He had brushed his beard too. It flowed with the wind as he observed the misty trench below them. His long sleeves flapped against the wind as well. The old man didn't seem to mind the cold temperature. He closed his eyes and listened to sounds nature produced. 

"That mist will cause us difficulties," he told the king in a serene tone. 

"Keep your focus on Stalwart," the king dryly replied. His legs shook lightly, so he kept shuffling his legs, restless. "My men will handle his army. I already sent a battalion to intercept them at the trench. Two hundred archers will surround them, while the infantry will intercept their only way out. The cavalry will swoop in later and finish off the stragglers. We'll push them back then crush them with boulders from above." 

"That's if you see them coming," the Bishop replied. "Don't fall for the heat of battle. Keep your mind clear, and put yourself in the mad wizard's shoes." 

"Don't you dare lecture me!" King Nicholas sharply retorted. "You forget your place, Priest!" 

The Bishop kept his eyes closed. He p.r.i.c.ked his ears and turned his head from one side to the other, as though he was following something. "They're here," he said. "I can sense Stalwart. He's coming!" 

The Bishop opened his eyes then clapped his hands together. 

"Lord above us, grant us strength. Guide us to your light. Strengthen our hearts, as you once did your most humble servant, Xenos. Oh, wise Dhobor, let thy frail body be a vessel of your infinite will." 

The Bishop shot up to the sky. King Nicholas recoiled as strong winds had pushed him aside. He looked up, and his jaw dropped. A magnificent creature flapped its wings above him. They were made of light, immaterial. The Bishop was nowhere to be seen.

"This is beyond magic," the king gasped. His heart started racing against his chest. "With this magnificent angel at our side... Perhaps we still stand a chance..." 

The Bishop had transformed into an angel of Dhobor. He was roughly the size of the king's castle. His wings shot out of his back, beams of light that twisted as though they were made of flesh. They covered the entire battlefield, draping it in soothing light. 

The angel extended its four arms to the side, and four swords materialized. Each one bore a different color. They were emerald, azure, violet, and crimson. 

King Nicholas noticed a tiny dot in the sky, right above the Sera Trench. The tiny dot grew bigger, and the king realized it was something approaching them. Soon enough, the thing got close enough for the king to finally make out what it was. His heart skipped a beat. 

It was another flying creature, more like a dark version of the angel. It wore a deep purple armor with a horn protruding from its helm. The creature also held a gigantic sword. Milky streams slithered like snakes inside the blade. They'd travel from one side to the other, then travel back again. 

The dark angel looked down at the king. "Nicholas," a voice he knew too well spoke to him. "You took a gamble. It's time to watch how you gambled on the losing side." 

Dhobor's angel swung his violet sword. A screech echoed above the hills. King Nicholas winced, but Stalwart wailed and held his ears in pain. The angel flapped his wings, and a bright light trailed behind him as he zapped toward the mad wizard. 

He swung the azure sword this time, and Stalwart met it with his own weapon. Luna sang as both swords collided. Azure slowly turned into white, then the sword dissipated in the air. 

Dhobor's angel retreated. His extended his empty arm then another azure sword emerged. He horizontally swung it in the air. Ice, shaped into crescent moons, shot toward Stalwart. The mad wizard, despite his heavy corpulence, dodged the incoming projectiles. 

He flung his right arm toward the angel as he performed his last barrel roll. Deep purple, ethereal spears shot toward the angel. He swung his red sword and a transparent s.h.i.+eld covered the angel's front. The spears collided with the s.h.i.+eld. The ensuing explosion flattened the king on the ground. 

When he got up, king Nicholas saw the mad wizard and Dhobor's angel flying into the horizon. They were still exchanging blows, but neither of them had gained the upper hand yet. He heard footsteps and the rattling of heavy armor. He looked around. A heavy armored knight was standing before him. 

"Your grace, I have news from the Sera Trench," he announced. 

"Speak, General Ulrich," the king impatiently said. He still looked around him, in case the two colossi came flying above them again. He could still their attacks colliding in the distance, but they'd flown too far. 

"Stalwart entered the trench with a regiment of twenty five hundred men," the general said. "Our archers managed to push them back, but we can't find the remaining soldiers." 

"As I thought," the king said. "He means to flank us from the east." 

General Ulrich's feet shuffled. "Your grace," he hesitantly said. "We just received word from the battalion we sent east. There's no trace of a Stalwart army in there." 

"THEN WHERE ARE THEY?!" The king screamed at the top of his lungs. "They couldn't have just... Vanished into thin air!" 

They heard a deep, sorrowful tone echo through the trench. The king recognized the war horn and turned toward the battlefield. His eyes frantically scanned the area. He saw his men scurrying away. 

 "What's this?" he shrieked. 

The horn blew once more. Its mournful cry made the king's hair stood on en. His heart raced against his chest. Cold sweat trickled down his spine. 

"No... This can't be!" he whispered. His men were screaming, shoving each other aside as they made for the hill. Horses neighed and reeled. He saw some movement above the trench. Some of his men, the remaining brave, were running toward Stalwart's men. 

Heavy mist still covered the trench. The king couldn't clearly see the enemy's men. They were supposed to be the ones retreating, not the other way around. 

The horn blew for the third time. This one lasted longer than the two that preceded it. The king held his breath as he listened to the mournful cry. What did this all mean? Were they losing? The king shook his head. The notion was unfathomable. Not again twenty five hundred men…

 "Why are they retreating?" The king whispered. 

He saw the brave men run toward the boulders and push them down the trench. He heard Stalwart's men shriek. The mist reduced the visibility over the land below the hills. He heard the boulders crash then there was an eerie silence. 

"WHY ARE THEY RETREATING?" the king screamed at the general. 

General Ulrich came close to the cliff and looked down. His eyes widened as he spotted something the king hadn't. "Your grace, over there!" He pointed at the Flat Plains, west of the hills. The mist had cleared from that area. They could clearly see the reason behind the retreat. 

Among the tall gra.s.s, a regiment of twenty five hundred men was marching toward the king's men. At their current pace, they would be upon them before they could successfully retreat to the hill. 

"That's marshall Eli," General Ulrich said. "His men are ruthless, bloodthirsty. They even say he commands an army of beasts." 

"Send reinforcements," the king ordered. "You stay with me here, with the reserves. Send Bastien with two thousand men down there."