The once peaceful streets of Sanctum were now reduced to rubble. Homes, shops, carts, and tents were ablaze, the thick smock covering the sun. Women pulled their children as they cried while carrying any belongings they could as they fled to safety.

The bells rang across the city in distress, mirroring the hopelessness, panic and despair felt by the people. They lamented in wonder what their future might hold, if fortunate enough to survive.

Betrayed.

Ona murmured as walked against the current. Her black armour had deep red marks and the protruding horns on her helmet made her appearance resemble that of a devil, making the crowds part ways before her.

“To the walls!”

Her voice bellowed in succession.

“Defend the walls!”

She shouted as she raised her fist to the sky. She stood still as she watched everyone run past her.

“You may run now, but you will have nowhere to go. Stand and fight!

“For Endelthir, for Sanctum, for the King!”

Her voice thundered across the streets. She was selling the people false hope.

She knew well that the jewel of Endelthir was abandoned, left to perish with the King and the royal army nowhere to be seen. The mere thought of the royal family infuriated her deeply. She never imagined that they would be so spineless. Even now the royal caste had succeeded in exceeding her expectations.

Cruel as it may be, she had no choice but to stand and fight. She was hopeful that the children of Endelthir would not cower. They would stand and fight. All they needed was their hope to be rekindled.

She roared again and again, in hope of rekindling hope and reminding people of their duties.

Heads turned from the crowds as they noticed Ona’s call for action. One by one they looked towards the horizon and past the billowing smoke, staring at the chaos unravelling before their eyes. Some were guards that took the sacrosanct oath to protect the city, others were merchants that had ventured to the city of opportunity to strike it rich. Others were blacksmiths, butchers, tailors, and street vendors that witnessed their livelihood vanish in the blink of an eye.

They were all citizens that had dedicated their blood, sweat and tears to build their lives in this great city – only to lose it all within a moment.

And yet in face of adversity, rather than stand and fight, they chose to flee and abandon everything they had dearly worked for. That infuriated Ona beyond reason.

“You may run today, and you may live tomorrow. But forever a shadow will loom above you, reminding you of your cowardice.

“For that, I ask you all. To arms! Defend your city, to the walls!”

She walked as she roared at the fleeting crowds in hope of their spirit to awaken.

At first, they passed by their heads lowered in shame. Others offered their apologies, whilst others their prayers.

Hope however was not lost. For some did not cower and their faltering steps were brought to a halt. Their cries soon echoed Ona’s calls and one by one, be they man or woman turned to defend their home.

“To the walls men!”

“The city must not fall!!”

They roared as they reorganised their positions. They scoured their vicinity for axes, hoes, spears, and swords and banded together following the black knight that summoned them.

Behind the devil clad in black armour, they rallied for their salvation, for the children of light had abandoned them.

“Omur, it’s Omur!”

“The God of War has come to our rescue”

They cried and pointed with renewed fervour as they mustered their courage.

Within the span of minutes, Ona had found herself guiding what remained of the city guard and any individual able to wield a weapon into battle. A disorganised mob which fate was uncertain. Many of them would perish that night, but it was a necessary sacrifice.

Beyond the market square and towards the main street wide enough to fit two carriages Ona led her hastily formed militia towards the city gates. Projectiles were launched from across the walls, occasionally landing on the buildings nearby, debris falling onto the streets and crowds.

“Steady!”

She did her best to rein in the crowds. Under artillery barrage even the most veteran soldiers would feel fear – let alone civilians. Disorganised as they were they rushed to the city gates.

At the end the main road before the large city gates a savage battle was unfolding. On the wall, and on the ground, fighting had broken out as ladders allowed enemies to scale the walls. The menacing view of a siege tower approaching the walls only added to the sense of urgency.

The city guards were already engaged in a disorganised brawl where all order had collapsed. Seeing a considerable force, the enemy troops decided to withdraw and await reinforcements.

“Reorganise your ranks”

“Tend to the wounded!”

“Prepare to engage in combat!”

Ona’s flurry of orders helped restore order among the Endelthirian ranks.

A limping guard rushed to her side. Long hair mixed with dirt and blood, with a fresh scar running down his face. Despite his sorry state, his uniform seemed much more delicate compared to the other guards. The deep yellow brigandine was reinforced by a breastplate held together by the pauldrons. A small metal crest decorated with a key and a shield – an insignia that did not belong to the city guard.

“The name is Odmark, I am the captain responsible for guarding House Heres’ southern quarters. Thank you for your support.”

He introduced himself, and quickly reduced his voice into a whisper.

“Are you sure this is a good idea? It is noble to stand and fight to the last man, but dead men tell no tales.”

