I WILL PROTECT YOU 'TILL MY LAST BREATH | Best Epic Heroic Orchestral Music | Epic Music Mix 

The last of his clan of warriors. His arms tired from repeated blows and strikes in battle and his leg shot with an arrow, a poison barb for a tip, and blood dripping down the shaft. He shields the only child that had survived the massacre of her people. Breathing heavily as he struggled against fear and rage as the poison did its vile work. He turned to the small girl, “Go, young one! I’ll hold them off! You must escape.!” But the child was not willing to leave his protection for the darkness of the escape tunnel that led underground. “It’s alright child.” He said softly, “I will be right behind you once I deal with these creatures. You must live-“ “SO SHOULD YOU!!” The terrified girl shouted through her fearful sobs and tears. “I can’t survive on my on! What if they follow me?! And you couldn’t make it? What if…” The warrior gritted his teeth and yelled in agony as he forced himself to stand, snapping the arrow. “I won’t let that happen daughter of my brother….” His eyes flared red with battle rage. “I WILL DEFEND YOU TO MY LAST BREATH!!!! I will keep my promise to your father! You shall live!! I swore to him I would not let harm befall you. And I will keep that promise!!!!!” With that he swung savagely at the attacking monsters that strive to crush him beneath their massive clubs. At that moment the you , scared girl turned and ran into the tunnel. Yelling as she did, “You better catch up with me!” The warrior answered with a mighty roar as he struck down one of the beasts. The girl ran onward. Once she had gone, the warrior fought without constraint. Slaying all who approached within his range. They fell like leaves in the autumn winds. As darkness fell, the warrior stood still. Blood and sweat covered his shattered armor like a cloak of glistening scarlet. He slumped on the ground, the end of his strength had come. He could do no more. “Brother…I have kept my word…your daughter….she … is…..” As his sight blurred, he saw several lights coming out of the tunnel. They were a neighboring clan , all armed to the teeth. The young girl at the front ran towards him. “Hang on!!!! You will be alright!!! You can’t die yet!!!” The man lay as medicine men attended his wounds. He looked at the tearful face of his niece. “I always keep…my promises…”

A true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him.

"I love not the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend." - J.R.R. Tolkien

"Great men are forged in fire. It is the privilege of lesser-men to light the flame"

John 15:13 KJV "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends." Love is sacrifice. †

The little hand on his back is deeper than one might realize. All a man needs to keep going is acknowledgement and appreciation...that little touch provides both and this exhausted warrior raises his shield to meet the next wave

"A true warrior will not let anyone suffer but himself."

As a father the image of the soldier protecting the innocent child brings tears to my eyes. Reminds me to always protect my wife and children. Especially my wife, she has suffered enough in this evil world as an orphan child.

Whenever I hear one of these, I imagine myself heading into battle, sword and shield in hand, letting out a battle roar. I can't be the only one.

"Death can have me when she earns me."-Kratos of Sparta "Courage is not the lack of fear. It is acting in spite of it."-Mark Twain

That picture is so powerful. Fear not the one with nothing left to lose. Fear the one with only one thing left to protect.

"A man stands up for himself but a stronger man stands up for others "

This is... inspirational. The girl is his charge. His last charge. He feels death taking him. "I am not done", he whispers pas blood flecked lips. He feels a tiny hand through his armor. "No. You are not."

"Each life, a rare jewel." "Worth fighting for. Worth dying for."

There’s always something so powerful about a warrior protecting children from those who wish them harm.

The difference between a hero and a villain is a simple one. It's hope. A hero gives it while a villain takes it away. The hero does not need to survive. He has already chosen his path.

This image is really powerful A warrior on his knees Surround by the enemy Battered and bruised Yet he will not fall He can’t He won’t

