Art

"Five, four, three, two, one." Randel made a countdown, and as soon as he got to one, Lewis, along with all the men there, had a sudden confused look as they stared at the bodies of their men that had died.

They stared at the bodies intensely, yet they could not understand who or what these people here were or why they were seemingly near them.

"Who are these? What game are you playing? Why do they have our armor? There are no people like this in our host," Lewis argued.

Randel smiled when he heard that. He clapped once in victory and then spoke.

"Answer this: how many men did you bring to fight me?" Randel asked.

"Twenty-eight men, and they will be enough to get rid of you," Lewis said.

"Sadly, wrong. You brought thirty," Randel said with a smile.