, the incident with Artemis left deep wounds in her heart. And now she was supposed to be the one to put her beloved before a decision that makes any other feel like child’s play—without any power to change anything about it.

  We had suffered so many blows of fate by now—this couldn’t have been a coincidence. Something evil was going on. The Sensei shared that opinion as well. He lived a bit away from the capital, but even so he didn’t miss what was brewing. I called Neo over to us to advise with him about the next steps. What we knew at that point? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

  We all had a strange feeling. First Stahlhaart. Then Aurelia’s home village—the Schattental. Then Mr. Rosenberg. And now even the Bi-Shi-Zu family. None of this could be a coincidence. But we had no idea who or what was attacking us, how many of them there were, what their goals were, or why they had targeted us. We were feeling our way through the dark, as if someone had blindfolded us. And yet we knew: something was waiting for us. Something big. Something that had already begun.

  We had to take measures early and prepare accordingly. Neo suggested involving our followers. “No, I’m not dragging even more innocents into this,” I said with a serious expression. “But Zeki… that’s our only chance to make a difference,” Neo replied. Then the Sensei spoke up as well. His voice was calm, but firm: “I understand both sides. Still, I’m in favor of recruiting every ally we can get. I have a feeling this will all come to an end. But only one side will win. We have to prepare for something bigger.”

  I suspected what he wanted to say—and he would be right. A great war was ahead. Maybe even our last. We had to mobilize everything we had and brace ourselves for the worst. And there was nowhere better to do that than with Bi-Shi-Zu, our former mentor.

  “Call all your friends. I’ll train them too. We have to arm the population—convince them of our goals.” I didn’t want to do it, but I rubbed at the quill. While I waited for him, I thought about how I had to choose my words to justify what I was doing. I asked Pablo for help once again—even though the last war had visibly scarred him. I needed his strength. I wasn’t proud of it, but hard times require hard measures.

  After five hours of waiting, Pablo finally showed up—with a new outfit. He had had the typical golden fists made, the kind Stahlhaart used to wear, and now he used them as a new weapon. “Friend Zeki, you called Pablo?” — “That’s right, Pablo.” Before I could say anything, I burst into tears and fell into his arms. He hugged me—this time gently and loosely, without almost crushing me. “You need Pablo’s help, right, Friend Zeki?” I was ashamed to put all of this on him. I explained our situation to him—what we knew, what we suspected. If someone had been able to leave the capital like that, then they had to be powerful enemies.

  “Pablo doesn’t really know. He’s sorry for Friend Zeki… but he doesn’t want to fight anymore.” I had expected it. My conscience screamed at me to stop. But I couldn’t do without his power. I knew it was wrong—but I still tried to convince him.

  “Friend Zeki…” He couldn’t get another word out; he just stared into the air. He surely had the scenes from the war against the Mushkaren in his head. He collapsed to the ground, started crying uncontrollably, and then he fell into a panic attack. He crouched on the floor, trembling all over. I tried to calm him down—unsuccessfully. Pablo began to scream: “WHEN WILL THESE HEADACHES STOP, HELP ME, HELP ME!” That was the first time Pablo spoke of himself in the first person.

  I was completely overwhelmed and got the idea to prepare him a pipeful of Ibo. I don’t know why I did exactly that, but it worked immediately. Pablo seemed calmer and more relaxed, and I could start a small conversation with him. “I’m so sorry, my friend. I knew I couldn’t burden you any further. I’m deeply ashamed.” — “Friend Zeki, I know your position and I understand it. But you also have to understand Pablo’s situation.” I had brought unimaginable suffering onto Pablo. I could only guess what dimensions that had for him. And I still asked. I am a monster. How could I do something like that to Pablo?

  “I understand you, my friend. I can’t apologize to you often enough, Pablo.” He said he appreciated that. I gave him the rest of our Ibo to take with him—for his headaches. After that he was gone. He left nothing but emptiness in me. I couldn’t afford a defeat, but I also didn’t want to put something like that on any of my friends. Losing Pablo was probably best for him—even if it hurts.

  So we began training with the Sensei. It consisted of five stages. We didn’t know that this training would last two and a half years—time we didn’t have. We expected the attack every single day. During that time, I definitely developed a mental illness, I think. The strain was enormous. I could barely tell truth from lie anymore. I didn’t know even a little bit who was friend and who was enemy. All I had left now was the everyday terror we all had to live with.

  The first part of the second training began, and Bi-Shi-Zu seemed stronger than ever. He too gave the impression that he had visibly improved. In the six years we hadn’t seen each other, he had gathered new experiences, techniques, and abilities—and on the side, he had even taken in new students into his ranks. We were allowed to welcome Goatabi, as well as Friesnhorn. Two completely different characters who were introduced to us. You already know Goatabi. But Friesnhorn… that was a creature all on its own.

  A giant. Six meters tall. A threatening appearance. He wore a completely bizarre hairstyle and a white mask that fully covered his face. At first glance he might have looked tough, but in truth he was the kindest and most polite guy I had met up to that point. The Sensei was very proud to present his old students to the next generation, and you could clearly tell. He kept looking proudly at me and Aurelia. Seeing him so happy again after what had certainly been a very hard time brought me joy.

  Fuck the old bastard. He’ll probably die soon anyway. You asshole. I had peace for so long—WHY NOW, WHY? WHAT DO YOU WANT? TELL ME ALREADY. STOP HAUNTING ME. DISAPPEAR. GET LOST. I CAN’T DO THIS ANYMORE.

  ...

  I’m sorry, friends.

  But I need a break.

  For the sake of my health, I won’t be working on the book for a long time.

  Chapter 8.5 – What on earth is happening here?

  A year has passed by now; Zeki is 24 years old. I will tell you a lot now so you still get your reading material. Zeki, hopefully you do as well—I want to help you.

  About me as a person? You need to know that I’ve been watching Zeki for a long time. At the same time, I’m watching the rest of the group. Let’s best start back at the moment Zeki entered my field of view. It was his 12th birthday; he had just completed the training with Bi-Shi-Zu and set out into the wide world.

