The whistle of arrows flew upwards, before falling downwards at an increasing speed. Arrows stabbed into the wooden shields of the men, yet some would leave their vicious marks on the enemies.

“Return fire!” exclaimed the enemy archer division commander, having now both parties launching arrows toward each other.

Both sides continued to fire, as each army’s numbers dwindled. There was a certain air to the battlefield, similar to a burdening tension. It held both blood-lust and resilience, and the staining of the grass red only worsened the feeling.

“You are Gale, correct?” asked the Metz marshal.

“Yes, Marshal Henson,” Gale kneeled, Liam noticing who it was gasped before kneeling.

“Get up son, your father put me in charge of you,” he replied, “Today you fight beside me, and learn from me how I lead. With your father not being here much longer, he put me in charge of teaching you warfare.”

“I-” Before Gale could speak Henson picked him up by the shirt and put him on a horse, “Follow me it’s our time.”

The two rode off to the front of the foot soldiers, as Gale looked at all of the village men. He had known most of these people since he was a child, and now he knew some of them he may never see again. Liam started to jump from the back to get a glance at Gale and Henson, making Gale crack a smile.

“Are you ready lad?” Henson said as the gate opened, raising his halberd in the air as a signal.

Gale nodded, unable to surmise words after everything that had happened so quickly. He felt as if his world was changing at a faster pace than he could catch up to and thus all he could do was stay quiet until he had a chance to clear his mind.

“The archers will keep their archers at bay, our goal is to cut down the first attachment, and their officer, Cliff” Henson said looking toward Gale as they started to charge with the foot soldiers running after, “He is one of the main strategists of the army, cutting him down would save us a headache.”

Hensons turned his eyes toward the incoming enemies. The wind brushed past his face, he had a large scar across his eyes, and green eyes full of resolve. Cliff looked at the oncoming Metz soldiers with disgust as he signaled his change in formation. The hundred and fifty soldiers, who continued to lose size numbers put their wooden shields together, with small crevices to set spears into. A small fire was set to bring out the remaining foot soldiers from the back of the enemy army. The enemy foot soldiers had now numbered seven hundred and fifty. This was comprised of one hundred and fifty spearmen and another six hundred soldiers with miscellaneous weapons.

“Get into position!” exclaimed Henson as a hundred and fifty of the foot soldiers split to both the left and right side. The enemy had sent their final six hundred foot soldiers and split them to the left and right flank making, both sides number one man to two(Metz to Lecce).

The Lecce soldiers, wooden shields split open, with a single strike of Henson’s halberd. His first strike having cut an enemy in half. The foot soldiers had caught up and the reverberation of steel clashing with steel and sparks flying, could be felt and seen everywhere on the battlefield.

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“Strike down an enemy or two, I will make sure you are not cut down,” Henson told Gale, who had unsheathed his sword.

“Sir,” Gale replied.

Gale and Henson got off their horses, as they watched the horses run back to the village gate. The phalanx had been broken, due to the poor durability of the shields, and as such the front line was in disarray. Gale looked around at the oncoming enemies and spotted one nearby who was rushing in by himself toward the two. The enemy thrust his spear towards Gale, who parried it by reflecting it off his sword, before thrusting his sword into the enemy’s heart. He gasped for breath as blood fell down his lips and he hit the ground. Henson gazed at Gale before the two continued to strike at the enemies. Five enemies charged at the two, and Henson swiftly swung his halberd with force, launching all five men a few feet away.

“The only way our outnumbered forces will be able to handle these men is if we take out the head of their attachment. This will break their morale and put them in utter confusion” Henson stated, dodging a spear thrust and cutting a foot soldier in half, “As such, we will be making a beeline lad.”

The two followed by the now dwindling hundred and eighty foot soldiers began to cut through the army’s middle straight to the rear where the commander was. Gale swung at an enemy who blocked it with the spear’s pole and jabbed the opposite end of the spear into his stomach launching him behind Henson. With this brief moment, Henson cut down the spearman veteran, as Gale caught back up to him.

“We’re nearing the rear, so the best soldiers will be ahead,” Henson shouted to Gale as he lopped a head off one of the enemies, “Just try to survive this part, I’ll handle these half-baked soldiers.”

Gale nodded as if having found somewhat of a new resolve, but he felt as if it could crumble at any moment.

Henson grinned, as he started to go at a faster pace, slicing and stabbing enemy after enemy, while Gale tried to keep up. Gale struggled to even cut through one of these soldiers, as he watched the war veterans of the village yell in happiness at finally seeing the pace pick up. The line of men cutting through the Lecce forces grew as Henson and Gale finally reached the rear. Gale caught notice of Cliff attempting to run away after having caught sight of the two reaching rear, so they both ran after Cliff.

“Cliff!” Henson yelled, “Your path ends here. I’ll give you one chance to escape.”

Cliff looked at Henson and unsheathed his sword. He peered directly into Henson’s eyes, who was unfazed by the look.

“Duel this lad here, kill him and I’ll let you walk away free,” Henson glared back into Cliff’s eyes. To Cliff, Henson’s eyes felt like an endless ocean with a hint of sincerity, and that caused him to choose a reckless decision.

“What? Why me?” Gale asked.

“You need experience and he’s around your skill level,” Henson whispered.

“Oath?” Cliff shouted over.

“I swear on the honor of the Metz village,” he replied.

“Very well.” Cliff walked slowly over to the opposing two. Both armies stopped to observe the scene unfolding before their eyes.

“Looks like it’s your first battle kid, no hard feelings,” Cliff said as he charged toward Gale. Gale blocked the strike aimed at his stomach and then swung his sword toward Cliff’s head.

Cliff ducked below the swing and stabbed toward Gale’s arm, to which he blocked it with the hilt of his sword. Gale feinted like he was about to attack Cliff’s side but then aimed for the stomach. Cliff obstructed Gale’s attack with the middle of his sword, before raising his sword upward and smiting downward aiming for Gale’s right shoulder. Blood dyed the grass red, as Gale jumped back. He had taken a shallow strike to the shoulder and he could now feel the sting of the sword. Both armies were quiet anticipating the next moves in the fight. It was morning now at this time, and a cold chill in the air could not be felt by either party. The wind brushed against Gale, and he looked into Cliff’s eyes. Gale felt uncertain if he could really, win this fight, and he felt it was much too soon for Henson to have thrown him into a duel. Most of the grass had been turned red by the onslaught of the two armies. Dead bodies littered the battlefield, and clouds covered the sun. It was a bright yet dreary atmosphere, that was becoming more and more suffocating.

“Shall we finish this menial task to prove our superiority as Lecce?” Cliff stated as both he and Gale ran towards each other with their swords in the air.

Coughs of blood came from both, as his eyesight faded. They both fell to the ground looking up at the dark gray clouds. His hand slowly lost grip of his sword, and slid out of his hands, while darkness encroached and covered his sight.

“Am I really going to die here..?”