Wiccer shut his eyes in horror as the rushing cavalry barreled towards him. It was all that he could do. His body stiffened in fear and his feet refused to budge, though his brain screamed at him to move. As the black and silver clad horsemen lowered their lances to impale him, a flash of steel pushed him out of the way.

“Elucard would kill me if you died on this battlefield, brat!” Malady shouted. He smacked Wiccer across the head as he pulled the major from the mud. “Show us why you’re in charge, whelp.”

Wiccer breathed deep and opened his eyes. He put a shaky hand on his sword and pulled it out. The steel glinted in the sun. His sword was more than a weapon—it was a symbol of his rank. He was there to lead, and his men needed him to do that at that very moment. It snapped Wiccer from his stupor and the former White Cloak grinned. “Thanks, Malady, I needed that.”

Wiccer planted his feet, threw back his cloak, stiffened his muscles, and took his war horn in his other hand. His soul burned with the spirit of his family and all the Newsuns that came before him. His heart pumped with the strength and courage of his clan. He felt their presence at that moment and with one deep breath, he gave it a mighty blow that echoed across the battlefield. He waved his sword forward. “Attack!!!” His voice rallied through the veins of his men.

Wiccer’s army collided with Aric’s as dragons exploded through the sky. Fire engulfed unlucky soldiers straggling in the rear. The Talon Riders cannonballed through the masses of the Cypress soldiers. Bodies flung up or were buried under the iron armored horses. More and more of Aric’s men spilled out of the city, taking up their arms to deal with their invading enemies.

“I need our spearmen to flank the right side!”

“Get those bowmen to fire arrows at their rearguard!”

“Keep the infantry pushing!”

“Onward, hooo!”

Wiccer led his men through the havoc as they picked up steam. Wiccer picked up a fallen kite shield and with his soldiers by his side, collided against the enemy forces. He dug his feet through the blood soaked mud, inching forward, and thrusting his sword into the flesh of the Estinians as they too, resisted Wiccer’s push.

“Forward, lads, don’t let up!” Greyblade called to the vanguard.

Wiccer roared at the top of his lungs as Greyblade’s words fueled his muscles. Together Wiccer’s men broke through the lines and all chaos broke loose as the Cypress Alliances poured into the bulk of Aric’s forces.

Soldiers clashed with soldiers in a savage brawl. Spears impaled and swords slashed. Blood sprayed and limbs flew. At the center of it all Wiccer cut his path to Aric Stine.

“Aric!!!” Wiccer bellowed. “You’re mine!”

Aric released the throat of a young elf and turned his bloodstained face to his challenger. “Who dares approach me?” he asked, with a madness rife in his voice. His eyes went wild and his hands quivered as if he was not in control of his body.

Wiccer pointed his sword to the king. “I am Major Wiccer Newsun, son of Marcus Newsun, and today I end this war!”

Malady slid between the two, an arming sword in each hand. “This one is not right in the mind, Wiccer. You can see it in his empty eyes.”

Legion checked Aric with a heavy shoulder thrust. Aric flipped head over heels into the thick mud. “Let us handle him Wiccer. We were charged with keeping you safe.”

As much as Wiccer looked forward to his own epic battle within a battlefield that he led, he saw wisdom in the two Black Rabbits’ advice. Wiccer waved for them to continue their duty.

Aric stood to his feet and swayed back and forth. “You think I can not defeat the three of you? I am Aric Stine, Div’Rah of Estinia, Avatar of the Raven-God!!!”

He charged Malady and Legion, slicing erratically in the air, locking with his opponents’ blades and shrugging off each wound he took in return.

Malady drove his twin blades into Aric’s left leg and Legion attempted to end the fight with a hefty slash to Aric’s ribs. Deep, crimson blood spilled from Aric’s side and lips. He grunted as he dislodged the blades from his thigh and pawed the wound to his side.