Her entire village was burned to the ground by these monstrosities, mum and pa covering her cold body as the night drew on. When I found her, she wanted to cry, but looked like she had actually accepted her fate... I had to take her from that hellish place. What else should I have done? My entire brigade had been wiped and the Royal Forces had since been routed into a retreat but... I was selected to be head of the vanguard as our main army retreated back to the coast to reintegrate with the incoming reinforcements. The King's fleet wasn't but a night away, just over the horizon, and the vanguard flank had to hold out. Still, this curious little girl with red hair... How did she manage to survive? The lumbering undead sprawled from the muck and mud, groaning and sliding along the gravel as they tried to get on their feet. I will say, fighting man has no equal, but fighting a partially decayed skeleton warrior of a bygone era... Now that is real fear. They are formidable foes, able to harness the skill of their previous lives, while combined with the unflinching will to press on, even while half-destroyed... My archers pelted them with missiles and javelins alike, yet most shot straight through their rotted flesh and rusted armor. The captain issued heavy knights to move up and form a line, which I immediately pushed up into the ranks myself. I look back at the little girl, looking for hope, looking for any sign that I should continue my fight. The little girl... She just looked at me with such fearful eyes. She was so scared, and we had no way to link her with the rest of the forces, so she had to stay with the captain. Such hopeless eyes. Rotted stank flooded my helmet, forcing me to gag and hurl inside my helmet. I was a fool to take it off, but I certainly would have drowned. A volley of jagged black arrows zipped through the air, and a shield wall was produced swiftly. One, two, three arrows punched into the wood, nearly tapping into my own gauntlet. My flail made short work of the last skeleton warrior, but only if I aim for the head... These dastardly beings are nimbler than they need to be, but I can see why - limitations of the flesh do not apply to those already dead. Heavy clanking all around my ears, the cries of pain as my line began to faulter, and the loud drone of clashing steel rung in my head. One lucky rotting knight kicks my breastplate and knocks me out of the line onto my back, and I lay and watch as spear-wielding skeletons run my comrades through with ease. I pick up my flail and immediately return to the line, using my own soldiers as means to hold the undead back. I grabbed my companion, who was once alive, and threw his entire body into the advancing crowd. Moans and guttural shrieks sounded off as he tumbled through the masses, knocking quite a few over. I spin to my captain, but he was already long gone... Rotten coward, he even left the child. I swung my mighty flail forward, shattering a skeleton's skull like a clay pot, kicking a shielded foe to the ground, then lunge for the child's hand. With the only survivor of this slaughter in my arms, I took her from that place, muttering soft words and covering her ears with one hand. She was too young to hear the nightmare around her, to witness so much blood and carnage. Anger, sadness, grief, it flowed from my eyes like a mighty river, which I simply could not bear. So much fighting, all for it to end like this... Thinking so hard and reacting so little, however, got me stuck in the center of the village - right in the middle of the undead army. I had nowhere to go, no cover to hide behind, and no more ground to run across. I set the girl down, brushing her hair from her face and gently resting my forehead on hers. "Young one, I will die protecting you. This will happen." I speak very plainly to her. "Those crates, hide behind those and don't say a word." I point to some debris nearby. She surprisingly shakes her head and tugs my dagger from its sheath, pointing it outwards to the unflinching undead. "NO! I said-" I try to exclaim, but a sensation of warmth suddenly flows over my entire body. I look down, feeling something embedded deeply in my chest and poking out the front of my breastplate. I grunt, then fall to my knees, and darkness swept over my vision until there was nothing left. "Are you..." a small voice calls from the darkness. I cannot see anything. "... I am dead. I have fought valiantly and lived a full life... Take me to Eregaal, so I may battle forever in the armies of the Kragalos." I say to the darkness. "... Get up. You aren't done yet..." the voice calls out again. I see a flash of green perforate the darkness, followed by a crack of lightning somewhere off in the distance. "Have I done too little? Is my glory too few?" Another blast of green light shocks my vision, then another blast of thunder rocks my ears from a much closer proximity. "Please... I need you, mighty warrior. Get up!" the voice cries out once more. I feel it then and there, a force beckoning me back to the light. I felt compelled to then open my eyes, and there... The little girl held her hands to me, necromantic and ugly magic flowing from her fingertips and into my eyes. I could see once more! "My glory is incomplete! I cannot join my brothers... Not until I'm done!" I instinctively shout without thinking. In a single motion, I stand up, fiercely ripping the javelin from my chest and throwing it through another nearby rotten knight. The undead stand firm, unyielding in their yearn to kill me once more. My flail meets each target squarely, and this newfound strength inside my body fueled my bloodlust as each strike completely shatters their bodies and armor. I was unstoppable! Arrows could pierce me, but never slow me down. Swords would cut me, but I would never bleed. Maces would crush me, but I would never faulter. The battle raged on for hours, even as the storm swelled from the ocean and met the village. Winds rocked roofs from their homes, glass shattered to the ground, and fires were doused slowly. I watched as the undead certainly had too much, and had to retreat into the forest beyond, leaving me and the child alone in the center of the village. I cried out, raising both arms and shouting a mighty battlecry into the rainy morning sky. My spirit echoed from the valley into the beaches, meeting the shaken bones of my coward captain who certainly recognized my cry of rage. With nothing else in my lungs, I looked at the little girl and bent my knee to her on instinct. "Brave warrior... You have saved me. Thank you." the little girl embraces my bloodied breastplate. I could feel nothing, not even the heavy rain washing the encrusted, rotten blood from my plate, or the little girl's heavy sobs in my arms. "What is your name, valiant knight?" she asks me. I... Suddenly cannot remember. Who am I? I look at my gloves, tangled into my mangled fingers and armor. I have no memories in my head, nothing inside me except dank darkness. "... Mhf... I do not remember..." I mutter out. "... Then you are Lok-Thraa... Weathered Knight." she responds, gripping me even tighter. "... Lok-Thraa... Yes... I am Lok-Thraa." I respond on instinct. Sunlight breached the distant hills, striking the sides of the remaining few houses and hitting the mauled bodies of the undead. Embers rose from their rotting flesh, dumping huge plumes of smoke and fire as their bodies ignited from the light. Ah... Right... Necromancy doesn't work in sunlight. I sat there, waiting my turn as the sun rose above the hills, thinking about nothing at all. Sunlight finally bathed my entire body and the flames erupted across me. Embers shot out of my mouth and eyes as my flesh deteriorated into vapor and steam, leaving little more than charred bones and smoldering armor in a pile on the ground. I was finally allowed my restful sleep... "I will not forget your deeds, Weathered Knight...! I won't forget you!" she grips my charred remains and belts out a mourning scream into the sky.