  So I am neither Gotti-Gottfried, nor that other guy who’s constantly with him.

  I’m the one who forces him to reveal his casino losses.

  Call me Luma, the All-Knowing.

  Back then, Zeki was an ambitious young man with big dreams and hopes. But he, too, was only a slave of this world. Outwardly, he didn’t show anything—he had to play the strong leader. That role was more or less forced onto him. Yet deep inside, he is still vulnerable. The trauma he had to endure left him with nothing but scars.

  Actually, his fate could be irrelevant to me. But through him, I come to life.

  In his story, I awaken.

  My consciousness consists only of myself—no one else.

  In this situation, I feel comfortable. Finally, I can leave behind proof of my existence.

  That is also the reason for my challenging efforts to keep this book alive.

  This one year was horror for me. I wanted to live, to matter, to be seen. But Zeki left me hanging and destroyed my existence.

  So I find myself forced to reveal these chapters to you.

  The time from his 13th birthday up to his 14th was a period full of surprising moments and twists. Neo joined the group.

  I have a few stories about Neo.

  One, however, is more worth telling than all the others:

  What really happened to his mother, Roselia.

  It was on the day you have already learned about in this story—exactly the one on which everything could have been over.

  But on that day, a decision was made.

  Neo didn’t know it, but fate placed him before a choice.

  I knew that this day would come—

  but I couldn’t prevent it.

  His path was decided. Because of his thoughts during the return trip to his mother—what it might be like to travel with Zeki and Aurelia—his mother’s fate was sealed. Because of that simple thought, his mother was kidnapped, and he was condemned to one day face his mother again. But only he himself could determine the outcome of this story. Someone is dealing this boy a brutal hand, for whatever reason. In any case, his mother was kidnapped by the very ones who threatened his house. Whenever fate puts someone before a decision, nothing good usually comes of it.

  Let’s rummage further in the past—namely with Aurelia. She, too, stood before a decision. Let me start at the beginning first. It was the year 1347 after the great war of the Schattenreich; Aurelia had just celebrated her 10th birthday—a day that should be forgotten forever. No Zeki, no Bi-Shi-Zu—no one ever heard a word from her about that day. She concealed it skillfully, because she knew: this was her deepest wound, the one she carried with her. But I am here, and I will reveal the truth about her. She cannot hide.

  For two weeks she had been counting the days, barely able to wait. Then, finally, March 13 arrived—her birthday. Everything went the same as always, only one new discovery made her parents freeze. She was visibly happy; her parents were recognized service providers—together with their 30 employees they offered everything from garden care to packing services. Accordingly, they had no financial worries. And the naturally cheerful character of her parents rubbed off on her. The day was meant to become the most beautiful of her life—or the worst. The decision lay with her. Fate had once again placed someone before a choice.

  She wandered through the flower-covered meadows and fields of her home village when she suddenly discovered a strange deep-violet flower—one she had never seen before. It was her destiny; she had to find it. This was the moment she discovered her magical abilities. You might think: a beautiful discovery—but at that exact time, her tragic path was sealed. Her parents worked long and hard for their wonderful life. She understood their situation, even if her greatest wish was to spend a little more time with her parents. Still, she made the best of it. Wrapped in happiness, she could spend the whole day drifting through the fields and forget her loneliness.

  I don’t know—but maybe her greatest wish wasn’t that one, but friends who played with her in the flower meadow. Surely she wished not to be so lonely anymore. Fate granted that wish—in its own cruel way.

  Later that day, when work ended and at least a few hours were left for their daughter, the disaster happened. Aurelia sat at the table and lit the candles on her cake with the help of her magic—a fatal mistake. Her parents couldn’t believe it. They immediately burst into tears. She didn’t know why, but her father knew: he had only one option. In the living room, a lake formed from her parents’ tears—right in the middle of it, a small Aurelia who had no idea what was happening.

  The only people she had ever built a bond with were forced to betray her. The leader of this small village, Iojogan, despised magic. The citizens did the same. They wanted nothing to do with magic—so the fact that his daughter possessed magical abilities was a death sentence for Aurelia’s father. It wasn’t supposed to go that far. They tried to convince Aurelia to turn herself in to prevent something worse. But her understanding, too, was nearing its end. The conversation turned into a fierce argument—an argument that went so far that she lost all control over her magic.

  No one knew her like this. Her skin turned grayish; her beautiful violet hair began to burn and go up in flames. Her presence became pure horror. Her parents tried to flee in vain, but when she finished her incoherent words with a deafening scream, the unbelievable happened: she rose high into the air, locked onto her horrified parents who ran desperately for their lives. But this monster, born of loneliness, left behind nothing but destruction.

  Her parents were dragged into the sky along with Aurelia. She destroyed and disfigured their bodies. Every single bone in them was broken. They could no longer be recognized. The last thing the innocent villagers could perceive before Aurelia fled was a rain of blood, intestines, and body parts of her completely shredded parents.

  Again and again, fate seized what it desired most:

  Suffering. Hate. Annihilation.

  I have seen many worlds. Perceived absurd realities.

  But never in my entire existence have I had to witness such abomination.

  The mage who wanted nothing more than friends.

  The one who always stood up for her relationships and never let anything show.

  Exactly she had a horrific lie to hide.

  I didn’t want to, but I kept digging into her past. I followed her escape step by step. In one place, however, I myself was surprised.

  This little beast almost murdered me.

  As I said: I followed her to learn more about her—in the belief that no one could perceive my presence, neither see me nor feel me. But she could perceive me. As I dug deeper into her past, out of nowhere she stopped in the middle of the road. She turned to me and stared straight into my eyes.

  She pulled me to her—

  and snuffed out my life.

  As if swapping roles, with the words:

  “So, there are two options for you. Either you stay out of my past, or you will suffer torments you can’t even imagine.”

  she gave me a clear warning.

  But how could she pinpoint me? How did she know my location? I don’t understand this beast. She managed to make an untouchable being like me feel fear.

  Message received.

  I will tell you nothing more about Aurelia—for the sake of my existence.

