Feya watched the entire scene, the image of tens of thousands of arrows hanging over her head, held back with nothing but that man’s bare hands, guards around her gasping as they all felt so close to death. She burned the images into her mind, never to be forgotten.

"Holy fuck," one of the guards cursed, as he watched this heaven-defying feat. All of those present couldn’t help but bow their heads to the man who had saved them all, each of them looking at the arrows fly, seeing the enemy’s frontline crumble and flee in terror.

Feya stumbled in the face of this miracle, her eyes almost dreading to see what came next. She still didn’t know why until her head moved up, and she watched as row after row of arrows spun around, aimed back at their senders.

"Please have mercy on them." She offered a silent prayer to the gods, before hearing the arrows whistle, each one launched back like multiple repeater cannons firing in unison.

She stood up, resolving her spirit, as she watched the enemy soldiers being cut down, arrows landing in the hoard of fleeing bodies. She could see nearly a thousand soldiers cut down, almost two thousand injured, while the rest continued to escape. The giant beast carrying the Bishop and other leaders rushed away through it all.

Feya still hadn’t recovered from the shock, her eyes watering. Eventually, it sank in, and she leapt into the air, screaming with joy. The last few weeks all rushing back to her. She had had to escape the capital and flee, watching her comrades falling by the dozens with each day that passed. Now that they had come across this incredible luck, the floodgates opened, and she cried happy tears.

Each of the guards acted in the same way, bawling with her. Everyone felt like a child as they dropped all pretenses, a river of tears flowing from their eyes. Everyone cheered in reverence of the man who had saved them.

"It's not over yet!" Nathan spoke out as his eyes still looked over to the east side of the battlefield.

A smaller group was approaching. Over one-thousand soldiers marching in unison, each of them full of vigour. Two people lead at the front, looking much more fearsome. While the first army seemed like a militia, this one was closer to an elite task force. The scattered forces on Nathan’s side turned silent, unsure once more.

"We might be fighting the true force here. Hand me a bow." Nathan commanded.

One of the guards quickly grabbed another spare bow and passed it to him.

"Wait here. Let me see if I can talk to them."

Nathan hopped off the cliff, landing without any issue on the ground. The distance fallen would kill an ordinary man, turning into a pancake. This feat alone clearly indicating Nathan’s status as someone no longer human.

Feya, Kai, and the rest watched from a distance, unable to support the man who had saved their lives. One of the guards still tearing up. Feya shook her head as she then commanded.

"He is our master, the one who saved our families and us. We will follow him to the ends of this earth. If you disagree, then you must say so to his face!"

No one would disagree. One battle, one impossible battle, was overturned in a matter of moments by that man.

Nathan started to walk forward, looking at the group. After a few minutes, he stood before them, staring at the two standing at the centre of the column, each one holding authority similar to each other.

"Must be family, then,” he muttered, while taking a look at the older gentleman.

The man was roughly 6'2, with long white sun-bleached hair and sideburns, but an otherwise clean-shaven face. His body was trained, but slightly let go due to his time in the command tent. He held an aura of command and experience.

The other one was a woman, undoubtedly much younger, at the age of twenty, maybe twenty-two at the most. She was shorter, around 5'8, toned, with a sharp, cheeky smile coating her lips. Long blonde curls fell down her back, taken care of well enough to remain in such a beautiful state even in the desert. The gleam in her eyes betrayed her inexperience, but it also showed courage, command and strength.

"Have you come for another round? Ten thousand against one hundred is a poor show on any side. Civilians involved is also bad form!" Nathan shouted.

Some of the soldiers behind both the generals seemed to become agitated by this, which threw Nathan off.

The older gentleman stepped forward, his smile sharp and professional.

"My name is Lee Shee. This is my daughter, Ameria Shee, and behind us is over one-thousand of our loyal forces. We are here right now not due to our allegiance to the Dusk Mistress, but another reason entirely."

He pulled out his sword, turning the blade down and stabbing it into the sand. His leg kicked back, leaving him kneeling on one knee. His daughter mirrored the motion.

The entire army behind him followed in suit, as over one-thousand soldiers unsheathed their swords and stabbed them into the ground, kneeling to him.

Nathan moved forward to reach out his hand, grasping the general's shoulder, his voice loud enough for all those present to hear. What would follow became a memory all of them would remember to their deathbeds.

"Lee Shee, I do not know the struggles you faced, and I do not know why you align to my side, but you have much to make up to the people beyond here. I may accept you, but unless the rest of them do, I cannot accept this gesture."

He pulled the general to standing at ease, his strength surprising the general, given his thin frame. Nathan's hand grasped the general’s in a handshake.

"Forgiveness takes two, but one person must take that first step. Do you understand, General Lee Shee?"

The general felt tears forming in the corner of his eyes, nodding his head as he resolved himself.

"Yes!"