"Tankers may not be the most revered soldiers on the battlefield, but as the shining shield in the frontline, we stand strong and proud, protecting our fellow troops from harm and ensuring victory for our nation." That's us Tankers

A Man becomes a Soldier to protect what he holds dear, That Soldier through a selfless act of valor becomes a Hero, The Hero through his deeds and sacrifices inspires others and becomes a Legend, After many years the Legend is told and retold countless times until it is believed to be only a Myth, But that Myth will become the inspiration for another Man to take up arms and protect what he holds Dear.

Found this whilst playing dnd, my party was all low on supply’s and they had 2 hp, 3 hp, 5 hp and 7 hp, I was on 17. The witch had escaped and we were about to be attacked, but the entrance into the manor was small, so I as the barbain and one with most health stayed back, I held off the horde to buy my group time to plan, prepare or possibly escape, what I didn’t expect was the paladin, he stayed by my side on 2 hp and refused to let me stand alone, I raged and frenzied whilst trying to cover my friend. I did not make it out, but they carried my friend out since he was knocked. I got a 1 and 6 so i officially died holding the doorway keeping the enemy back

I love things like this, when a soldier, tired and wounded and ready to sacrifice himself to take down the last of the enemy, finds something innocent, precious and beautiful, and goes out of his way to save its life, even at the cost of his own, the battle, the war.

Please pray for me brothers. I am a father with no community, no brothers to stand with against the enemy. May God bless each of you in your battles.

"PLEASE STOP! You've done enough, please stop hurting yourself for me." Touching his back gently. "I can't, I made a promise to you, to her and what is a broken life filled with empty promises." Looks to the men starting to surround them. "No matter what, no matter how I WILL PROTECT YOU!" He lets out a long laboured breath. "So please when the time comes you must escape and leave all this behind you, you must live on." Ducking her head and letting out a single tear. "Thank you, *Whisper* but i'll never forget you"

Let's take a minute to thank the owner of the video without ads. I appreciate this

“I will protect you” I try to live by these words. I want to gain the strength to protect myself and those around me. To be a pillar of hope in a fight. To be that wall that a villain cannot climb. To be a shield, it requires strength. A strength I’m willing to gain but I say it’s not easy.

"What is Death to a man who has spent his life protecting?" "All it means to men like him is an end to duty. To them it means almost nothing as long as the one they protect lives. You can take everything from them, their money, their happiness, their home. But something you can never take is their honor, to them it is only second to the one they protect, and they will clutch it with a death grip. Never cross one of those men, or more accurately never harm the one they protect, because if you do... Well, not even an army could stand between you and them. Honestly though that first track made my heart ache.

"YOU are the future, not me... not anymore."

a warrior is not someone who fights for himself, because no one has the right to take another life for their own selfish greed. The warrior, for us, is one who sacrifices himself for the good of others. His task is to take care of the elderly, the defenseless, those who can not provide for themselves, and above all, the children that will guide the future of humanity. ~ Sitting Bull

My brothers. Hear my voice! I am tired. Of this war, of this battle, of this life. But I will not drop my shield because I’m simply spent. No. I see my final hour in the horizon. I see death welcoming us in his arms. I am eager but before I greet him. I…we have one more task. This child. This girl. The enemy believes that she must be destroyed because she follows no known path but her own. They believe that the ways of the old justifies her crucifixion. I say to you now, that if this was frowned upon by the gods, then she would have been taken long ago. I believe that she is our answer to this cruel world. All she’s ever seen til now are the monsters at our doorstep! She is terrified and scared…and that is something no child should feel. They should be given a chance to see this world, to love, to laugh, and to live. And with that said, I will hold my ground and stand in front of her. When the arrows come, I will shield her. When the swords bear down on us, I will shield her. When the gods bring the fury of the world upon us. I will shield her. What say you brothers! Am I standing alone? Very well. Then raise your shields! Oil your bodies! Sing your song of victory and death. And let give this enemy a wall of shields that protects this flame. In the name of the gods, she shall prevail! For our children! For our wives! For our nations! For her future! We fight! Now… TO ARMS!!!