Eyeing up Odmark from the ground up it was apparent that he had seen better days. Despite his injuries, he remained on the frontlines. The man before her at least had the decency to fulfil his duty.

Completely ignoring his question Ona pushed through.

“Where’s the remaining guard of Heres? I presume you did not simply end up with the remaining city guards for no reason?”

His head lowered in shame.

“The majority of the guard fled accompanying the lords. Whoever stayed back was either killed or laying in the rubbles behind”

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

He pointed towards the remains of a building; a small tent was set up with few soldiers tending to the wounded.

“That sounds like a very lordly thing to do. Regardless, we need to secure the gate.”

Odmark shook his head apologetically.

“That will be…difficult with the current situation. We can barely hold them off from advancing. The city guards are not fighters. True, they were the first to respond to the attack and also the ones that paid the heaviest price. In fact, it was a one-sided massacre which led to many broke them to a mass rout.”

His shoulders shrugged as he continued.

“City guards are after all unfit for warfare. Their routine involved dealing with petty thugs, not warriors clad in armour.”

“Remind me to ask you when I need an opinion. We have no choice anyway, we got to make do with what we got, and push them back we will.”

Ona’s attention shifted towards the ramparts, a mere two hundred feet away. A battle was raging with the Endelthirians being at a disadvantage. Time was running out, and so were her resources.

“Arrange that sufficient oil and firewood is brought. We will need to burn the siege tower at all costs. As for the ladders, give the strongest men axes to chop them down. I don’t imagine we have any arches available?”

Odmark shook his head. Realising that it was an order and not a suggestion he complied.

“As you command.”

“You heard the orders, what are you idling for!?”

In a similar fashion, Odmark barked orders and limped to organise the mob that just arrived.

Wasting no time Ona dashed towards the battlefield, initially picking off sole targets with enough ease to immediately alert the enemy troops on retreat. Left with no other choice they regrouped by the guardhouse that led atop the city walls.

A shield wall formation was immediately set up with their tower shields proving impenetrable to the Endelthian that tried to assault them. Each attempt would only leave them skewered on their spears. It was no surprise that a professional soldier could easily dispose of mere novices.

Ona observed the enemy formation – their tower shields had a silver star engraved, with their open helmets revealing cold eyes that were unmoved and ready to pounce at a moment’s notice. Their captain moved inside the formation, waving his hands chaotically. His plate armour was exquisite, with a red gambeson matching the red plumes on his helmet.

He might be worth something

Ona pondered, and soon enough signalled the Endelthirians around her to organise and prepare for a pitched battle. Seeing her signal, they grouped and faced off the enemy formation. For a brief moment, it seemed as if time stopped.

Both camps stared attentively. The Endelthirian forces resembled vagrants, some carrying maces, spears, and axes, lacking the imposing spirit their counterparts exuded.

They bundled together and readied themselves for the fight about to ensue.

“When the red plumes drop, you attack.”

She did not wait for an answer, instead, she ran towards the enemy formation. Seeing her approach, they once more tightened their formation.

Her eyes were on the target, even if hidden by his helmet she could sense his smirk. The condescending grins on all their faces, she could sense it all. Prior to impact with the spear tips, Ona leaped into the air bypassing the shield wall, with the Breaker aimed at the captain.

Taken by surprise, the soldiers immediately reacted, thrusting upwards without any success. Her fist coalesced only to come down crashing down at the captain’s location. A wave of dust billowed, following which bones cracked, metal crunched, and the ground shook.

It was impossible to see from the dust, but that did not stop the enemy soldiers from thrusting towards Ona’s direction. Each one of their strikes hit nothing but air, Ona had long escaped to safety.

The dust dissipated and the captain that a moment ago barked orders had collapsed to the ground, with spider cracks spreading across the floor.

One by one they turned and looked at the disfigured captain, his helmet meshed with his skull. This was their cue. The Endelthirians along with Ona once more rushed towards the disoriented lines with her relentless strikes debilitating her enemies.

Her blood was boiling with overflowing anger fuelling her momentum.

Before she even returned to the capital, she vowed she would seal her past to never unearth it. She was promised freedom, it was all a lie. Against her will, the Breaker had been dragged back from the dead to torment the living.

Helpless against the torrent the enemy formation faltered, with many breaking into a rout.

“Running already? I am just getting started.”

She snickered under her visor. A view she was too familiar with. It was true that some things never changed. Conflicted by her reunion with her former self which half of her scrutinized it, yet the other half welcomed it, as if two lovers that had longed for one another had at last reunited.

Astonished by her bravery, the blue coats and other militia rushed towards the routing enemy lines. Their bodies clashing, shields slamming on contact and blood painting the streets red.

“For Endelthir!”

They cried like madmen as they hacked, kicked, and charged at assaulting forces.

