The Start of a Battle

They reached the castle faster than they reached before, which wasn't surprising to the group.

This was a big matter, a matter that would decide the fate of the world.

And the group knew that very well, which explained the surprise on General Visch's face.

"Well, you guys know how to be right on time," he said, with a laugh that didn't bring up the mood.

"Thank you," Asiris said blankly, as he walked right past General Visch, confusing him of the sudden hostility.

The group was calmer, but he could still feel that intensity. "Okay…" he muttered.

They made their way to the soldier hideout, where they were met with many people who stared at them like they were saviors.

"So you guys are the heathers," one of them said—which he seemed to be sarcastically amused. "And the great Asiris," he teased in an African voice.

Peter could assume that someone in this hideout was African, and that he was just goading for comedy. "So, how about you teach us how to predict every move like a fortune teller," he said, smacking Asiris on the shoulder.

Everyone laughed, although none of it was funny at all.

"Excuse me," Asiris said, which he knew if he stayed in the agonzisement, someone's face was getting split open.

Xavier was already heading there, giving a face to the man who laughed in response.

They sat down at a space that a black person gave, which ironically—spoke in an African accent.

"Sorry about Riki, he's a real pain," he said, giving another chuckle which Peter assumed they would laugh a lot.

"So, are these the princes?" he asked. "Yes," Caville answered. "Micah can use the Heather Eye's power, so we need him on this mission."

"Ah yes, heard that myth before," he said, again chuckling which was starting to annoy them.

Immediately, the mood turned, as someone screamed an order, with everyone as fast as a snakebite standing straight and tall.

Asiris looked to the left, seeing a man with tucked-in shirt and a brown cap, looking like a military sarge.

"The Ikes are getting on our turf, and they're making their march towards the wall."

He took a big pause, giving an eerie feeling inside the base.

"Machine men!" he abruptly shouted, scaring Peter and Micah in an instant.

"Here!"

"Infantry!"

"Here!"

"Archers!"

"Here!"

"Knights!"

"Here!"

"Heathers!"

"Here?..." Micah shouted, which he retreated because of the sudden silence.

"Okay, looks like we have everyone—wait. Asiris?" he asked.

Asiris decided to stand up to save himself the embarrassment.

"Yes, me," he said.

The sarge gave a smile, again smacking him on the shoulder.

"You and I need to discuss uh—things, but lemme give this first order okay?" he declared in a silent voice.

They shook hands in respect, which then Asiris returned to his seat.

As if he wasn't just whispering, he shouted, "Now, we need archers behind the infantry, then we need machine guns on the top of the wall—don't let them get through!"

"Yes, sir!"

"Okay, let's move!" he shouted, as he then looked at Asiris, gesturing him his time to follow.

Micah and Peter felt the tip of their swords, which felt sharp enough, it almost created a cut on their fingers.

"Well, hopefully the Ikes have fun with this," Peter boasted. "You know, I never thought I'd be here." Micah laughed, "You can say that again."

They stayed silent for a second, as the sudden burn of fear started to grow on them.

"If we die in this battle," Peter asked, with a much more shrill cry this time. "It was nice being a brother to you." Micah's fear wasn't the only thing there any more, but now worry. "I can't die, I need to harvest this power to save them, and I don't want to let them down." "Don't worry," Peter said, finally regaining his voice.

"I'll make sure no Ike touches an inch on you at all."

"Thanks," Micah thanked, feeling a bit of safety from him.

But, he was afraid about him. How was he going to protect himself?

The march was still going, and the first wave of groans had already started, which almost made Micah and Peter join them.

"My legs burn," Peter complained. Micah laughed, "You can say that again."

Eventually, Vienne and Xavier met them on the march, which they seemed quite happy too.

"Ahh yes, battle is soon to begin," Xavier testified. "So, what do you plan on doing?" Peter tried to give his most brave simple answer possible. "I'm just gonna kill every Ike I see," he said. confidently. Xavier laughed in agreement, which he was quite pleased at.

"Yeah, the mood is on!"

They all had a good laugh, which faded away slowly once the thoughts came in.

"I hope we survive this," she said.

"Same," they all said in unison, which was intentional.