Plot twist: The little girl was born as a necromancer. Her heart so pure that she couldn't bear to use such dark magic on others. However, she finally decided to do it, in order to control the soldier's corpse to shield herself and fullfill his last wish as her most beloved friend.

I cannot protect the world. I cannot protect my people. I can protect her. As long as there is blood in my veins, she is safe. As long as I stand, she is safe. I do not have much to give, nor long to live, but what I have, I give to her. My love. My reason. My heart. My everything. I still breathe, therefore she is safe. If this is to be my end, then I will make such an end as to make the Gods themselves tremble at the thought of harm coming to her. So come to me. Come to me all who wish her harm. Come to me and meet oblivion. I know where I go. Do you?

"fight not for power or for status, but fight for love, the love of your kin and those around,so they may live on in your steed"

"If you want them, you'll have to go through me." "That is acceptable." "You will not think so."

To be a shield that will not brake. To be a sword that will not dull. To be a armor that will not crack. To be a warrior that will not fall. "To be a Pantheon is to LIVE"

The masculine urge to run into battle and sacrifice myself to save innocents from a tryanical meanace while taking down as many enemies as possible.

Thank you for adding "Tell Her I Wasn't Scared" and "Till Death" here among thos other awesome tracks. You are incredible. I hope you lovely community loving it. :)

"A real hero will always find a way for justice to be served!" - All might

Under the armor, the skin, the muscle, the bone....there beats a heart. From the moment you are born until your last breath. It continues to fight for you. Music that reflects the bpm modulates the heart the same. And through it all, the heart POUNDING, the more it pumps blood around your body. The more COURSES through your brain like a TORRENT. Supercharging it. With all of this VIOLENCE happening within....the brain....in all of its magnificence..can quiet it all to nothing.

"Whenever you feel disheartened or that you're not enough...Set Your Heart Ablaze"

Ok, back again because I literally just thought of this: The invaders have devasted the keep, all around was ash, smoke and the broken remains of the fallen. He has a deep wound in his side, one that will surely end him before too long. But in the haze of smoke he sees the lumbering forms of the monsters who attacked. He is so tired. He wants to rest. But something proceeds the enemy. It is a brilliant spark of color in the haze and gloom, a pure golden color with a halo of white. He blinks tiredly and forces his eyes to focus through his helmet. His shield and morning star feel like great weights holding him. The golden object becomes clear and he sees a child, no a little girl! She is running frantically away from the monsters, she cries for her mother, one among the dead and broken surely, but the cry alone sets a burning fury into his stomach. The icy numbers bleeds away as he finds strength to stand. One of the in monster raises a gruesome club and swings at the defenseless child. He does not remember moving, but the Paladin races like a bolt of lightning to block the blow with his shield, curling himself over the girl. She gasps in shock and when he moves, she slowly moves behind him, her tiny hand held into the soiled royal blue livery of the Paladin Unit. The symbol of a shining sun searing into her memory as the man stands, bleeding and ready. "Step back, little flower... Least you be crushed." He wants and she shakily does. "When you have a chance, run... I will follow soon after. Just over the hill should be my comrades. Rally them." He swallows the acidic bitter taste of false hope, but hope is all he can give the girl as well as his life. She stares at him with wide eyes like liquid sunlight in her sweet face. He has a half mad thought that she would grow into a beauty one day and he'd be lucky to walk her down the aisles, but he knows his end is very near. So he stands taller, shield raised proudly as he begins to swing his morning star. Getting a steady rhythm and marching towards the still advancing monsters. He fights for her, he fights for his people. He fights and fights and fights! But he is flagging. At some point the girl ran as he told her to. He takes a hit and when he tries to get up he cannot. He lays there staring up at the sky a small patch clear of smoke showing him a brilliant sun, not unlike the girl he saved. He sees one of the monsters raise a crude ax and sighs as he knows he will die but then the monster knocked away the sounds of hundreds of Paladins, Soilders and their Field mages rush by one Mage and Paladin stopping by him. "Sir Lionheart!" The Mage is a young thing, a mere boy. "The... The girl?" "She is safe at the camp with the Priestess! Please--" "It.. it's too.... Late... Please... Tell her... Tell her I wasn't... I wasn't scared... Tell her to live on...." He whispers out as he slowly closes his eyes, the world blackening and suddenly he is home, a lazy afternoon spent heading sheep, dreaming of grand futures. He dreams of a woman much older than the girl, who looked exactly like her. 'I got to see our daughter... Even if only this once....' is his final thought as he dies....

"Everyone feels fear, but the difference between a warrior and a coward is which way you run when you are afraid." ~my karate instructor, Bill Brown

If the time ever comes, I will protect my loved ones 'till my last breath. I will be the wall between them and their enemies. I will be the hammer to strike the killing blow against anyone who would harm them. If it takes my life to make sure they're safe, so be it.