  She had me completely under her control. Accordingly, we continue with someone who didn’t want to erase my existence.

  Sensei Bi-Shi-Zu also had quite a bit buried in the past.

  This story is about his journey into the Schattenreich. He certainly didn’t have it easy. He spent his childhood in a distant realm. That realm was plagued by war—an eternal conflict forced the young Do-Mi to improve his martial skills. He met Albo, a general scarred by battle. Albo opened his own fighting school to strengthen the next generation. Do-Mi liked attending the school very much, even if the general’s methods resembled torture. But his dream of leading his homeland into new splendor was greater than this training. He swore to fight for happiness and peace.

  But it was not meant to be. His trainer and the other students did not fight for his conviction. They were preparing for a dark period in history. Only the strong were meant to survive. It was common knowledge that Albo was raising his own army to plunge Do-Mi’s homeland into ruin. He couldn’t allow that—he wanted to enforce his values at any price. He was bred into the most feared child in his trainer’s army. His plans began to blur; Albo’s daily brainwashing made him forget what he was actually fighting for. He endured countless battles under the rule of evil.

  Then fate once again reeked of blood and placed him before a choice. He broke out of his shackles and wiped out the entire army. His friends, his comrades, companions of many years—one after another had to bow to the steel fist of justice. He knew he couldn’t go on like this. A decision had been made, and his path sealed. He could erase his entire fighting school—everyone except Albo. The student confronted his master.

  “I knew the day would come. Why didn’t you decide differently, Do-Mi?”

  Then the spectacle began, but Do-Mi never truly had a chance from the very start. His only hope was his trainer’s mercy. Luckily for him, Albo still had something left for him.

  “I’m giving you two options now: Either you choose the path of shame and scurry off like a little mouse—or you face me with all your strength and fight for your goals.”

  He chose the path of shame. He fled the scene. Mocked and cast out by Albo, his inner conflict only grew stronger. He blamed himself endlessly. But his path was chosen—he had to walk it. There was no turning back.

  Let’s move on to Pablo. He, too, was placed before a decision. On the day he met Zeki and the group at the bridge, he had argued with his family. You need to know: Pablo suffered greatly because of his illness. The gene mutation triggered many things—but certainly not the normal life he wished for. From the beginning, he was destined for something greater. Born as the leader of his kind, he had to overcome many hurdles—whether it was standing up to enemies and attackers, or longing for a simple life.

  His parents abandoned him. He was always on his own. All of this led him to the realization that he was trapped in loneliness. Yet he desperately wanted to be seen—by those who wanted to see him. Outwardly, he seemed like a tough guy. But deep inside, he was hurt and broken. No one—absolutely no one—wanted anything to do with him.

  Then one day, things changed. He met Xareni, an outcast goose mother with her son. Even though it wasn’t his own son, he loved him like a father. His happiness was clearly tangible. At last, the big Pablo had everything he had ever desired: a place to stay, a safe life, and a loving family.

  But the day of change came. His wife caught him with another goose lady. He couldn’t talk his way out of that situation anymore. Even though he only wanted to help the lady—because she was injured—Xareni drew her conclusions.

  “You unemployed bum, never show your face here again.”

  Those were the last words Pablo heard from her before he lost everything he had ever had. A simple decision—helping a person in need—led to the loss of his beloved. This was the abyss for Pablo. His psyche carried deep wounds from it. Pablo didn’t understand much about love—but he understood that he could buy it, if only he had enough money.

  So a thought came to him: to earn Olevs in excess. The first place he went was to an old acquaintance—the orangutan with his heavenly herbs. With his last money, he bought two packs of Waldmonster and tried to sell them at the bridge. But nobody wanted to buy anything from Pablo. Everyone looked him in the eyes with contempt.

  The situation didn’t improve—and he became his own best customer. The hours passed, and he smoked pipe after pipe. Less and less Waldmonster remained in his possession. He lost everything that day. The small, fragile goose burrowed into grief and pain. Waldmonster was the only thing that could help him.

  Quickly, his tactic changed. He no longer tried to sell his goods. He intimidated everyone who wanted to cross the bridge. Most were afraid of him—and he used that to his advantage. But there were also those who resisted. That very group of villains Pablo later beat up along with the group. However, he kept quiet about the fact that those men had brutally attacked him beforehand. Certainly with good reasons, he held back that information. He didn’t want to appear weak in front of Zeki and the group. He had to present his strength—and to prove it, he quickly and without hesitation made short work of the troublemakers from before.

  Pablo’s fate also placed him before a choice. His decision led—just like with Aurelia, Neo, or Bi-Shi-Zu—to an encounter with Herr Talman. Every one of these blows of fate was connected to Zeki in a strange way. Each of these stories had two possible outcomes. But in the end, it was always Talman—and against Zeki—that was chosen. No one could shake it. Neither the terrifying Aurelia, nor Pablo—the warrior so strong, yet still broken—had any idea that their path would be sealed forever because of a simple, tiny decision.

  All roads led to the king.

  And while we’re talking about that: of course Boris, too, suffered the torment of choice.

  Let me tell you the story he could only hint at.

  As Boris already hinted during his journey with Aurelia, he had already made the acquaintance of the Mushkaren...

  In the year 1347 n. gKS., while Zeki was still hanging around on the streets, Boris de Graaf celebrated his 15th birthday. But the mood was not cheerful. A war that would claim many victims stood at the doors of his realm. His father, Albert de Graaf, had been equipped with the holy axes of the Abrofarner and thus had been appointed king.

  The inhabitants of the kingdom cultivated a tradition behind which a legend was hidden. Among their ranks, there was said to have been a magical blacksmith. People told stories that the blacksmith Kunz could forge the strongest weapons in the entire Schattenreich. His skills were highly respected, yet he proved loyal: he forged his weapons only for the kingdom of Abrofar. They said whoever possessed one of the three holy weapons should rule the kingdom. However, the records of the other two forged instruments of war blurred over the years. The blacksmith named his first creation “Adam und Eva.” For over 30 years now, King Albert had possessed these blades. They granted him immense strength, which—when the time was ripe—was to be passed on to Boris.

