"Let us head out then."

The time has come for us to fight this menace that dares threatens my people. I have no doubts now. I feel limitless.

Gram and the others are sent back to reality. There he wields a glowing sword that emits a strange aura, empowering the others with him.

"No time to lose. Let us meet our maker." Exclaims Gram as he puffs his chest forward, brimming with confidence behind his words.

A large army forms outside the city's borders. Mounted warriors, bow wielding soldiers, footmen. All face forward where the aforementioned army is said to arrive.

From behind their ranks comes Gram wearing a gold plated armor with his sword sheathed. Poised like his late father the previous king, his intent is the salvation of his people, to end this oppression of fear.

His gaze is forward and focused as he walks by his men, who makes way for him for the front lines. "Faces forward men. The horizon you see in front of you will be filled with enemies of the kingdom. I know that you are all unprepared, but all I ask is that you accompany me in battle," he reaches the forefront, drawing his new sword up above, raising it to boost his men's morale.

Soon you could hear the march of footsteps a mile away, their unison makes a loud noise of an impending army. All had a dark appearance as blue flames burned from their eyes, their menacing faces seemed to terrify the men Gram commands on the fore front.

("The adversary seems formidable. I sense great strength from them individually.") his sword, Gram speaks to him from within the confines of his mind where the two can communicate with ease. They synchronize with each other, making them a force to be reckoned with.

(I've seen a glimpse of his strength back then. Though he never used it, I saw him at his peak... But now, it feels different, he seems darker...) Gram's mind is clouded by thoughts of hesitation and lackluster. Thinking if he can overcome such a well known and feared warrior... And deep inside are thoughts whether he could be the one he was searching for.

("Do not hesitate. Believe in my power and fight. All the answers you seek with come, just be resilient,) his sword encourages him as the army of turned soldiers can be seen from the mountains' horizon.

"Blow the horn! Signal the generals to get ready!" Gram shouts on the top of his lungs, clear and alert. It seems that his leadership will be tested here, and he will gladly accept the challenge.

"Hold! Brace yourselves, footmen, raise your shields, spears down now!" he commands from the front, his words are replayed to every company present on his east and west by worn out couriers mounted on horses. They run without breaks, shifting cycles somewhat perfectly.

From the view above, the front lines change, shields forward and spears down just as commanded. Gram gallops towards the rear. "The plan will commence now!" in a swift motion, the men behind the front lines draw their bows upward the limitless sky.

It was a noon. The sun begun its descent, and the land was covered in a veil of orange light. Frelasien's army was said have numbered up to 50 thousand soldiers, and 7 thousand in reserves total. They enemy however remained a mystery to them. Any strategy might get shot down without the proper information.

The enemy finally arrived in their vicinity. Zombified humans, rather they don't seem human anymore, it's as if they were sent to hell, had their very souls were taken from them and they were forced to walk the earth once again.

In the middle of it all was a warrior who seemed older than he was before. His eyes glowed yellow, and his mouth exhumed blue flames as he exhaled. He looked towards the capital were the enemy stood in his way.

"We begin our march here! Next is the heavens!" They roared in reply to his shout. he brings down his sword, signaling his troops to charge.

Like feral wolves, they run towards their prey in a frenzy, shouting eerily at them. In effect to the charge, the morale of the soldiers of Frelasien went down a considerable amount as you can see some who nearly trembled at the sight of the enemy.

They clashed, the monstrosities gladly accepted the tip of the spears as they were skewered. Though they did not die from that. They stayed on their spears, flailing at them wildly. Some even managed to ripe them to shreds, and some turned the soldiers into one of them.

"Cease the volley! We need to strike now!" he unsheathed his sword, and displayed its grandiose from the light of dawn, empowering those with him. "General Devir will be in charge of the archer unit I return from my rounds," with that, he left galloping, well-armed knights follow behind him in a long line.

A small detachment left the main army from overhead. A lead horseman followed by his army of horsemen made the ground tremble in their wake. Their intention was to pick off enemies that were open. That was easy enough as they seem to have attacked without strategy, yet their numbers don't dwindle.

"Charge! Lower your spears," he commands them as they run them down, breaking their wild formation, impaling, trampling the enemy that dared stand in their way.

"The king is returning from his rounds, alert the archers to volley!" shouted a commander that held its company's banner.

The front lines were holding, but it's not enough. They were losing men, and the enemy was gaining allies. A few more lines, maybe 8 more lines of men were to remain in the front lines.

They fought with trembling hands, trying to just cut away aimlessly into the air, clearly terrified of the enemy in front of them. They had strength unlike any other. Even just one of them would pose a threat if not taken care of and isolated from the rest.

"That was a very splendid attack my lord," greets general Devir who was keeping the army from behind in check, making sure that they don't slack off.

"I need for you to change the cycle. Call the reserve cavalry, shift them with my knights and I shall make another run," he commands sternly, though panting continuously, he asks with a straight face.

The command was handed out immediately without delay and further hesitation. They general caught up that the cavalry run was the only thing keeping the enemy off their front lines, relieving them for even a moment to recover some strength.

But through all that, there he stood calmly without any trace of emotion on his face. he overlooked the battle from the same hilltop from where he signaled his troops to charge. "Futile, all your effort are futile. No one will get in my way. Heavens reckoning will come soon," he started to slowly trot into the battlefield on his horse.

"I'd be too boring to end it all here at once, just like I did with that puny kingdom."

