The next day, Timothy received splendid news from James. The saboteurs he sent to burn the food of the Tulosans were successful.

"Where are they?" Timothy excitedly asked. He was making an inventory of the weapons in the armory when he heard of the news.

"In your office" James was ecstatic. "Tim, luck is finally on our side"

Timothy put down the sword he was holding. He gently sheathed the blade and gave it to one of the Quartermaster's assistants.

He then walked towards James and put his hand on his squire's shoulder. "It's not luck James. Many things in this world are brought upon by mere luck, but our situation right now is not a gift from the goddess of fortune. We made this for ourselves."

"Yeah" James lowered his head and smiled. "We made this for ourselves" he repeated.

"Let's go. I need to hear the full story. But first" he paused and thought for a while "Do you think General Marvin still have some Hadean wine left?"

*************************************************************

Timothy poured the bottle of Hadean wine into three cups. He carefully filled each of the cups with the divine liquid, afraid that a single drop will be spilled. The golden hue of the wine seduced him into gulping the whole bottle.

He then blamed Marvin. The General actually sent him a bottle of Angel's Wings. There were only about a hundred bottles of Angel's Wings left in the whole world and it was the second rarest wine ever produced. After seeing the bottle, Timothy's first thoughts were to hide it and offer the saboteurs a lesser wine. But he dispelled these thoughts. The two men in front of him risked their lives so they deserve a taste of the second rarest wine in the world.

"Before you tell me of your story, drink first." Timothy gestured towards the three cups.

"Your Highness" one of the saboteurs voiced. Timothy remembered his name to be Jop "That's Angel's Wings right?" he pointed at the bottle with his finger shaking.

"It is" Timothy confirmed

"Then" Jop looked at him like a puppy begging for food "Can we have a taste?"

"Of course. I told you to have a drink, didn't I?"

Jop grabbed two of the cups and offered the other to his partner. Timothy also grabbed his cup and slowly poured the wine to his mouth. It was a sip at first, but after Timothy's tongue was touched by the divine liquid, he couldn't help but gulp the whole cup. It was beautiful. He had never tasted wine as good as Angel's Wings before. The aroma of aged wine and its unique sweetness combined into a concoction that severs one from reality.

"Praise the creator!" Jop exclaimed after licking the bottom of the cup. "Am I dreaming? Elisar, don't wake me up if I am"

"Have some respect Jop" Elisar gritted his teeth "We are in front of the Prince"

Timothy laughed. These two… They were so different from each other. One of them was serious, and the other was a chatterbox. They were unlikely friends.

"It's okay" Timothy coughed to stop his laughter "So, let's begin"

Timothy saw that Jop was still eyeing the bottle.

"Don't worry, it won't run away. Bottles don't have feet" Timothy joked. "I promise we will split the rest of the wine later"

"Then.. let me start at the beginning" Jop said

"No!" Elisar protested "Your Highness, let me report to you about the details of our mission instead. My friend sometimes blabber about useless details"

"Shut up El. I got this" Jop insisted.

"Go on. I like reports to be as detailed as possible" Timothy said to Elisar. The soldier nodded but he gave a worried look towards Jop.

Jop started talking. Timothy then understood what Elisar meant. 'Sometimes blabber about useless details' was an understatement. Timothy regretted his decision. Jop wasn't just a chatterbox, he was a talking machine. It was very detailed, too detailed. He blabbered about unrelated things like what they ate, how the food tasted, the weather, where they rested for the night, the hole in his tent, his soggy shoes. He also revealed personal details like the little drama they had when they were escaping the Tulosans. He revealed every single line of conversation of that night. It was like watching a dramatic play. Timothy eyed Elisar and he saw that the soldier was lowering his head, clearly embarrassed. Jop's story took an hour.

"Wow" Timothy was amazed by Jop's ability to talk endlessly.

"I'm so sorry Your Highness. We wasted your time" Elisar apologized

"It's alright" Timothy comforted "You two are really good friends, aren't you?"

"Of course Your Highness. I'm his best friend. He said so" Jop nudged Elisar proudly

"Shut up Jop. I was just confused that time and that's why I said those embarrassing things. It's not like I care about you or anything" Elisar looked away and pouted

Timothy contained his laughter. These two were the strangest pair of saboteurs he knew. Before meeting them, he thought that the two both had cold personalities. Saboteurs and other experts in the underworld usually acted like that. But these two, they were so different from the norm.