  But the war did not wait. The Mushkaren were cunning creatures. They launched a surprise attack on the kingdom. The attack struck at the very heart of the Abrofarner. But they did not let themselves be crushed. They fought with every means to defend themselves against these beasts. They actually managed to withstand the beasts’ siege for months. But this would soon come to an end. The Mushkaren resorted to increasingly radical measures to gain the upper hand in this war.

  The growing enemy army brought no peace. At any moment they could attack, charge forward, or do anything else. The Abrofarner had to hope for a miracle if they wanted to survive this battle. Trapped like a mouse, with nothing but enemies for miles in every direction—not a particularly pleasant situation. After almost a year of trembling, supplies steadily dwindled until they were finally depleted on February 18.

  The inhabitants had to react. Boris, who was just experiencing his 16th birthday, had been preparing for this day as a warrior since childhood.

  Don’t have birthdays in this cursed realm—it brings only misfortune.

  I did not choose that sentence by accident.

  The attack.

  Everyone charged forward. Time to end it with a single blow. The two sides slammed into each other; blades hissed. Rivers of blood shaped the icy landscape. A cold day like this turned into a burning hell within minutes. The Abrofarner had only one choice—to surrender themselves to that hell. But every single one of these brave men, women, and even children was murdered in the most brutal way. The Mushkaren were an overwhelming force. The sky darkened, the stench of blood and burned corpses hung in the air. The hell-creatures could celebrate their victory—the kingdom had fallen.

  Away from the chaos stood two warriors: Prince Boris and King Albert. They too had to endure a fierce fight, but managed to slip away, badly wounded. Together they had fought a thousand of these creatures. They slaughtered them all—but at a high price.

  King Albert instructed Boris to perform the ritual of transfer. In this ritual, the holy axes and their power were passed to the next heir. First, the future bearer had to take the axes into his hands—it was said they chose the heir themselves. After Boris was accepted as successor, his unfortunate fate followed.

  He had to behead his father with exactly three strikes of the axes. The 16-year-old Boris could not inflict pain on his father—and so he beheaded him with only one strike. A mistake that would become his undoing. This meant that instead of inheriting part of the power and growing stronger over time, he had to absorb all of it at once.

  Under normal circumstances, that would have been a certain death sentence. Not for Boris. He suffered hellish agony. On the one hand, his people had been almost completely annihilated; on the other hand, his body could not process the sudden power. His heart threatened to explode, his veins turned pitch-black. Suddenly a violent storm raged and black smoke spread through the air. A scream, wracked with pain, tore from Boris’ body before he finally collapsed under the weight.

  After he endured this suffering, he was king—without a people.

  All these decisions had one result:

  A path straight into Zeki’s arms.

  He had all these fates that brought him new allies.

  Now it was time to decide his own fate.

  One thing is clear, though: when you are placed before a choice, there is no going back. Choosing a path without knowing where it leads is certainly not easy—

  but Zeki can do it.

  To finish my work, let’s talk about someone who had no choice—and who, purely by coincidence, stepped into Zeki’s life: Stahlhaart.

  His captivity with the Mushkaren weighed heavily on him. They were able to reprogram him—yet he could keep his memories, which made him a prisoner in his own body. His personality still consisted of the parts Zeki, Aurelia, and the others had neatly sorted and built. Only now, he could perceive nothing but suffering, hate, and annihilation. He had been transformed into a pure machine of war.

  But deep inside him, the human he once was was still there.

  The boy Johann Liebmayer did not always have it easy. He was born around the year 1205 n. gKS. From your point in the story, he was already 150 years old. Even though his people—the Odacher—naturally had a long life of around 100 to 140 years, he was an exception.

  Born in the small town of Odach, he set out into the great wide world. His wish was to teach children and shape the next generation into a better one. He dreamed of a world without hate, without envy, and with charity.

  But his dreams were in vain—he had to experience war early on.

  His father was a remnant of a long-forgotten war. The Odacher had won, but at what cost? The many battles his father had witnessed as supreme general left him scarred. He had many nightmares and carried obvious trauma from his deployments.

  This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

  His only anchor was his wife and his children: Johann and Kaiser. And when one day the neighboring realm approached him to ask, one last time, for help from the legendary strategist—who went down in the history of warriors as “Der Held in wei?er Rüstung”—things changed.

  He was visibly reluctant to fight again and resisted vehemently. But they forced him, for his own good. His eldest son Kaiser could not stand by and watch his father suffer this fate again, and did what a good son would do: he grabbed the spotless white armor and forged himself a weapon. A white scythe, formed from the steel of the armor. “Der Unheilsbringer,” as he lovingly called his creation, was a great tool for him.

  Already after the first battle, he earned the nickname “der wei?e Kaiser.” He came—and immediately replaced the supreme commander. Fighting ran in the Liebmayers’ blood. He could reach unimaginable heights as a general. Together with his comrades, he won countless battles. The special thing was: he didn’t take a single scratch.

  But while Kaiser let himself loose in the madness of war, there was a forgotten side. The years passed. His brother Johann counted the days until Kaiser would appear again. His mother could hardly wait to see her beloved son again. His father had meanwhile died peacefully.

  Day after day, little Johann stared out the window—in the hope of seeing his brother. But he didn’t come. Then finally: something other than the normal routine. A soldier from the neighboring realm stepped onto the property. In his hand he held a letter with a small, self-drawn golden star on it.

  Johann jumped up at once and ran toward the man. He knew the man had news about Kaiser. But his cheerful face was about to come to an end. The man had no good news. He sat down in the living room—and announced his suffering: Kaiser had fallen in battle.

  The world began to spin for Johann. He thought it had to be a joke. But that illusion was destroyed. His brother would never come home again. He was gone.

  It left him in deep grief. But the next shock followed soon after: the death of his father became known. Not only in the village—but also among scoundrels.

  Until the fateful day arrived: a gang of robbers made their way to the Liebmayers.

