An hour later it was finally time for the final game between House Ventris and House Draco. This will incorporate one House leading a charge of two hundred soldiers against one hundred and fifty of the guards of the other House. The sides are to be determined by a flip of a coin. Once the coin is flipped and the results are confirmed. The winning side will choose which side they will play, the attacking or the defending and then the losing side will then choose the field on which the game will be held. The winner is determined by which team manages to keep the flag at the end of two hours.

The two captains met in the field with the overseer who had them pick a side on the coin. The coin was flipped and the Draco captain won.

“We choose the attack.” He grinned.

“Very well,” replied the overseer, “you field selection House Ventris?”

“We choose the section where the valley meets the plains,” replied Christof.

“We will take the plains. Prepare for your demise Ventris dog.” Sneered the Draco’s guard as he turned without even bothering with the traditional handshake.

“Better a dog than a fat, white, pussycat with no balls,” Christof grinned.

The overseer watched the two part ways and only shook his head. He already had an idea of what was going to happen and it was not going to be pretty. The two sides went to their respective sections on the field and stood awaiting the sound of the horn for the game to start. The overseer blew the horn and the Draco’s guards started running from their end of the field. There was about three hundred yards before they reached the center of the field and then an extra two hundred before they met up with the opposing side. By the time they were almost to the Ventris’ guards they finally realized something. The Ventris’ guards hadn’t moved forward at all, in fact they moved back into the section where the steep walls of the valley rose into the air and simply waited for them there.

When the Draco’s guards were about two hundred feet away, they finally started making a move.

“Alright men, let’s show these fat, white maggots how much in a world of hurt they’re going to be for banging their heads on a wall!!” shouted Christof. The Ventris’ guards formed up ten columns by fifteen rows deep at the narrowest section of the wall and essentially hunkered down behind their shields, all packed tightly with each one behind pushing on the one in front.

“Ha ha ha, is this your idea of a fight Lord Ventris? A turtle?” laughed Lord Draco.

“I hope his shell is thick enough!” chimed in Lord Restav as they laughed. The entire audience was laughing now as they watched the Draco guards slam against the turtle shell defense of the Ventris guards. The Ventris guards formation was pushed back a few feet but then came to a stop.

“Empty pans make the most noise,” chirped a boy’s voice from besides Lord Ventris. Oddly enough although the entire audience was laughing somehow everyone heard it and then the place became as silent as a cemetery.

“What did you say you brat?!!” grinded Lord Draco as veins popped out of his head.

“One push to decide it all, one push to make them fall, one push to send them rolling.” Replied Hiro as he pointed to the field.

Everyone turned back to the field to see what he was pointing to.

Christof was in the midst of his men holding back the crowd of Draco’s guards.

“Alright men, let’s show these maggots how to roll. Heave HO!”

As one the Ventris’ formed up columns pushed against the Draco’s crowd of guards sending them all toppling and rolling into the dust. Then while they were down the column spew forth like a raging tide and the Ventris guards set upon the fallen opponents. They were quick in dishing out vengeance. It was short and painfully brutal as they spew forth stepping on opponents who were still lying down, knocking down opponents who were just getting to their feet and slamming against opponents who were already on their feet, thus sending them back onto the ground only to be trampled upon. Twenty minutes later it was over. All the Draco’s guards were on the ground in various states of disrepair. Some were pleading for mercy, some were crying and most had soiled themselves. Christof and his men stood there around the fallen guards, shouting out curses and calling them names the likes of which had not been seen before.