“Brace yourselves!” I screamed as a storm of arrows fell upon our forces. Screams of the dying and yells of surprise erupted as men around me fell, bleeding. We stood facing the giant fortress, shielding the last of Dijurobul land in the south. Across the ramparts was an army of archers firing arrows down on us. A few seconds later another sea of projectiles descended upon our forces. We were getting nowhere. Drawing my sword, I yelled: “For Andirltan!” And ran forwards.

Andirltan himself rode by my side as we charged towards the seemingly impenetrable wall of stone, the remaining troops following us in a fervor. The enemy archers attempted to shoot arrows down at us, but even those who were hit continued to run as if they didn’t even feel the pain. “Archers!” I yelled as I got closer to the fortress and began to slow down. “Fire against the enemy! Bring the battering rams and begin the siege!”

The archers stopped, grabbed their arrows from their quivers and began to fire on the much larger enemy force. As our forces spread out and held shields over our heads to protect ourselves the arrows exchanged projectiles as both sides suffered heavily losses. A giant log zoomed passed me - a battering ram being supported by ten greenskins - and slammed into the outer wall of the fortress. The wall shook, making a few enemies lose their balance, but no major damage was done. Again and again the battering ram slammed into the wall, and slowly but surely it began to break. I continued to hold a shield over me as I encouraged my archers, occasionally hearing a thunk as an arrow embedded itself into the metal.

After what seemed like hours, parts of the wall finally began to break apart. Suddenly the wall caved open, making the enemy archers fall to their deaths. Thousands of our own archers had died from the fighting, but the survivors dropped their bows, drew knives and short swords, and charged with looks of triumph in their eyes.

What awaited us inside was an assembled army at least as large as the one we had. Chaos broke out instantly, each warrior throwing himself into the fray, possibly never to emerge. I circled around in the battle, rallying my troops and making sure Andirltan was save, cutting down an enemy every now and then. An ogre raised his club to crush me with but was thrown to the side as a troll slammed into him with a spear. The two began to fight, and I quickly cut furiously at the ogre’s legs. As the giant fell, the troll spun around his spear before sending it through his victim’s throat.

“Thank you,” I gasped to the troll. The troll smiled, but as he did a pair of orcs descended on him. I rushed to his aid and we managed to kill the two attackers, but his wounds were grievous. “Go back,” I advised, “you have served well. Your duty is over.”

The troll shook his head as he slowly shambled towards his spear and took it out of the ogre’s corpse. “My duty is over when I die,” he said, before charging back into the battle with a yell.

The courage of warriors never ceases to amaze me. War is a horrible, ugly thing, but the bravery warriors have when fighting in it is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Inspired by the troll, I jumped onto another orc and slit his throat with Excalibur. I roared, daring anyone to challenge me, Larek the Goblinsbane, Knight of Andirltan.

The battle enveloped me as I swung my sword around, feeling invincible. All fear left me as I cut down enemy after enemy - I was a warrior. I might die today, but if I did I would take as many enemies down with me as I could. A goblin snarled as he as he fired a crossbow bolt at my face. I turned to my left and knew the projectile had hit my arm, but I didn’t even feel it - I was drunk on the battle. In two leaps I was next to the goblin, and soon he was headless.

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My left arm was perfectly fine - there was a crossbow bolt embedded into it, and it had never felt better. “For Andirltan, the Mountain General, the true King of the Mountains!” I roared, spinning around and slicing anyone in my way in half.

Then, in the corner of my eye, I saw two warriors glaring at each other, surrounded by corpses.

Andirltan, confident and triumphant as ever, holding his father’s sword with both hands. Opposing him was Dijurobul, the “False King” as my soldiers liked to call him. He wore a gold crown on his head. In each hand, he had a long knife.

The rage of battle suddenly stopped - I was no longer Larek the Goblinsbane, just a young orc that felt incredibly weak. I could feel the strength of the brothers as they circled each other, none daring to make a move. I could see them glaring at each other, their hatred for one another so prevalent. The pain suddenly flared up in my left arm, and I fell down, clutching it and trying not to scream.

“Dijurobul,” Andirltan said slowly as he held his sword in front of him. “There is a way to stop this. Father gave me his sword - if you surrender now, I will allow you to become the General Major, as long as you surrender the crown to me.”

Dijurobul laughed and spat at his brother. “You are a knight, are you not? You have honor. An honorable knight always kneels before his king. Now, kneel.”

“I. Do. Not. Kneel. Before. False. KINGS!” Andirltan roared as he swung furiously with his longsword. I had never seen the goblin so angry as he slammed his sword forwards, again and again, trying so hard to kill his brother.

The battle was more of a dance than a fight. The two warriors slammed their blades together loudly as sparks flew - thunder and lightning. The pace got faster and faster, and soon everything was a blur as the brothers fought furiously to take the other’s life. I looked on in wonder as the two kings fought like gods, never failing, their every lunge and parry perfect.

Then, before I knew it, it was over.

Andirltan ducked as both of his brother’s knives zoomed over his head, and slammed the blade of his longsword into Dijurobul’s waist. The false king roared in pain as he fell to his side. I cheered and slowly ran forwards as Andirltan, gasping for air, stood there victorious. He raised his sword high into the air, ready to end all the pain and suffering the Mountain Kingdoms had to endure. “This brother’s war…” he muttered, “ends now.”

The sword fell… but didn’t kill the false king. Dijurobul held the blade with his right hand, which began to bleed. Grunting in pain, the goblin pulled Andirltan down until their faces were inches apart. “It ends here, but not on your terms,” the goblin smiled, before plunging his knife into Andirltan’s stomach.

“NO!” I screamed as I sprinted forwards. Andirltan’s face was full of shock as he fell. He was bleeding out, but not dead yet. He dropped his father’s sword and tried to scramble back, but Dijurobul grabbed his legs and stabbed at them repeatedly with his knife.

Andirltan’s howls of pain were horrifying. Dijurobul held the knife over his brother’s chest, and made it descend…

My right hand jumped in the way just in time. The knife went right through it, and I screamed in pain, but I refused to let go - I swore I would die protecting my king if it came to it. With my left arm, which was still screaming in pain from the crossbow bolt, I pulled on Dijurobul and threw him down. He fell with an oof, and I put Excalibur through his chest.

I heard a groan behind me. Turning around Andirltan slowly getting up and walking to his dying brother. “This… brother’s war… ends… now…” he repeated to Dijurobul, struggling to speak.

His brother tried to respond, but only ended up coughing out blood. “Your… sword…” Andirltan said, looking like he was about to collapse. I handed him my sword, which he used to decapitate his brother. Holding the head up for all to see, he yelled: “KING DIJUROBUL… IS DEAD!”

Cheers. Andirltan wavered and began to fall, but I caught him just in time. “My lord…”

“I… am dying!” He said loudly so that all could hear. “Hear me, my comrades… my last… wish is this: For… Larek the Goblinsbane… to ascend to the rank of General Major… as he is… my chosen heir. Additionally… I also wish for… Larek… to be crowned… King of the Mountains!”

Confused murmurs and cheers. “What?” I said, tears in my eyes. I didn’t want to become king anymore… I just didn’t want to lose another friend. “Please! You can’t die…”

“It’s not up to me…” the goblin laughed. “Larek… I can feel it… you were chosen. Chosen to become the King… and not just of the Mountain Kingdoms… King of all…” the goblin’s words faded away as his eyes stopped seeing.

“King of Another World,” I whispered as I closed the eyes of King Andirltan Vudrish, First of his Name, Slayer of the False King.