  Johann, as he had every day since the news of his brother’s death, stared emotionlessly out the window. His world had died. Then he suddenly noticed the five men. Not long after, he heard his mother’s screams from the kitchen. The men weren’t interested in violence. What they wanted, however, was the old Liebmayer’s fortune.

  There was only one problem: Stahlhaart’s mother had something to say about that.

  She grabbed a chain with a white glowing stone and threw it to Johann.

  “RUN, MY SON! RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!”

  …was the last thing Johann could make out before he fled.

  He had officially lost everything he held dear.

  First his father. Then his brother. Followed by his mother—and his home.

  All he had left was the letter—and the chain as a memory.

  Plagued by guilt for leaving his mother behind so thoughtlessly, his mental state only worsened. Every day he woke up became torture. Again and again, he wished to die. Every morning he looked at the chain again. Every morning he was reminded of his cruel fate.

  He wandered through the world without purpose—but he wasn’t alive. No one had seen him, noticed him, or felt him. He was alone. Completely alone.

  He had made his plan. And when the day finally came that his fate was supposed to change, it was already too late. Emotionless and broken, he made his way to the cliff—his father’s favorite place. Lost in his thoughts, he looked one last time at his father’s grave.

  “Here lies a husband, a father and friend” was written on it.

  He carefully chiseled beneath it: “A pitiful end. With love, your Johann.”

  Before he took a running start and wanted to end his meaningless life.

  His last thoughts were surely devoted to his family. The cliff drew closer and closer. Time to make a decision. He wanted to wipe out this miserable bloodline. He saw no point in living anymore—he wished for death.

  Then he jumped.

  Without thinking, he hurled himself into the depths.

  Smashed against a rock, he lay at the bottom of the cliffs.

  His body was torn in two.

  His legs drifted away.

  His upper body remained at the scene.

  But to his misfortune, fate still took what it wanted:

  He was not allowed to die yet.

  His suffering was meant to go on for eternities.

  And so it happened that a scientist—who happened to be traveling along the road—picked him up.

  With the help of his experiments, he could reconstruct Johann’s body—and form him a body of metal.

  Driven by the extraordinary energy of his chain, he could keep living, even though he didn’t want to. The final steps were taken—and the stone from the chain was implanted into his chest.

  This was the birth of Stahlhaart.

  A boy, forced to live in this world.

  But enough of the past—let’s continue with his time among the Mushkaren.

  That boy still lived inside him, even though he had no clue. As I’ve said, he was reprogrammed for a single purpose—war. Together with the Mushkaren, he could witness a new world order slowly forming. With the help of Pablo’s blood, these creatures could create gene-mutated variants of themselves.

  These already strong beasts became true monsters.

  And right in the middle stood Stahlhaart.

  He had to witness everything. He didn’t just have to live it—

  he was part of the warrior unit that single-handedly wiped out entire peoples.

  He didn’t want to do it. But trapped inside himself, he couldn’t do anything about it.

  Einheit 7 was known among the Mushkaren as the “Death Squad.”

  It consisted of the most powerful warriors these beasts could muster. Because of his strategic disposition, Stahlhaart stood as their foremost man.

  He was the one who set the decisive tone for the attack on innocent peoples.

  He was the one who, on the front line, erased countless lives, families, and existences.

  He—the one who wished to erase his own existence—was forced to level everything else to the ground. The oppression of the Mushkaren was anything but easy for Stahlhaart—the darkness inside him grew every day. Slowly but steadily, his pain turned into hate. His actions became more and more extreme, and his behavior adapted to that of the Mushkaren.

  I would like to tell you more, but that is Zeki’s task—though I do not hope he ever picks up his pen again to let this cruel story live on. That’s it for my chapter. Feel free to use the margin of the page to leave a rating. I didn’t invent a story—I simply turned facts into one—so keep that in mind when you rate it.

  With the code “Luma5” you can also save 5% on a Schnitzel—surely useful someday. That’s all I can offer. Now I disappear again into the eternal depths between these lines. Please don’t forget me.

  Two whole years have passed since my last sentence. Welcome back to my hell, dear readers. How I would love to watch you perceive my story. After all, this work is my unfiltered life—even if I sometimes wanted to lie to you a little, this inexplicable force still pointed it out to me, to stick to the truth.

  Yes, I have never won anything at Edi.

  Yes, sometimes I want to be seen as the hero in my story.

  Yes, I want to flee into a dream world with this story.

  And yes, damn it, I want you to experience this story—

  AND YOU SHALL SUFFER AS I ONCE SUFFERED.

  You shall go through what I went through in my own flesh.

  I DID IT!

  Are you satisfied now?

  COME ON, TALK TO ME. SAY SOMETHING. GIVE ME A SIGN.

  I told them the truth—so where are you?

  Show yourself. SHOW YOURSELF NOW, YOU DAMN ASSHOLE!

  YOU CAN TURN MY LIFE INTO HELL—WHERE ARE YOU NOW?

  As you can see, I have grown mentally during these years. I no longer let any feelings or quiet voices drag me down. I tell my pure story to leave it behind for posterity. The generations after me are meant to feel my suffering, to understand me, to see me.

  From now on, we’re heading into the final sprint of my life so far. I will feed you nothing but the simple truth until you drown miserably in my suffering—just as I once drowned in the silent darkness.

  I stopped telling my story when I was 18 years old—we still have a full 7 years of story ahead of us.

  I want to mention one thing briefly:

  Yes, I decided to pick up the pen again.

  Yes, I’m not proud of some of my deeds.

  But in this world there are no peaceful solutions—at least not yet. The strong have to fight for their position. And me?

  I am the strongest of all.

  My path left many scars, but I had chosen the path of pain.

  I will be the one who breaks this eternal cycle of hate and leads the Schattenreich to new splendor.

  My fate brought me onto this path—so I will walk it. No matter how many stones are still placed in my way.

  Whatever comes at me—I will either destroy it or use it for my further path.

  I am the gate to new hope.

  I bring peace to this realm.

  I am the king to whom all threads lead.

  I am God.

  The most powerful being in this universe.

  Damn it—I will prove to everyone that immeasurable power does not have to be compared to tyrannical traits.