“Wiccer! Are you so much of a coward that you have your pathetic lackeys do the fighting for you—”

Malady swung an iron studded fist that rocked Aric’s jaw with a bone cracking force. “I am no one’s lackey!”

Aric stumbled backwards and grit his teeth, although now three were missing. He shuffled forward. With each step a pool of blood dripped beneath him. He quickened his pace, stride by stride until he dashed in a full-fledged sprint. He let out his blood-freezing warcry, “FOR THE RAVEN-GOD!!!”

Legion slid forward and thrust his claymore deep into Aric’s stomach, but that did not halt Aric’s mad charge. With bloody hands gripped his hands tightly around his sword’s hilt he swung true, ripping a sizable slice across Legion’s face. The attack clipped through the elf’s mouth and cheeks.

Legion gargled and screamed in anguish as he dropped to his knees clenching his face.

Aric continued his rampage, slashing upwards at the stunned Malady, lifting him off his feet. Aric did not falter or stop in his charge. He barreled straight for Wiccer.

Wiccer readied his blade and ducked a devastating swing that would have lopped his head off his shoulders. With clean footwork, Wiccer spun around Aric and cleaved down, slicing from his head and straight down Aric’s spine.

Aric slowly turned to face Wiccer. Blood streamed down his eyes. He lifted his sword and attempted a final flail of his sword before his body completely split in two.

Wiccer dropped his sword, and ran to Legion and Malady. “Medic!!!” he cried through his hoarse voice. He undid his cloak and tore it into strips. He wrapped one around Malady’s gruesome wound and used the others to dab Legion’s cheeks.

“I-I’ll be f-fine,” Legion choked. “J-just another s-scar for the c-collection.”

Wiccer shook his head, impressed by Legion’s composure. He looked around and waved down a medic. “Over here, Corporal!”

From the smoke of smoldering embers a Bloodbog orc approached Wiccer. One his belt dangled the heads of several Estinian soldiers. The orc spied the gruesome sight of Aric Stine’s corpse and nodded to Wiccer.

“A good kill,” acknowledged the orc.

Wiccer looked up, still catching his breath. “Thank you,” he said.

Wiccer stood to watch as the battle continued to rage on. Just like the Estinians he encountered throughout this land, they refused to surrender even with their fallen king. Wiccer lifted his war horn and let out a long drone. “HOLD THE LINES!!!”

Dallin and Greyblade blew their own warhorns, both with their own distinct sound to command their own units. Together the Cypress Alliance broke past the New Estinian forces and flooded through the city. Southtail’s dragon flight succeeded with its own battle as corpses, scaled and flesh, rained from the sky crushing shops and homes. Without a defending army, Aric City had fallen!

***

A makeshift stretcher made from two wooden poles and belts carried Mave across the now calm battlefield. She was in considerable pain, but kept on a tough front. With one hand holding onto Bruce, she grunted and groaned. She chewed on her lip as she tried not to pass out. Her maimed leg seeped blood and pus through the many bandages that Essie dressed her wound with.

“Atta-girl, Captain, we’re almost back to the medic tent, then I can take a real look at your leg,” Essie said gently. She patted Mave’s shoulder and dampened her forehead with a wet cloth to stave off any fever.

“Arr—I ain’t out of the game yet, Es. Show me a bloomin’ Estinian and I’ll smash their ugly face in!” Mave growled through spurts of pain.

As the five of them reached the medic tent, Bruce and Kyzo set Mave gingerly on the ground.

“I’ll fetch a surgeon,” said Essie.

“Bruce.” Mave tugged on the large harekin’s foot. She waited for him to kneel beside her.

“I’m here, Captain.”

“Where’s my brother? Where’s Quinn?” Mave’s eyes slipped in and out of consciousness as the pain grew too much to bear.

“He’s on his way, Mave. He’ll be by your side when you get out of surgery. I promise you this,” Bruce assured his commanding officer the best that he could.

Mave gave him a weak smile before the pain got the best of her and she blacked out.