It's 11:30 pm... I have a paper due tomorrow... epic music to listen to while writing a paper late at night right here.

The thumbnail reminds me of a short story i wrote a few years ago. Albeit a little different. Instead of a knight with flail and shield, it is a mother clad in armor, and instead of a child, it is her infant son, wrapped in finest silk. The story goes that she was the Sword Saint, and that she stole her own son away from her husband. The husband was the king and abused his power in jealousy over his wife's prowess. He abused her because she couldnt fight back. So one day, she left. She returned under the guise of a wet nurse and knight, never removing her helmet, she curried favor with the knights and even the king himself to gain access to her own son's bedside chambers. She stole him away, fleeing with desperate conviction. Her attempt would not go unnoticed however. She wrapper her son in finest silk and hid him under her bosom and she rode out in the coldest night of the winter. She could not wear her normal armour, because her body heat was keeping her son warm. She was struck with an arrow in the shoulder, but she did not stop. She fleed with desperation in her mind and grim determination to see her son in a safe place, to steal him from the lap of luxury so he could not be raised to the same pedigree as her husband. The knights chased her far. Through the forest and through the fields. She did not let her head start go to waste, despite her injury. At the bridge that connected two lands seperated by a large river, she met a stranger. She quickly dismounted and handed the stranger her son and belongings. The stranger opened his mouth to say something but she quickly silenced him with a glare. She slipped him the note she had handwritten and then grabbed her sword and shield and stepped off. Stranger nodded solemnly and hid the baby under his robes, holding the reigns to the two horses, he disappeared in the early morning mist. The woman knelt down and tied her boots and tied her shield to her arm, which had begun shaking. She grimaced but she stood up and waited. The knights caught up to her before even minutes passed. She removed her helmet and tossed it aside and yelled out "I am Sword Saint Christine, wife of King Richard, and i challenge all of you to come forth and have a taste of mine steel!" The knights faulter, knowing who she is. Knowing her skill. Knowing they cant return empty handed. "None have to spill blood, we require only the boy." One knight spoke, trying to appeal to the peaceful option. "My son is far from this place and goes ever further from that mans foul influence. He shall be raised to be twice the man your king ever will be. To go any further, you will have to kill me. I am his mother, and i will sacrifice anything to see that boy raised well! Even if i will not see the man he will become, he will at least not be like his father! Talk is cheap, you cowards! Face me or turn back!" The knight captain takes his helmet off, "Christine. Dont throw your life away like this. He needs you. We dont want to fight..." "I understand your positions. I know full well the cruelty of Richard. But you must make your choice... the cruelty of Richard, or the wrath of Sword Saint Christine!" The knight captain puts his helmet back on slowly and he turns away, "then so be it... if we cannot convince you, we must kill you. Please forgive us." "Theres nothing to forgive... now come!" The young boy grows into a man. And when he is old enough, he is given the mothers belongings. Among them is the letter. He reads it, believing she abandoned him. The tear stains slightlu smearing her letters indicates the opposite. Sword Saint Christine was many things, but abandoning her son was never any such thing. She loved her son more thsn her own life. When she left, she left to set up contact with an old friend of hers, to raise her son for when she would return to steal him away from her husband. Her letter leaves the boy broken and sad, but full of rage at his father. It was obvious he was loved. But her love was never allowed to bloom.

A TRUE WARRIOR NEVER RUNS FROM A FIGHT

If this is to be your final hour, make it your finest.

damn, these pictures alone inspire me to write stories

Thank you for bringing my music together with so many beautiful people 😊

Death is not a choice it is an outcome of a valient warriors life. Count it for all honor to have the choice to protect precious life. For what is it worth to live a hundred years in cold lifeless solitude. Rather in mind's eye he reflection all the moments his own life held dear. His parents, his father,. His training his dedication to war and death. Now it all makes glorious sense. Glorious divine order. He readies himself knowing his worth and skill, Knowing he can't fail and how desperate and how delicate she is. A deep battle roar forms in his throat and mighty chest. He WILL not fail!

there are things worth dieing for, worth fighting for, and holding onto. precious Holy Spirit will prevail

I hear this music and I’m ready to lay down my life for my family

"Lionheart" is probably my new fav song,the song is just burning with passion 🔥🔥🛐

“The differences between a hero and a true hero are that the true hero will sacrifice anything even themselves to protect the ones they love”

' Here they come.......Stand behind me, kid'.

"Oye, you see this little girl behind me? She's the most important thing to me in this world. I made an oath that I would give her a happy life. And you lot? You're all obstacles in that path, obstacles that I will happily remove."

"I fight, so that you never have to."