  I will use my strength to build a glorious future as the leader of the Schattenreich.

  But to do that, I not only had to walk a rocky path of suffering, hate, and annihilation in the past—I must also walk it in the future.

  I alone will take all these things into myself—and transform them into kindness, love, and growth.

  And I promise you that.

  You will see me fall—but I will rise stronger.

  I will snatch the crown—and bring the light back to this world.

  I dream of sunny days.

  Of pastures with lush green grass.

  Of fields and meadows full of flowers.

  Of creatures who, hand in hand, contribute to a new era.

  I will be the one who holds all these threads firmly in my hands.

  I have written down my ambitions for you.

  Now only one thing remains for me:

  Please understand my deeds. Please see the whole product.

  Let’s continue with the training under Sensei Bi-Shi-Zu.

  In these renewed 2.5 years of training, I was able to learn many new things. Apart from the novel Bi-Shi-Zu Special, the il Bombo, I was also able to complete the other four training steps with flying colors. I was able to meet the Sensei’s scheduled time of 2.5 years for his instruction exactly to the day.

  But what did I learn during that time?

  The il Bombo attack—I already revealed that to you.

  The second step of the training began.

  My 19th birthday had been only a week ago. A birthday I was allowed to celebrate in the presence of Aurelia, Neo, the Sensei, Boris and Chef le Favre—not to forget Friesnhorn and Goatabi and all the people and creatures who joined the training of Sensei Bi-Shi-Zu.

  But one was missing: Stahlhaart.

  For almost two years now, he had been in captivity with the Mushkaren. As hard as that fate was, all I had left was the hope of freeing my friend from those claws. Another good reason to train with 120% effort at all times.

  Nevertheless, let’s keep this story far away from us and continue with the actual one.

  We threw a big party—everyone brought something along. Whether it was cake, other specialties, or additional training equipment:

  Even back then, I was able to unite the world—if only for a single day.

  One thing, however, was forbidden:

  Giving me a gift.

  I simply didn’t want presents, because that is my job. The time, diligence, and tears these wonderful beings poured into training to support me on my journey were worth more than any gift.

  One exception, however, I couldn’t refuse—a letter from Anthea.

  The slightly singed pages were sealed with a red wax stamp.

  At first, I thought of a treasure map—was I about to become the Pirate King?

  I read through this letter, which smelled unbelievably good, properly.

  The handwriting was so eerily beautiful—Anthea had surely written it herself.

  She left me this message:

  “I will wait. When all of this is over. Finish it, my hero. With love, Anthea.”

  Those words left emotions in me that I had never truly felt before. Of course, by now I had felt affection, friendship, camaraderie, and so many other emotions—but something like real love, not.

  I knew: when Day X comes and everything ends, I will visit her. I will carry the chain close to me.

  It wasn’t just a symbol of my love for Anthea, but also for my friends. Everyone contributed their part to this chain.

  This chain surely had something magical about it—and when it came to magic, we certainly had all the trump cards on our side.

  What surprised me was that my path had come full circle.

  My 19th birthday had another surprise in store for me:

  Master Eibrau paid us a visit.

  He looked deep into my eyes—and then said:

  “A wizard is never late, Zeki Talman, nor is he early. Happy birthday, my student.”

  I hadn’t seen him in a long time. It was nice to learn that he was pursuing the same plan and wanted to support us.

  By now, with Aurelia, we had not only the most powerful, and with Master Eibrau the most experienced mage in our ranks, but at the same time also—according to Master Eibrau—the only two known mages.

  But as a duo, nobody could fool those two mages.

  Yet to my surprise, I received a third surprise on my birthday.

  The last time that happened, my parents died shortly after. Surely that was just a coincidence back then.

  I’m a friend of big parties—but even more, I’m a friend of hard work.

  I also have to tell you something about the training.

  The second stage was intelligence training.

  We were split into two groups:

  I, Boris, and Neo were taught by Sensei Bi-Shi-Zu.

  Aurelia, Chef Le Favre, Friesnhorn, and Goatabi enjoyed their training under Master Eibrau.

  The two instructors had only a few differences in the way they taught. Bi-Shi-Zu and Master Eibrau made a good team. Together they created training plans or improved the training itself. Even back then, this teamwork showed me what you can achieve when you work with each other instead of against each other.

  But now back to the training:

  We were given various combat scenarios and had to come up with a plan to solve them. We learned how to handle different situations. For half a year, we drilled every possible thing into ourselves so we’d be prepared for any imaginable outcome.

  We also swapped Senseis at the halfway point of the second stage, so we could use every conceivable detail that might help us win.

  After we completed the second semester, we were called in for individualized weapons training.

  I was able to improve my handling of my knife and the football immensely.

  In addition, Sensei Bi-Shi-Zu got to work trying to understand the language of my knife.

  He concluded it was an old dialect.

  Right on cue, the knife also chimed in with another inscription:

  “Stoak Zeklbert jetz hau senan die Marün ein.”

  Yes, dear knife, I will bash my enemies’ heads in—but stop calling me Zeklbert.

  In the third half-year, I was able to improve my shooting technique immensely again. In terms of shot power and accuracy, I was able to deliver top performances. I also managed to bring the ball under more control—and with a refined technique, I could now hit enemies who were hiding behind a wall.

  My curveballs became more and more precise—the ball had become a dangerous long-range weapon. With Toni, the knife, solid progress was also made. I could now deliberately hop from enemy to enemy. In training, we had set up dummies that were sometimes more than 20 meters apart.

  After I defeated one dummy with the knife, I could jump like lightning straight to the next.

  A teleportation from attacker to attacker—an upgrade I could surely make good use of.

  The others, too, achieved significant improvements with their weapons:

  Aurelia learned to link her arrows with her magic and thus equip them with all kinds of status effects. The fire that would not go out served for attack. The lightning that was meant to damage the enemy and hold them in place was also a good asset. The vines that immediately immobilized the enemy upon contact had their use as well. Not to mention the cutting water, which was useful in everyday life—and at the same time could inflict deep wounds on an attacker.

