The strong east winds herded a flock of rain clouds over the low, rolling hills. Tall, tough grass moved in waves with every gust, flowing and quietly rustling like a gray sea. Craggy mountains enclosed the plane from three sides, bending and molding it into the uneven shape of a giant silver wing.

Right now, a cavalcade of riders snaked its way through the sea of grass. A fearsome knight rode to the front, leading the procession. Not even a ray of sunshine reflected from his black armor, rather, it seemed to absorb the already sparse daylight, turning the man into the embodiment of descending darkness. To his right, an old man with an intimidating spark in his single eye kicked his painted mare and caught up with the leader.

“If the scouts are correct, we should be catching up with them soon,” he shouted over the wind. Throwing a side glance he added: “I do hope we reach them soon. Otherwise, we might be too short on padres when we arrive.”

To the leader’s left, a white gelding gave its best to keep up with the two war horses, its rider being mercilessly shaken each time the animal’s hoofs kicked off the ground. The long black-and-white hood of the prelate’s habit had fallen off of his head and inflated behind him, half-choking the poor man. A similar sight was observed amongst the rest of the twenty-four priests that intermingled with the squad of heavily armored knights. Despite that, the faces of the clergymen, although tired, showed fierce determination, which was best summed up by their leader’s panting words:

“With the Fathers’ blessing… we are here to… protect the Duke… and punish… the evildoers!”

“I hope your staves are more useful than your boasts,” mumbled Noah to himself before raising his voice. “Bishop Petronius, divide your men. Half to the north, half to the south. Kick up the horses. I want you to encircle them. Duncan, lead half the knights ahead and cut their way before they reach Ice-gate Pass.”

“Aye!” Duncan’s voice thundered before two sharp whistles and a few hand signs alerted the knights of the orders. Like a singular being, a small party split out of the main group and flew after the old knight.

“Y-Yes, Your Highness!” Bishop Petronius’ reply was less orderly but his actions were prompt. Slowing down his gelding, the prelate mixed with the rest of the priests. After shouting a few short orders, the black-and-white riders split into two equal groups and rode off to their destinations.

Giving them a parting glance, Noah squeezed Cinder’s reins and his frown deepened. Something was going to happen. The Binshi they were hunting had been acting strange from the very beginning. Why escape towards Silverwing Planes and not directly towards the Wild Lands to the north? Why didn’t they disperse but kept traveling as a monolith group? Were they protecting someone or hatching an evil plan… or both?

His eyes wandering over the silver planes, Noah smirked. He knew what lay beneath the sea of grass. He had anticipated his opponent’s move and brought suitable forces to counter them. Still, this didn’t change the fact that Bishop Petronius only had eight Holy Staves and each one needed three people to activate it. The power of an Artifact containing a single hair from Saint Arslan and Saint Ursule was too much even for Acolytes to handle, not to speak for ordinary priests. Noah could only hope that the clerics would hold up long enough to disrupt the flow of magic and make whatever the Binshi summoned vulnerable enough to kill.

Oh, how much he wanted to kill them all! Tear their limbs. Mince their bones. Soak the ground red with their dirty demon blood. Hear the music of their screams. Feast on that depraved magic until there was no more left…

“Damn!” Noah shook his head, gritting his teeth. “Shut up, you piece of scrap!”

Nerodris continued screaming in his head, pulling Noah’s mind deeper and deeper into madness.

“My lord, ahead!” A shout echoed, prompting Noah to pull back to reality. In the depths of his consciousness, the armor continued with its vile screech, but he managed to suppress it to an ugly hum. There were more important tasks ahead.

Several paces ahead of them, a group of Binshi appeared among the tall grass. Against all expectations, the fugitives were no longer fleeing. Instead, they stood still in a circle with a lone figure at its center.

“Ready polearms!” shouted Noah, brandishing his halberd. “Stay vigilant!”

As if to support his words, the earth next to the knight on his right erupted, bony fingers shooting out to grab the horse’s legs only to be shattered by a precise hit from back-hammer on Noah’s weapon.

“Look out for undead!” he bellowed just as the earth around them began to churn.

More and more hands shot out of the ground, accompanied by weathered skulls and torsos. Pieces of clothes hung from the old bones, indicating that some of them were Binshi, while others wore the lion patterns of the Limerian army. But this was hardly a surprise. After all, Silverwing planes had been the place where the decisive battle between the invading imperial forces and the shamans of old had occured.

Noah swung his halberd tirelessly. Its pointed tip pierced the fiends’ skulls like a giant icepick. The back-hammer crashed their yellow bones. The broad blade sliced off hands and bit into ribs. But even this was not enough. Headless and limbless, the remains of the ancient warriors continued to attack. Every hit chipped and dulled the attacking blades. With each second, the situation looked more dire.

One of the knights cried out as his horse collapsed under the onslaught. Without hesitation, Noah steered Cinder towards the man. Horse and rider became a deathly whirlwind - jaws cracked under the iron hoofs of the steed; bone shards flew in the air under the halberd’s onslaught. Clearing a path towards the fallen knight, Noah jumped down from the saddle and swung his weapon around his body, holding the undead at bay.

“Get on Cinder and move on!” he shouted over his shoulder.

“But… Your Highness…”

“Your protections won’t hold out in close combat. I have Nerodris. Now do as ordered and chop down those pests!”

“Yes, my lord!”

Scrambling to the saddle, the knight flung his glaive, decapitating an approaching scull, while Noah destroyed the legs of two others with a horizontal swipe. At that very moment, the air around shook and suddenly became sluggish and heavy, filled with the pungent smell of colendro flowers and thunder.

“The relics are active!” bellowed Noah and a wolfish grin stretched his lips. “Squash those roaches and secure the perimeter! Don’t let them go near the priests! I’ll deal with the casters.”

“Your Highness! Going alone…”

The knight couldn’t finish. Noah was already flying towards the ring of shamans. Even without Cinder, he moved fast and swiftly toward his target. The halberd in his hands looked like an extension of his body - mowing down the undead in a beautiful, yet dangerous dance. The blade drew circles around him, a whirlwind of steel and carnage. Every swing was a fallen enemy. Every thrust carved a path forward. And thanks to the combined power of the weapon’s blessings and the relics, the dead remained dead.

On closer look, thin wisps of dark smoke rose from the shattered bones and got sucked into the midnight depths of Noah’s armor. The more fiends he fell, the deeper the shien of the black armor became. Instead of dulling and chipping, the blade of the halberd also seemed sharper and glossier. And also… the evil grin on Noah’s face got bigger.

Eyes - bloodshot, he roared and jumped straight between the chanting Binshi. Droplets of fresh, warm blood filled the air. His speed was so great that soon Noah stood amidst a red mist, all his opponents sprawled lifeless on the ground. But he felt nothing. Years ago, he was taught a valuable lesson - a quick kill is the only sure way to subdue a shaman before their curse gets you. This was the price for survival, and Noah was more than willing to pay it.

Now, only one enemy remained.