A wave of blue stormed against the wave of red, soon enough drowning it out of existence. No prisoners were taken, and the unarmed mob were quick to follow behind to scavenge and reuse equipment from the fallen enemies.

The offence successfully restored control of the courtyard and neighbouring streets with barricades and chokepoints created to help control the situation – more importantly, the morale was restored.

It was then when the siege tower had landed on the walls, ushering forth a new wave of enemies. The archers atop were picking off the guards exposed, forcing them to retreat.

Their offence had been brought to a halt as enemy troops once more descended under the cover of arrows.

“Shields, use your shields, you morons.”

Odmark barked at the guards who quickly brought in the tower shields collected from the fallen enemy soldiers. Slowly, and undercover they retreated abandoning the courtyard they had toiled so hard to capture.

Seeing the dire situation Ona had no choice but to attempt and clear the archers on her own. With the majority of the enemy forces gathered on the streets proved to be the perfect moment to strike.

These are all grunts.

She complained as she picked off sole targets, she had lost count of how many had perished by now.

Where’re the officers? Give me the good stuff!

Ona’s eyes darted from one target to the other, the more pompously decorated the armour, and better protected the better.

Jackpot.

A pair of golden wavering plumes bulked between a group of footmen immediately caught her attention.

Locking on she bolted across the courtyard whilst effortlessly evading strikes and slashes aimed at her. They were but a nuisance, a meagre challenge to which his head was the prize.

Sensing Ona’s intent, the officer stepped back as he pointed and barked orders. In unison, the footmen took the offensive.

They surrounded her as if a net was cast and approached slowly. Shields front and spears pointing forward. One step at a time they encroached and tightened their circle.

How neat!

A wide smile had been plastered over her face as her punch obliterated the spearpoint, sending splinters outwards. In a matter of seconds, the momentum brought her gauntlet near the footman’s face, his helmet denting inwards and blood gushing out.

Their formation was compromised, and Ona spent no more time fooling around with them. She darted straight for the officer.

Albeit shocked, the knight swung his poleaxe daringly against her. The stage for them to dance was set.

Sneering at his arrogance Ona leapt forth with ferocity, only to have her first strike deflected. To her surprise, it was the first of the day and couldn’t help but feel her blood itch in excitement.

Marvellous, I got myself a knight in shiny armour.

Pushed back from the impact she immediately rolled sideways as she evaded a sneak attack from her flank – to which she followed up with a one-hit elimination of another soldier.

Sure-is getting crowded here. If only the Royal Army was here…Dammit. There’s only so much I can do!

Seeing the collapsed footman, the knight brought his poleaxe downwards once more. Ona responded by easily stepping backwards.

“You’re not half bad.”

The knight taunted; his irked tone was apparent.

Unfortunately, you are bad. Three hits.

She did not voice her response, to her a dead man’s talk was of no interest. After all time was of the essence.

Darting forth again, she aimed for the chest, but her advance was cut short by the wide swing of the poleaxe. Stepping back, she repositioned herself and attacked once more.

Chaining his previous strike, the poleaxe came down slicing vertically, only to be evaded by Ona’s nimble moves, leaving his neck exposed.

Exploiting the opening, Ona struck with vengeance completely debilitating the target, his body collapsing on the ground.

Witnessing the target fall, the neighbouring enemies halted their movements as if in shock.

Two and a half. Still, I could have done better.

Unfazed by the reaction Ona once more support Odmark. By eliminating the ranged unit, the Endelthirians could once more regroup and engage in combat.

Sensing the danger, the enemy troops once more began retreating towards the guardhouse only this time their backs were exposed.

Relentlessly, Ona rushed in wreaking havoc across her path. The bludgeoning impact of her fists only helped to cause terror amongst the enemy ranks, many deciding to drop their arms to surrender. To their disbelief, prisoners were not considered.

Hacked, slashed, and chopped. The once civilian mob now had its opportunity for revenge, and they did so with vengeance.

War is an ugly business after all

She did not interrupt them, nor did she think they should show mercy, for they would receive none. It was simply how the war was.

Odmark limped once more to Ona’s direction.

“We have everything ready; we can burn the damned things now. Shall we send the men?”

Ona nodded and readied herself. Fatigue was getting to her, after all, it had been years since the last time she was on active duty.

“Alright men, follow me!”

They marched onwards prepared to face the enemy once more, even Odmark had joined Ona limping along.

Bracing for impact both sides readied – only for everything to be brought to a grinding halt. A hundred horns burled, and a loud screech came from the skies.

Impossible, him?

Ona thought, her mind working overtime.

We need to retreat. We can’t fight this.

To her dismay it was too late, the air was heating up, a large beast covered the skies.