No greater Honor for a Fighter, a Soldier, or a Warrior is there than to fight to Protect. No greater Duty, no higher Calling, no sweeter Responsibility. Valiantly, he raises his weapon, and with Bravery, he will fight, and for the Dearest, he shall slay. And in Eternal Glory, he shall lay to rest.

His kingdom defeated, his fellow knights already in Elysium. Alone he stands with a child at his back. a simple and innocent child. The horde at his front. His arms weak, his shield, so very heavy. Wounded, breathing heavy, bleeding... Cold.... Numb to the pain..... but he can still feel his sword, and the warm embrace of the one behind him. "You've done enough!" she cries. "Your still here, yes? then everyone beyond this shield is my enemy!" "Witness me and know your knight did his duty until the end, my queen." "But I am just a commoner!" "At this moment in my last breath you are my queen. Know that I fight until I draw my last breath for my people and remember this day." "What can you do against so many?!" she asks... "I can show you what a true knight can do for his kingdom... Give the dream of hope. NOW RUN! AND DON'T STOP UNTIL YOU CAN'T HEAR THE SOUND OF SWORDS AND THE SCREAMS OF OUR ENEMIES!"

This is masculinity in it's most purest form 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥, many people owe there lives to this light that is the strength of man, so stay strong kings and don't ever stop being the warrior you were meant to be 🔥🔥🔥.

“It’s alright little one, just stay behind me.”

.... this gave me flashbacks 2 the end of a 2 year long dnd campaign. Im happy crying.

'Those who are opposed to violence are protected by those who are not..'

I turn to my family, friends & brother. "I may have hated myself & those in front of me... But not you, or those behind me. Now run... You must live!" "You better catch up with us." He said, before running off. I fought on and on after they had gone. And alas, I've done it. I lay on the floor, medics rushing to tend to my wounds. "Finally... I kept my promises. I'm now no longer anyone's monster."

Your duty is fighting for our people! The enemy maybe numerous and we will possibly die fighting but know in your hearts that for every minute we hold them is one more that our loved ones have. Hold the line gentlemen let no one overtake us!

The words can't express of how this is the most power of us to live life. Absolutely incredible I speak on my own of what my life has been and drugs has taken my life that as a mother supposed to be there for child to serve and protect and I'm not there now. Missing the most memorable times to protect my boys . I love them and miss them very much .

For 8 years I worked in a job that I was the first to scenes where people were dead, dying, and dealing with substantial wounds that were life threatening. It was romantic notions of death, honor, or some abstract notion of honor that drew me to that line of work. I can tell you unequivocally that death is none of those things. It's shocking, traumatizing, and horrific. However, for some reason, we all still remain drawn to this. Truly fascinating. Listening to this made me very emotional. Thank you for taking the time to create this.

This actually makes me wanna cry. Because! Just because!

Damn reading the comments made me tear up some comments were short stories, inspiration speach and even advice for life advice for men to keep moving forward. And as a person who loves games, love fantasy stories, movies, manga, anime, books. It just took me to a different place hearing good music and reading wonderful stories. At the very end of it all the only thing that could come to my mind was of how men as a group from all groups and races. Are standing and waiting for the time to come when they can finally shine. We are waiting for the day when we will have another chance to pick up a weapon, stand with our brothers shoulder to shoulder facing the monster, darkness and demons that will come charging towards us. We will stand with the goal to protect the people behind us. And we will face the battle field and incoming death with a smile on our face. Knowing that what we are doing is important. The day humans reach interstellar travel will be the day men wish for glory and fame will come true .

"I didn't run away this time right?" "No, no you didn't." "Promise me you'll look after them." "I promise."

Listened to this while we were fighting the Illitihid boss in a DnD e5 quest. Three of us, a halfling paladin, githyanki psi-warrior and dragonblood magician, we were fighting till the end, blasting and striking against his psionic defenses, screaming with victory and drinking whiskey. It was a glorious moment

As he draws his last breath, His arms felt heavier than ever, But in that moment of acceptance a hand brought the light, and He knew even he were to falter, others would falter because of him, drawing his last breath he takes a stand, taking up his arms facing the danger and what comes because of it. Here lies a warrior born of ash with a heart of gold.

You Will not die! You fight back! From the deps of ancient caves to the start itself you fight for what you have behind. No matter what. This Is a Legacy that you will carry on you shoulders. For those asking you "why you doing this? Why fighting a losing Battle?" You will wisper in the Wind "its the right things to do if not me Who can? If not me Who can bear the burden? Who Will? If not me anoter One? One last Battle! One last swing! For those Who left! For those Who remain! This Is my last stand! And i Will take everione of them!" The Angel bow his head and keep holding his Warrior. His true God

“Are these the Dark things ye spoke of, child?” “Aye….they made me alone…” “Well then child, fear not. There are darker things than these that I have fought and died against, these are paltry shadows without edges. They will not harm ye.” “”What of you then?” “I will simply die again. It is how I am. Fire fades, and I begin to lose myself. It is the spark within men that lets me keep my feet. Ye carry a healthy flame, child. Shadow cannot douse flame. It can only wait. I have had many last breaths, this won’t be the last. Run along now, my charger will carry you. He knows the way.”