Shouts become gradually silent as the war rages on. Surprisingly the soldiers of Frelasien were holding quite well, but their numbers are just too few to be able to hold them back anymore. It is just a matter of time before their imminent loss.

"Have the archers retreat inside the castle immediately! take the reserves into the city. Bar the gates and garrison the towers and walls, protect the city," the commands that he feared to utter came out as their defeat neared. The front lines have been reduced to rabble, nearly wiped out they retreat back to the rally flag outside the city.

He pants as he rallies his remaining men to him. His armor and sword are covered in blood; his white hair is quite stained as well. ("Do you require more power?") his sword asks him in his mind.

(Hold it off for a while. Give it to me when I rally my soldiers completely,") he responds, hoping that the power given to him will suffice.

Soon most of his men have rallied to his side, while the rest who couldn't make it would either be still fighting there, or holding them back without order. He commands them regardless. "Listen carefully everyone. The situation is dire. We need to hold them back, prevent them from pursuing our allies headed for the city," he looks towards the retreating army.

The army that numbered 50 thousand were now reduced to 9 thousand or so. Those that remained possessed unwavering loyalty to Gram, and they all wish for him to be king. So they want to be victorious in this battle for that to happen.

Meanwhile, the numbers of the enemy increased. They had new additions to their army, namely the soldiers of Frelasien who were turned into one of them.

Having arrived, trotted with a calm demeanor as his own soldiers were still busy fighting stragglers. "You monster!" a soldier ran towards him, sword raised overhead, ready to bring his anger down along with his sword the moment he reaches him.

"Away from me weakling," he snapped his fingers without even looking at him, and at that instant the soldier was engulfed in blue flames, petrifying his entire body. He continued towards the capital city.

He seemed to tremble after burning the soldier. ("Stop this!") A voice desperately tries to reach out, hoping that anyone would hear it.

"Formation! Spearhead formation!" the remaining soldiers moved sluggishly, having been exhausted from the continued skirmishes across the field, but they managed to form up despite the horrible response from his men. Though they too know that the king must be tired from all this, having the lives of many people on his shoulders was a burden unto itself already.

With that in mind, they steel themselves, shouting to boost their morale until their throats went dry. It was the only way they could continue fighting to the extreme.

Gram looked behind him, thinking that the enemy had snuck up on them from behind, but his worries became confusion as he sees his army shouting loudly into the dark night sky.

The sky had now turned dark, the moon illuminated a fragment of the war zone, but they could see the horrid blue flames slowly coming towards them from them to the north.

Gram turned around once again, but not to look at the army, but to see if they had retreated safely into the confines of the city. He sees the walls are lit with torches, the tower torches are also up and bright, flaring smoke into the sky. Archers peered up from the walls, ready and waiting.

"Though I've saved them from a few minutes away from death, i don't think myself to be a saint," he mumbles to himself, slowly losing morale despite his lively soldiers.

("You will surely lose your life if you become disheartened now,") his sword intrudes.

("Believe in my power, and you will not die. I shall purge your enemies under the name that you have shared with me,") his sword suddenly becomes silent, but he feels a sudden surge of power coming from his right hand, where he wields his sword. It takes him a while, but he realizes that he is being supplied with strength.

"Very well. If you will believe in my potential, then I don't see why I can't return the favor," he smiles with a new resolve. He raises his sword up high, becoming a beacon in the night, shining brightly.

"For Frelasien!" he roars while facing the enemy before him. His soldiers follow suit and an uproar emerges from the ranks of 9 thousand men.

He finally leads the charge, behind him are his faithful soldiers, despite facing death, they are willing to face him as well all for the sake of the kingdom and its king.

"Amusing, they are willing the risk their lives fighting for material things such as life. How about I take more then," he deviously grinned, but the expression doesn't match his face. "Don't try to take over now. It's too late ha ha ha," a hysterical laugh escaped from his mouth.

"Come my soldiers of reckoning. We shall purge them for interfering with our campaign against heaven," he is finished toying around. He finally takes things into his own hands, his entire being is awakened as he charges towards the king of the army.

The attack from a frenzied army against a poised, strategically armed one. They battle each other, the oppositions numbers far exceed them at this point. Some would see this as reckless, but none of it matter anymore.

swords cut, flames burn. This battle yearns for blood and death, misery and pain. It is the only thing it can give anyway, yet they stay to fight knowing full well that this will result in a tragedy.

They finally come face to face. His stare is cold and agitating while the other stares with contempt and vengeance. ("This one is dangerous. My power might not be enough to match his, but I can equal his for a short period of time,") his swords inform him about the newfound strength that the blue flames hero has attained through the years.

His gold hair flutters with the winds that breezes by him. His eyes have their attention fully pointed at Gram. They both dismount at the same time, realizing how this will play out.

Without words, they clash immediately. An invisible force pulsates strongly from between them, blowing anyone nearby away.

They both retreat away from each other. He engulfs his blade with his power of fire, the other endows his blade and empowers his body.

"So you're the famous blue flamed hero. Pleased to finally meet you," he greets him with a wry smile, forced obviously, but a plan of intimidation from his part.

He merely smiles at Gram's attempt at intimidation, scoffing at it. "ha ha ha, amusing, just amusing. I can't believe you still have the galls to try a stunt like this when you're already losing," his flames burn brighter than ever, the heat can be felt by everyone who sees the source of the fire.

"Too bad i'm not the blue flamed hero. No time for introductions, but you can call be Kokabiel," He smiles widely as he utters his own name.