Unexpectedly, the march stopped, as shouts of order sounded through the army.

"What happened?" Peter asked, confused, which then grew into curiosity to find out.

So, he pushed through the crowd, sliding through the bodies that were stationed in his way. He eventually found the front of the line, gasping at what may be the biggest army he ever saw.

Rows and rows and rows of Ikes were stationed, with what seemed to be one person far upfront. "Who's upfront?" he asked, which surprisingly, he found himself startled as Jack answered him.

"General Stricker—who's great-grandfather fought us in the past war and almost killed our whole army," he said. "He is something to worry about."

Peter looked away from Jack and looked at the man as of interest.

He had little dirty-blonde hair, and the same color for his musty beard.

He had a smirk that almost scared Peter to death, as his voice was twice as nerve-racking.

"Well, we might as well stop him," Peter muttered.

"So, are these the great Hemorrians that have come to stop our army of global domination!?" he bellowed. "I'm, in fact, intrigued."

A sudden annoyance came up inside Asiris when he confidently stomped up to the front with General Visch, which surprised him in many cases.

"Okay, what are you here for?" Asiris asked, shouting to where it reached greatly towards the Ikes.

The response wasn't beneficial to his question after what seemed to be a while.

"So it's true; the Heathers have come to help you guys," he said, his voice sounding much more provoked than before. "Yes—now answer my question. Why are you guys here?" Asiris asked, this time much more vexed. "Because we know about your plan, oh great commander of the Heathers," General Stricker explained, mocking Asiris's position. "It's best that you only have yourself to fight us, not your weak allies."

Suddenly, Asiris found himself hearing the angry snorts General Visch was producing. "You see, you guys have done this world to a crisp. You have no power, in fact, you can't even keep your own princes." Soon enough, he was producing his own snorts, even much louder than Visch, which actually worried the Hemorrian general.

"We'll create a new order, a new law!" the general shouted, as the Ikes started cheering with their swords held high as if they got the victory.

"And you'd wish you'd been a part of it," he returned, as he held his sword high.

"Stations!" Asiris yelled, as the two armies got into positions.

"When do you want to attack?" General Visch asked, bringing out his dual swords which actually intrigued Asiris.

The moment was crisp of battle in the mist, with each eye staring into one another, as each sword with its nib set up to what would be the first battle of the century.

"Now," Asiris said quietly, as the mood was dramatically silent.

Then, the screams bellowed into the air as each Ike and Heather charged at each other with great fury and determination.

The frontlines already met the fifty feet line, and the Heathers were striking their swords amongst the Ikes.

The ones in the back proceeded to their stations, as the archers trudded their way up the wall.

"Ready!" the sarge shouted as he raised his hand up. "Aim, fire!"

The arrows flew from the position, descending into the Ikes that tripped into a lifeless fall.

The frontlines were now expanding, which the Ikes knew they had to do some type of strategic move to defeat them.

Then they looked up towards the Hemorrian archer auxiliaries, knowing their way of path.

"Take down the gunners!" Stricker commanded, as the cavalry hopped their ways towards the machine guns.

The hemorrian army knew this too, and they sent their cavalry, except they were defending them instead.

The clash up in the hills began to take place, as each soldier shouted in fury. Each horse barged into each other. Swords swaying around, batting with each enemy.

Men fell down their horses, as their rides began to run away in fear or get slayed by the machine gunners.

Soldiers began to hold the turf, but the Hemorrians were losing, as the Ikes were beginning to slay them.

So more came.

This time they had horse archers, trying to wipe them away completely from the high hills.

Back on the frontlines, there wasn't even a frontline anymore.

It was more like a path that was cutting through the Ikes, as if they were trying to split them up.

Stricker noticed this, but was too far away to shout any orders.

Looking back, he saw his messengers which he gestured for one to come. "Yes?" one of them in an unidentifiable accent asked. "Yes," Stricker greeted. "Send some soldiers to the frontlines, break the breakthrough."

"Yes, sir," he said.

The messenger drove the horses down onto the battlefield screaming the orders that were specifically given.

"Get some men in the frontlines, break the breakthrough!"

The Ikes heard this, and quickly focused their attention on the frontlines.

The Hemorrians were in for a treat.