And so he stood his ground, defying the odds, for he found the will to live, he found his reason to fight, and he will protect her until his dying breath.

"Never fear someone who has something to fight for but fear the one who has nothing left to fight for, because they are the most dangerous. They don't care if they live or die"

ok, the artwork slaps but can i just comment on how goddamn huge those arrows are?

In the realms of unprecedented medieval legends, whispers abound of a solitary warrior who hailed from the revered Stockholm clan, said to be guided by an unbreakable creed: "I will protect you till my last breath." Across the blood-soaked battlefield, their adversaries, staunch warriors of the Iron Will clan, stood resolute, bound by their own solemn duty: "I will do my duty till my last breath." This clash of honor will be fleeting. The sole warrior, a beacon of unwavering resolve, faced the Iron Will warriors, their eyes burning with unyielding determination. With each clash of steel upon steel, the battlefield became a tempest of fury and valor. The Stockholm warrior fought with unmatched skill and ferocity, his barbed weapon is a manifestation of his indomitable spirit One by one, the Iron Will warriors fell, their bodies becoming mere casualties of Stockholm's unwavering dedication. Their foe dispatched them with precision and lethal intent until only one remained standing. The Stockholm warrior had decimated the Iron Will clan, but his own fate loomed ominously. As the Stockholm warrior's strength waned, his weary body succumbing to wounds inflicted in the heat of battle, his eyes shifted to the child left vulnerable amidst the chaos. A surge of urgency coursed through his veins, urging him to protect the innocent soul entrusted to his care. With his final ounce of strength, the Stockholm warrior lunged forward, ready to shield the child from harm. But fate had a cruel twist in store. The last Iron Will warrior, driven by the same tenacity that had defined their clan, ruthlessly ended the child's life, extinguishing a beacon of hope in a world consumed by strife. As the Stockholm warrior's gaze fell upon the lifeless form of the innocent, his heart shattered, a wellspring of grief mingling with his waning breaths. His purpose had been unfulfilled, his guide of protection shattered by the merciless hand of destiny. Collapsing from their grievous wounds, the warrior's battered body came to rest beside the child, a final act of devotion. With eyes heavy and burdened, they closed, bidding farewell to this world for eternity. The final Iron Will warrior, the harbinger of death, turned away, their task complete. Yet, the weight of his actions bore down upon him, his body ravaged by sustained injuries. In a cruel twist of fate, he collapsed upon the blood-soaked earth, joining the fallen in their silent slumber. The field fell silent, a haunting stillness enveloping the forbidden territory where they lay. Their bodies, along with the innocent child, found their final resting place, concealed from the world's prying eyes. Forgotten by history, their names vanished into the mists of time, their deeds left unspoken among those who pondered their existence. No one would ever discover the truth of their sacrifice, for the forbidden territory guarded their secrets with unwavering resolve. The flesh and bone of warriors and innocent alike melded with the earth, their story forever lost to the annals of time. Even those who had orchestrated their destinies would remain ignorant, their orders fading into oblivion. Amidst the irretrievable champions obscure history, the Stockholm warrior and the Iron Will clan became but whispers in the wind, their legacy entwined in the silent fields of the forbidden territory. Their sacrifice is a poignant reminder of the perils of duty and the tragic consequences of a world torn asunder.

its not the violence that sets man apart its the distance he's prepared to go

From i fall I rise from ground I become enemy to my own "friend" But i realize that i was the one who betrayed him Now i put on my helmet back.... I see the Chaos What have I done.... This is pure chaos.... I remember now... I just soldier follow order But i never know what i doing or my acttion to people But i open my eyes I see now.. Those word .. "Good soldier follow order" Is was mistake.... My Jedi friend..... My loyalty and honor to him

This is the song that will be play when your chosen.

"Never before has so much been owed by so few"- Winston Churchill

"Only death will ever touch me. And even death will not hurt"

Go down fighting, and when you have given your all and a little more, feel the warmth embrace you as you slip away. Knowing that you dedicated your life to fighting, to stand proud. Now, lay down your sword and lower your shield. May the warrior rest, as all warriors one day do.

And when they seek to oppress you And when they try to destroy you, Rise and rise again and again Like the Phoenix from the ashes Until the lambs have become lions and the rule of Darkness is no more” - Maitreya The Friend of All Souls,

The picture tells it all! We all felt the need or had the thought to protect someone! Its the purpose that raises the ethic! Family, love, friendship... Unfortunately not everyone appreciates that...but what the huck, I felt good with myself and after all I did something good! Am I brave? Yes! Am I stupid? No! I am a human who things that people have the logic to understand... Those who don't understand, are not humen... Peace and love people around the world and especially Ukraine 🇺🇦 and my country Cyprus 🇨🇾 ☮️❤

When all was said and done, Yeshua defended all of us until his last breath on the cross.

