The Warrior’s attention turned to his next conquest: the Kingdom of Freislicht, which would be seduced away from the so-called God of Truth.
Lithe heavenly beings, adorned in bright hues, whispered as he approached Truth’s throne. Their furtive glances betrayed their discomfort at his presence.
The Warrior, head high, grinned back at them, delighting at their gasps and glares.
We were brothers once. No matter. Soon they’ll be beneath my feet.
As per custom, he would inform his enemy of their next impending failure. For where was the glory in defeating an unwary opponent? And what better than to gloat at them within their grand castle overlooking the Spiritual Realm with its vast Crystal Sea?
He bowed, perfunctorily. “I, the Warrior, Champion of the God of this Age, lay claim to Freislicht. It shall fall as easily as Dubu and the lands before it.”
J’shua Ha Mashiach, Champion of the God of Truth, strode forth. “You have tempted many, but your time will soon end. It is Written, the children of men shall not disappoint.”
The Warrior snickered. “We’ve eliminated or intellectually disarmed your weak followers. Our host multiplies, swelled by your defectors. What do you have? The human scourge breeds like vermin. They’re ours. Only a remnant is devoted to you.”
“Even the smallest of the faithful is glorious.”
Laughing, the Warrior turned on his heel and left.