Jorish’s feet shuffled, moving quickly as his battalion followed behind. He felt annoyed, unable to truly run without being way ahead of everyone else. He turned to the right, eyeing Anise to the side, equally somber and focused, then to the left, a dark look in Dyce’s eyes.

 Finally, he looked up, a bright red flair shining in the skies announcing its presence, telling of their urgency. He was given that artifact the moment he was appointed as a battalion commander, it was be a last resort, an absolute emergency.

 Well, what could constitute a bigger emergency that the Witch’s appearance?

 Day after day, as Aleron got even closer. Yet, they didn’t approach here to fight, they had to convince them there, or they might be no hope left. Jorish turned around, looking at both soldiers and villagers who ran, exhausted and battered, hoping to make that destination as soon as they could. Jorish knew they couldn’t last long, but they were almost there, less than a day’s march away.

 Malik… Jorish felt his fists tighten, he was powerless yet again, but it was different this time. Malik was the peak of power, a man who sat above almost all others. Yet, that didn’t matter in the end, the impossible… was impossible.

 Jorish wondered, thinking about Malik. He was happy, he fought and died happy. He thought about the Witch, miserable and eternally suffering. Truly, was it not power that mattered? He wondered, trying to find an answer. Power matters, else you would fall, pushed around by everyone. However, he saw what intelligence could do, Fredek causing a Candidate to bow down in defeat. He saw as powerful people suffered, their strength doing nothing to stop their pain and suffering.

 Jorish’s fist tightened yet again. That doesn’t matter now. They were facing incomprehensible odds, they were thrust in a battlefield of Monarchs, they were just pawns, insignificant, pointless.

 Suddenly, as they almost arrived, Jorish ordered everyone to stop, deciding to move closer to scout. He moved through the sparse greenery, going up the hill until he could look at the city of Aleron. As he looked down, his eyes widened, as he jumped down and shouted.

 “Soldiers! Aleron is being attacked by some monstrosities, let us support them now!”

 Everyone let out a shout, as they started to rush, leaving a few behind to guard the villagers and to keep watch. Jorish rushed in, cutting through the distance in seconds. He landed in front of one of the monstrosities, he gathered all his power in a swing, cutting the monstrosity in half, sending it back into the skies.

 Moments later, the monstrosity started to rebuild its body, reforming. Jorish gritted his teeth, recognizing their descriptions. With the Witch here… they must be the Witchborne! He rushed in again, repeatedly striking the reforming Witchborne, imbuing Energy in every strike. Moments later, the monstrosity stopped regenerating, falling into a mass of flesh and gore.

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 Jorish looked around, watching his soldiers and the guards of the city fight hopeless fights against the monstrosities. He turned around, shouting towards the gate.

 “Open the gates! We have come from Wolnosci, and before we settle our issues, we must defend the line here!”

 Moments later, the gate started to open. Jorish shouted instructions out, as weaker soldiers accompanied the villagers, to enter the city. Jorish and his squad leaders fought for a few minutes, lowering the number of the Witchborne, as they kept pouring in.

 Jorish gripped his spear harder. Suddenly, he felt something approach him from behind. He instantly turned, putting his momentum into his spear. Unexpectedly, he didn’t feel his blade cut through flesh and bones, instead he felt a ting, as steel collided with steel.

 As he fell into confusion, a voice sounded out from behind him.

 “Man, I haven’t seen you in a while and that’s how you welcome me!”

 Jorish’s eyes widened, as he muttered.

 “Traves!”

 Traves smiled, pulling his sword as he turned around smiling, looking at the remaining Witchborne. “Ah, before reunions and parties and all, might be a good idea to deal with those first?”

 Jorish found himself unconsciously smiling, as he nodded. He stood, holding the line as Traves vanished once again, re-appearing with his mask worn, blades of blood reaping the Witchborne as he moved around. It took a few minutes all invading Witchborne were killed.

 Traves stopped, looking at Jorish as he spoke. “There are too many of them here, seems that the Witch is close. Very close.”

 Jorish felt his heart ache, almost debating if he should tell or not, yet, he trusted Traeves and knew he deserved to know.

 “Traves, we… met the Witch.”

 Traves suddenly shook, turning at Jorish. “What?”

 “We… were with Malik. We left as he fought to hold her off.”

 At that moment, Jorish felt the world turn bloody, he could taste iron, and feel his own blood slow down, as the crimson faded as quickly as it came. Yet, a deeper crimson shone through Traves’ eyes, He couldn’t see his face, hidden behind the mask, yet he could imagine a look of fury hiding behind those eyes.

 “Malik… I see. With his sacrifice, the Witch will be weakened. This will be our only chance to kill her. We must move ahead of schedule.”

 Within a few moments, as Traves stood in anger, a few figures approached from the horizon. Jorish could recognize most, Cail and Reinold walked, with another ragged figure moving behind them. Jorish couldn’t recognize him, yet he felt his entire body on a knife’s edge every moment he looked at him, feeling his own soul get cut in fear.

 Suddenly, Traves spoke yet again. “We aren’t ready, yet we must move now. To defeat the Witch, this shall be our one only chance! Sword saint, let us move. Jorish, we will need you guys to protect our backs.”

 The Sword Saint!? Jorish felt shocked as the ragged figure nodded. Preparing to disembark. Jorish prepared to join Traves, as more Witchborne came rushing in towards the city.

 “What?!” Jorish shouted.

 Traves grunted as he replied. “The Witchborne, as long as she lives, they won’t stop. We could defend here for all we want, but as long as the Witch lives, it will be for naught.Ä

 Jorish watched as Traves and the rest started moving, he looked conflicted, between his duty to fight with his men, to defend the city, and his duty to help Traves.

 Suddenly, he felt a knock on his back, causing him to stumble. He looked back, as he looked at the scarred face of Sayaka as she spoke.

 “Go, we will hold things here.”

 Jorish took a deep breath, looking around as he saw Nao, nodding as well. Thus, he nodded, following Traves, spying Anise and Dyce following him.