Bells sounded through Camelot. Each ring heralding a threat closing in on the capital. King Arthur Pendragon was addressing the Holy Knights, dressed in his golden armour. His sword, Excalibur rested in his sheath. Behind him, in wedge formation, were Holy Knight Grandmaster Nanashi (on his left) and Court-Mage Wesley (on his right). The snow was still falling hard, but not as hard as it was in the morning.

"A small army of monsters is advancing towards Camelot!" Arthur shouted, his voice was loud so all the knights could hear him.

There was whispers among the crod.

"They're not human, and when I encountered one I didn't sense it's presence to be a demon." Arthur then turned to Wesley and talked in a quieter voice, directly to the mage. "Anything you want to add?"

"Yes, my king. There is."

"No need to be so formal." Laughed Arthur.

"We are in public addressing the troops, sir. Formality is a must."

"Alright then. Tell them what you want to tell them."

"As the first to discover these beasts, I named them Azeels. I can tell that they are a manmade race. Furthermore, they are immune to fire. Holy Knights with magical powers linked fire are dismissed from this battle." Wesley talked quietly, but he had cast a spell that amplified his voice.

"Mages will follow Sir Wesley and I. We will protect the Northern Gates. Warriors will follow Sir Nanashi and guard the East Gate." Arthur ordered. "Disperse!"

Sir Nanashi took his troops to the east gate as instructed. Arthur commanded the troops to follow him and began heading north when Wesley stopped him. He pulled Arthur behind a wall so they could have a private discussion.

"Arthur, you're not planning on fighting, are you?"

"Of course I am! What kind of king would I be if I didn't?"

"What kind of king would you be if you died?" Snarled Wesley. "You only have one arm, and I must insist that you stay here."

"No. I can fight with one arm!" Protested the king. He was scared. Not of the fact that he could die if he went into battle with just one arm. He was scared that if he backed out of a fight because of his disability, he would have to back out of all the others. But Wesley seemed to pick up on this fear. He grabbed Arthur's hands and held them tightly.

"Arthur. Arthur, look me in the eyes. If you leave this to me, I swear on my life I will find a way to fix your arm. I am a powerful mage, I will be able to do it. The only reason Merlin couldn't is because her magic style is different than mine. But if you die, no amount of magic could undo that a second time."

Arthur looked into Wesley's eyes. They were fierce and intense. "I don't want you to die. You're a good friend. You saved my life, let me save yours!"

"Fine." Sighed Arthur. "But you owe me an arm."

Wesley nodded, and then walked away to command the mages.

"On me!" He bellowed. The troops formed a double-column line behind him.

'I lead the group of sorcerers that created these Azeels. But I suppose it's time to choose between staying with them or staying with Arthur; allow them to invade Camelot, or give up on the project I've put years of my life into.' Wesley thought. And then, like a beacon of hope on a field of darkness, the memory of Arthur's warm smile from the first day they met filled his mind. The choice was clear.

"MARCH!" He commanded. "We are about to go head-to-head with an unprecedented threat. Hold nothing back!" With a heavy heart, the mage led his troops north.

'I'll protect Camelot, and I'll protect Arthur. But I will leave the kingdom of Liones on it's own.' Wesley thought to himself. And an evil grin dawned on his face. Just because he had decided to protect Camelot from the azeels, it doesn't mean he would suddenly become a perfect angel. He thought back to the time when he first entered Camelot; when he murdered a jerk in cold blood. He laughed to himself.

'I can't wait for someone to give me an excuse to blow them up again!'

Wesley and the battle-mages of Camelot stood at gates. They could hear the creatures stirring in the thick forests, but none of the azeels were yet to be spotted. Not a single one of Wesley's troops were armed, but battle-mages have no need for steel.

"Those of you who specialize in rejuvenation magic will stay back and heal the others. Offensive mages will stand on the frontlines. Remember, fire will not work on them. Try to put them to sleep or immobilize them." Wesley and the mages peered into the forest. The sun was setting, covering the sky in a pinkish-orange. Wesley engulfed his hand in mana, and the other mages prepared spells of their own.

"AHHHH!" A shrill scream came from one of the mages. Wesley turned his head and witnessed a mage fall to the ground. More screams were heard. More fell to the ground. There were no azeels in sight, or at least none that they could see.

"They must be invisible! They're snapping people's necks!" Wailed a mage.

"How will we fight them then?" Cried another.

"Cast spells at random!"

It was absolute chaos. Spells were flying in the air, people dying left and right. The azeels that were hit had had their invisible taken away. But that wouldn't stop their brutal attacks.

Necks snapped.

Azeels died.

More necks snapped.

Less azeels died.

Necks snapped.

It was looking bad for the mages. Death hung over their heads like a loose chandelier hanging over a table, about to collapse onto the people sitting there. But then, a final hope came flying through the sky.

"Absolute Cancel!" A female's voice rang through the screams and echoed on the fray of the battle. Her Absolute Cancel spell had made all the Azeels visible, depriving them of their stealth advantages and allowing the mages clearer shots. Wesley looked up into the sky to see a woman flying over his head. She had a purple cape, and little clothing. Her black hair waving in the wind. On her neck, was a crimson tattoo of a boar.

"Master Merlin!" Shouted Wesley. His eyes were tearing with joy. For as of this moment, the Azeels had no hope of victory.

"For god's sake..." Laughed Merlin. "I leave for a week and this?"

With the famous Merlin on the battlefield, it wasn't long before the mages claimed victory at the north gate. But the warriors down east were not faring too well against the ruthless monsters.

* * *

Sir Nanashi grasped his katana tightly as an Azeel charged towards him on all fours. With calm resolve, he plunged the blade into the Azeel's heart, killing it instantly. The blood dripped down the blade and landed in a fresh, open wound on Nanashi's arm. No one knew this was possible, but the Azeel's blood would soon begin to spread through Nanashi's veins. What effects it would have on the swordsman, no one could guess. But it would not be pretty.