  Boris, thanks to the training, could now wield his axes not only like a sword—he had perfected his throwing technique. At a range of 50 meters he could hit with pinpoint accuracy, and with an extraordinary technique he managed to retrieve his axes again and again.

  Neo practiced handling his now blood-red longsword. Even if he was certainly not as skilled as others, he was still able to develop his abilities—and handle his new sword well.

  Chef Le Favre had not chosen a fixed weapon. In his endless bag, he surely carried a few little treasures. He practiced with a variety of devices. He mastered none perfectly—but he could still apply every conceivable technique to defend himself in battle.

  Goatabi and Friesnhorn already knew this training—accordingly, they were well trained in handling their weapons.

  The third semester was soon completed. While we continued to build up our attributes, our Senseis used the time to teach everyone who had joined us basic combat technique.

  Bi-Shi-Zu was responsible for offense, Master Eibrau for defense.

  Our people—the “Enlightened Followers,” as they named themselves—grew stronger and stronger.

  Our instructors managed to forge trained warriors out of a simple populace.

  Once again, proof that you can achieve a lot with kindness.

  Screw your kindness—strength is found in darkness.

  You again? Get lost, you idiot. I’m stronger than I ever was back then. You can’t harm me.

  I don’t have to harm you, young man. Your path is running toward me all on its own.

  Shut up, you runt. I choose my path myself.

  Yes, you choose it yourself—but remember: you will need my strength.

  I need nothing and no one. You forgot that I’m God himself.

  Oh yeah? Because of whom did you become this god? Without my doing, you toad would never have made it this far and would still be roasting on the streets of the capital today.

  Without you, all of this would’ve been over long ago and I could live in peace.

  Don’t you dare pick a fight with me, Zeki, you son of a bitch. I’m the one who chose you. You will fight for me—or drown miserably in your suffering.

  Sure I will. Whatever you say, weird voice.

  Don’t push your luck, Zeki.

  Don’t push yours, annoying voice.

  Anyway, let’s continue. The fourth semester had begun, and they had come up with something unusual for us: we were to set out on a journey and find a creature we trusted. That creature would then become our partner and stand by us.

  Everyone went off in different directions. I searched for days, but had no luck with my choice. I felt like a 10-year-old boy setting out on a journey. Come on, I’ll snag them!

  That was my motto for this journey.

  The first month produced a small selection of creatures I trusted. I had a good feel for that kind of thing. Besides, I could also rely on Gotti-Gottfried’s opinion. Over all these years, he had become my best companion.

  We were an unbeatable duo.

  I came across a squirrel family. These weren’t ordinary squirrels—rather, they had probably trained more in their lives than I ever could. These cute little things were not cute. The 1.60 m tall guys were puffed up like balloons. Pablo’s 8-pack was nothing compared to Boe and Ramboe.

  Still, they were friendly beings—surely an enrichment in battle. I considered taking Boe and Ramboe as partners and approached them with an offer. Neo hadn’t taught me how to negotiate with squirrels, but I had been taught an important negotiating trick: improvising.

  Don’t ask me how I managed it, but the squirrel brothers became convinced friends.

  However, they didn’t want to stand at my side.

  They said:

  “I’m Boe and I’m Ramboe, you scare us, yo!”

  I was completely satisfied with their answer—even though I hadn’t expected these two little guys to like speaking in rhymes.

  Now let’s move on to the next suitable creature: an old swamp toad. Her name was Flora. She was very kind and, during my search in the swamps, offered me her splendid back as a means of transportation.

  She was perfect for fleeing tricky situations.

  In addition, thanks to her impressive age of 250 years, she had grown quite large: 2.5 m—and on top of that, she was agile and fast.

  It almost sounded too good, but deep down I knew:

  My preference is for fighting, not fleeing.

  Flora was put on the shortlist, but I moved on. Of course, I thanked Flora warmly for her help.

  As good as Flora was—my choice had been made, if he wanted it.

  His name was Uwe.

  He was born a mosquito—by no means an ordinary mosquito. While a normal mosquito is about 8 mm in size, Uwe could reach a height of 2.75 m.

  He suffered from the gene mutation 787—meaning he was the leader of the mosquitoes.

  However, this powerful guy had one decisive advantage:

  While Pablo, the orangutan, or other creatures with this mutation almost always harbored aggression toward strangers, Uwe felt no need whatsoever to kill me.

  He was a nice guy—and when I explained my situation to him, he was, to my luck, immediately willing to help, but he set one condition:

  “Zeki, your blood smells so sweet—you can boost my performance immensely with it.”

  A bit weird, but in the end he was still just a giant mosquito. In any case, I accepted the deal—and thus Uwe was chosen as my partner.

  We set off back to base immediately and started training. I didn’t even know myself that I needed the feeling of being flown through the world on the shoulders of a 2.75 m tall mosquito so badly—but it had been a lot of fun.

  We were able to return in half the time of my journey. We had four and a half months left to train before the next stage began.

  When the second month arrived, everyone had finally returned. I was excited to see their partners.

  For Aurelia, there was only one choice: Merlin.

  A sorceress with a black dragon?

  It just fit too perfectly.

  Boris went searching for his old friend, the honey badger who had given him the scar.

  He knew where to find him—Ignaz had been handed over by Boris to a zoo facility.

  Am I mistaken, or am I having déjà vu right now?

  In any case, Boris was very lucky. The zoo took good care of Ignaz—almost too good. The now two-meter-tall Ignaz had apparently been well fed. And according to Boris, he also seemed to have grown calmer.

  However, he was still a bit too jealous of Boris’ other friends.

  That fact meant we regularly had to survive Ignaz attacks.

  Nothing a bit of training couldn’t weed out.

  Even if he still looked at me angrily—at least he didn’t launch attacks anymore.

  Neo had taken the longest.

  But his choice was more than worth the time.

  He stepped onto the Sensei’s farm with an overwhelmingly powerful creature at his side.

  This legendary creature could boast a proud size of 12 cm.

  Yes, friends—magnificent 12 centimeters.