But Timothy remembered the real reason why he met with the two. He wanted to confirm that their mission was a success. He knew the Tulosans will most likely ignore Knighstend and rush towards Tulosan if they still have food. To force the Tulosans into attacking Knightsend, their remaining food supplies needs to burn and disappear.

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

"Are you sure that most of the food was burnt?" Timothy asked

The two soldiers stopped bickering and turned towards Timothy.

"I'm sure Your Highness. It took them a long time to extinguish the fire. I saw it with my own eyes" Elisar said

"Good" Timothy smiled "And how many days do you think until they arrive. Consider that they are marching at full speed."

"Two days at least Your Highness. They are desperate" Elisar answered

That meant Timtohy had two days left to prepare. The upcoming battle will be his first. Timothy was actually a little nervous. Of course he was, the battle will decide his fate. The lives of the soldiers rest on the palm of his hand. His performance as a General will either save or take lives. So he needs to do his best and prepare the soldiers.

The preparation he had in mind was not actually physical, but rather psychological. His soldiers were already in shape for the fight. But as for their will, he can't be too careful. Many battles were lost and won in the past just because someone in the group panicked. Panic spreads like wildfire in a group. Discipline and morale were as important as strength in battle. He decided to inspire the soldiers. He needs to give them a reason to fight and a reason to live. He already had something in mind on how to do this. Well he was planning on doing it the moment he heard that Knightsend had broken the siege so it will be killing two birds with one stone. He walked towards the window and looked outside. The gloomy weather will also help set the mood.

"Come with me to the graveyard." He ordered Jop and Elisar. But then, Timothy remembered the bottle of Angel's Wings. "Well, maybe after we finish this" he grabbed the bottle.

******************************************************************

Droplets of rain fell down on John's face. He looked up and the dismal sky was revealed to him. The clouds hid the sun's warmth and a depressing feeling enveloped his soul.

He looked around. Thousands of people were ahead and behind him. They were in a line that stretched as far as the eye can see. In John's hand was a dagger that had been with him since he was young.

When Prince Timothy announced that he was going to the graveyard to pay his respects and anyone who wanted to pay their respects could come with him, it created a commotion among the soldiers. Many of the soldiers actually wanted to go and pay their respects too. Their friends and brothers were now below the ground and their sacrifice will never be forgotten. They gave their lives for the sake of Castonia. They died as heroes.

But the soldiers were too busy to visit the graveyard. The graveyard was about an hour's walk from the Castle. It was also illegal to leave the vicinity of the Castle without direct orders. Prince Timothy's announcement gave them relief. Most of the soldiers followed the Prince even though it was raining.

Now there were thousands of people inching their way towards the graveyard. The villagers joined the procession too and the whole line was composed of men, women, children, the elderly and the soldiers. The mixture of the people was homogenous and one could not distinguish the soldiers from the civilians. In that moment, separation of class and hierarchy was lost. Prince Timothy himself was at the front, trudging in the mud with wet clothes and dreary spirit. In that moment, all of them had one identity. They were all Castonians. It doesn't matter if one was a soldier, a miner or a farmer. They were all Castonians who were grieving for their dead countrymen.

It was cold. John was shivering. His wet clothes absorbed the warmth of his body. But John bore the cold, at least his body still had warmth unlike 800 of his brothers.

It took a long time for him to finally reach the entrance of the graveyard. There were hundreds of gravestones that lined the field. Every single one of the gravestones had a story. The corpses beneath the gravestones were his living brothers once. He lived with them, grew with them and fought with them. Now they are no more.

At the entrance of the graveyard was a huge plate made of marble. Thousands of things were scattered around the plate, offerings of the people to the dead soldiers. There were flowers, swords, bread and wine bottles.

John laid his dagger beside the marble. He felt his heart twinge. He remembered Aduin, Erasmus and Que. He remembered the time he saw their lifeless bodies. It was painful. They were his friends and now they're dead.

So he must fight. He must ensure that their sacrifices wasn't for nothing. He must show them that their deaths had an impact to the world.

In the marble plate, there was an inscription.

'To the mad men of Knightsend who fearlessly fought and died. Their bodies now cold, and their consciousness no more. But their courage and loyalty lives on. Defenders of Castonia, we are thankful'