"It's not fighting for the one I love that was the problem, it was finding the one I was willing to love and fight for. But, I think now, I found her. So... Come! If this is all you can muster then I'll have no problem protecting her! If it's not, then I'll fight for however long it takes for her to escape."

"A soldier, in the battlefield, wounded. All his family and friends died, slaughtered, tortured. Except for one, and he will fight for her until his last breath. He will fight for his daughter until the end of his days. And he and his kingdom, wins. "

My fav lore entry from destiny 2 on ursa furiosa “Behind her, they ran for their lives. The Fallen had descended upon them in such numbers that they were impossible to count. First it was a Skiff. Then another, followed immediately by a third. And finally, a full-blown Ketch de-cloaked above their position. There were but three of them to protect a hundred who had once been thrice that. Within minutes, it was only her. She corralled the survivors into a cave that once upon a time wasn't a cave but more of an industrial drainage system. It was foul here; the radiation was practically palpable, and the survivors-if they survived this day-would likely find their lives shortened by years if not decades thanks to this poisoned solace. She pushed them forward, deeper into the underground, as fast as they could manage. She carried two children, both eerily silent and unaffected. They, like their people, had endured more than she could imagine in their five-thousand kilometer exodus. They had given up their homes for the promise of something better. For the promise of hope and light and the strength of the pack. In their quest for better lives, they had lost almost everything. Her Ghost told her the bad news-this cave system was a labyrinth extending dozens of kilometers with more dead-ends than not. The walls were deeply reinforced, and its scans could see but half a kilometer at best. It was going to be trial and error, and their pursuers were getting closer. Her Ghost didn't think they would make it. Not before… One of the children in her arms-a little girl whose name was Violet-looked her in the eye and told her, without a hint of doubt, that she knew her Guardian would let nothing happen to them. Not after how far they'd come. She smiled at Violet and told her, yes, everything was going to be okay. She set the children down, told them to run ahead and join the others; she would be right behind them. Alone with her Ghost, she told it to lead them to safety. She would stay behind and buy them time. And by the Traveler's Light, it would be an eternity's worth. And so, reluctantly, her Ghost floated ahead to rejoin the exodus, but not before swearing it would come back to find her and bring her back, no matter how long it took. With the light of her Ghost now out of sight and the soft wet steps of a hundred refugees out of ear-shot, she strapped on her helmet, tightened her gauntlets, and drew a line in the muck beneath her feet. When the chittering of Fallen Dregs finally began to echo through the tunnels, she reached for the Light and with it crafted a shield of Void energy. If need be, she would hold this line until the end of time. As a titan you are a shield behind which the city stands tall..”

If anyone has the right to be called a hero, it's not the one who took up the blade. It's not the one who raised his shield, nor the one who healed the wounded. Only one who truly risks his life may be called a hero. Protect your friends, save the girl, and face danger. It doesn't matter if you fall. No, that's just fine. Cry your heart out over it. Within the defeated, a victor waits to emerge. Stay true to your wishes. Cry out your wishes. And if you do that's what will make you the coolest hero.

It is the Emperor's will, that we fight and die, to save humanity from the enemies without, and within.

Has no boundaries on how crazy his content gets everyday and he never disappointeda us to entertain us and he always makes our day or night even better

A true Soldier was Born, just that, a Soldier. A true Soldier lives and accepts the results of his Service, the Scars, the Memories and the Satisfaction that We Served our Country and our People. A true Soldier Never Forgets And will always be prepared to do it ALL OVER AGAIN. And for those who have Never Been A Soldier you will Never Understand What These Words Mean. May GOD Bless us ALL Lest We Forget.

There’s a lot of these epic music videos, but some of them stand out to me…this is one of them…i give it a 5 out of 5 star review😁👍

Beautiful and Inspiring. I''l be adding these to my music collection I listen to on my headphones when running and working out

Whenever I hear these, I make a alternate battle movie in my brain cuz, why not, its fun. :D Totally deserves some likes for some very good efforts. I have also been stuck in Crete for 10 days longer than I was suppose to.

We fight for honor we fight for our loved ones we fight for our land we fight for our country we fight for our king/queen we well fight to our last breath to protect the ones we hold dear, we well fight no matter the cost so our generation well live on.

The strength and determination a person can possess while protecting the ones they love is unlike any power the feeling of hate could ever produce. If magic is real, it lies within the minds and souls of mothers and fathers.

Me being a conqueror main (For Honor videogame), I approve of this image.