  But don’t be fooled—this mighty being could glide through the air at top speed.

  Its eyes, however, were the crucial point:

  Not only could the little red flower-creature document its surroundings with pinpoint accuracy and project a mapping through its eyes,

  it was also equipped with all kinds of defensive mechanisms.

  Starting with a miniature energy beam, all the way to small petal-shard grenades. She named herself Amelie, a blossom full of hope.

  Chef Le Favre hadn’t had to search long— in his direction lay the hilly mountains of the Alpers. This type of creature was known to me: they were great rock beings. They could be the size of a pebble, or they could appear as a great mountain. Chef Le Favre met Dwayne. His appearance was, well, a rock—that’s all I can say. He had an imposing height of 3 meters. He had a pointed head.

  Goatabi moved into the airy heights of the phoenixes. His return was spectacular. He landed with a majestic phoenix right in the middle of the training grounds. The red-and-white striped bird answered to the name Kaiser and was a friendly creature—as long as you fed him.

  Friesnhorn was lucky, because he met another giant of his lineage, Niesnhorn. Of course the other giant was recruited. Friesnhorn had no trouble at all winning his brother’s sympathy. Even though in the days when the kingdom of giants lived its glory they lived many kilometers apart and were not related, they got along well.

  So our companions were chosen, and over the next four months we poured ourselves into working together with them. Uwe proved to be a surprisingly good fighter—a mix of Pablo and Stahlhaart. I’m sure they would’ve gotten along well with Uwe.

  Merlin was simply Merlin—I don’t have to say much about that. Just a playful, yet strong young dragon. Ignaz was a jealous soul and caused plenty of problems; still, he and Boris fit together like a glove. Dwayne and Chef Le Favre quickly became good friends; neither was a fighter, but pure support for the team. Goatabi and Kaiser harmonized perfectly and could already handle many tasks together. It felt as if they had been fighting side by side for decades.

  I mean, I don’t need to tell you that Friesnhorn and Niesnhorn made a good duo. Neo and Amelie specialized in scouting the surroundings and creating maps—a tactically smart move by Neo. Everyone was able to make significant progress together.

  Then the fifth—and thus final—semester began. Now that we all had our individual companion by our side, it was time to adopt our formation as a team, as an army, and practice for battle. For the first time, we could truly feel the scale of our allies. We gathered all our followers. More than 100,000 creatures, beings, and humans—every one of them stood by our side, ready to help.

  Among them were some familiar faces; I was happy to welcome the Apfelhain city musicians. We split into 9 teams—each of these teams had an advantage and a purpose.

  Team 1, “The Reinforcements,” consisted of Sensei Bi-Shi-Zu as leader and exactly 10,000 battle-tested men and creatures. Their task was to lie in wait in silence for the perfect moment and, as powerful reinforcements, contribute a massive part to our victory. They wore black garments resembling the Sensei’s combat uniform.

  Master Eibrau’s Team 2, “The Scholars,” consisted of a convincing leader and likeable followers. Their goal was to recruit new followers during the battle itself. They called themselves the Scholars because they waged war with words. 5,000 members appeared in a rich green.

  Team 3 had the most powerful leader. “The Children of Magic,” as she kindly named her troop, specialized in the use of magic. Their task was to support Aurelia in battle. They knew exactly which methods they had to use to make Aurelia’s magnificent magic even more powerful. These 20,000 men, women, and creatures were dressed in violet.

  Team 4, “Brains over Brawls,” could only have one leader. Even if his moment for the big speech got ruined once again, Neo was worthy of taking on a leading role. From the backline to the frontline! 5,000 highly intelligent beings had only one goal: to function as a command station and continuously flood the battlefield with new tactics and plans. They maintained a red appearance.

  Team 5 named itself “Right Hand” and had none other than Chef Le Favre himself as the leading supporter. They were responsible for support tasks. Among them were construction workers, cooks, and many other important figures. With his strong group of around 15,000 companions, Chef Le Favre could really show up big. Their brown garments resembled helpers in need.

  The king was able to unite a people of 10,000 willing fighters. Boris, who stepped forward as leader of Team 6, “Royal Guard,” chose a perfect color for his warriors: flawless gold. Their task was to smash enemy lines and sow chaos in their formation.

  Now let’s get to the main attraction. Be honest—you could already guess I would choose Team 7. My assembly, “Bringers of Suffering,” lived up to its name. Tasked with spreading calamity through enemy ranks and crushing their will through fear, I was assigned 25,000 of the most threatening creatures and beings. I rose as their proud leader. I had chosen my colors: I wanted to operate in the dark and decided on a dark gray appearance.

  Of course I wanted musical support in my ranks. Since they did not fight but produced dramatic music on a conveyor belt, I outfitted the five musicians with a dark gray suit with gold stripes.

  Team 8, with Goatabi as leader, drew attention. 5,000 inconspicuous creatures stood by his side for one purpose only. “The White Scent” revealed their appearance: entirely in white. They had only one plan—to lure the enemies into a trap. With their inconspicuous look, they could deliberately make creatures guided only by hate and destruction into targets.

  Last but not least, we welcomed Team 9. Friesnhorn named his followers the “Giant Folk.” Equipped with the greatest beasts our community had to offer, they marched in their shining yellow to the very front line to hold back the enemies’ first wave of attack.

  The teams were chosen, the tasks distributed. It was time to test our abilities in combined combat. We had half a year to get used to the coming war against the Mushkaren. Restlessness boiled inside me—I had already faced these beasts once before. I surely had many thoughts. But at that point, we had only one goal in sight: we had to destroy the Mushkaren and free Stahlhaart from their grasp.

  “Zeki, you seem to be back in your right mind. You were able to successfully suppress the ominous voice. Are you ready for a confrontation with the truth?”

  “Who are you?”

  “I’m the one who doesn’t let you lie about your casino losses. Luma—pleasure to meet you.”

  “Alright, Luma—what do you want from me, and why now of all times?”

  “Meet me at your parents’ grave and find out. Your 26th birthday is set as the date. Don’t disappoint me, Zeki.”

  Did you like it?