Edward exhaled, hoisting the blade onto his shoulder. “Damn degenerates. Every last one of you. I tried to tell you. Still want to fight? That wasn’t even my serious swing.” The army halted in shock and for a second they considered retreating until… 

“You men and women are the holy knights of the cross are you not!? Or is it you’ve all become cowards shitting your pants after one swing of a sword.” A lone knight shouted as he walked forward from the center of the crowd. “If you’re a coward run home with your tail tucked in between your legs, if you’re a warrior surround him! I’ll face him in single combat. Kill him at your earliest convenience.” The knights began circling Edward as they made a path for the lone knight to walk through. He met Edward in the center, the sun glistening off his helmet as he threw it to the ground. 

“You’re either strong or suicidal, we’ll find out soon enough which you are. Now would you like to state your name or die a nameless grunt? Your choice.” Edward asked, running his hand through his hair. 

“I’ll bless you with my name as a parting gift before you die.” Said the knight as he drew his sword. “My name is… SIR RICHARD LIONHEART!” he roared as he fearlessly charged forward. Sir Richard Thrusted his razor sharp sword at Edwards skull, going for the kill. 

Edward’s eyes snapped open in shock; he was lost in thought for a moment. “Sir Richard Lionheart? Can it be the man that was once my father’s best friend? Ugh! Damn it! No matter, I have to focus!” Edward’s body moved on instinct, narrowly dodging the blade. He side stepped as Sir Richard’s blade missed his skull and cut into his cheek. “Whew! You almost had me there gramps you’re no ordinary-!” Edward was interrupted as blood exploded from his lips in a splatter. He looked down in disarray as he saw ten blades poking through his chest and stomach from his back. The ten swords looked like twenty as his vision began to blur from blood loss. “Ha. So in the end the undefeated Edward Blair was done in by some sniveling cowards and a relic of an old man.” He continued as he walked forward, the blades slowly getting pulled from his body. “TSK! Your only mistake was not hitting my heart directly. While I still draw breath. Before I kick this damn unforgiving bucket. I’ll do what I set out to do. I’ll. Kill. ALL OF YOU!” in the blink of an eye Edward twirled his sword and stuck the blade into the grass giving him something to hold his body upright. As blood leaked from the holes in his body he knew he was out of time. “I’d rather die on my feet with pride after you’re all dead, then have my death be told as a battle lost to you snot nosed lunatics. Who ran me through from behind like cowardly dogs no less. Ha. I forgive you but the reaper won’t. PREPARE TO DIE A COWARDLY DOGS DEATH YOU BASTARDS!!!!!” 

Edward screamed with everything he had as he looked up at the sky one last time. It was so beautiful, as he looked up at it and smiled, time seemed to slow down. Edward lifted his hand up to his mouth and bit into his thumb in what would be his last action. “Shadow magic — hands of the dead!” as a drop of blood left his thumb and hit the grass a huge black magic circle appeared under the feet of all fifteen-thousand remaining knights. As they broke formation attempting to flee a black wall of smoke formed around the circle closing any chance of escape. The smoke was two-thousand feet high, one-thousand feet higher than the wall so all could see. The knights ran around the circle like trapped rats begging for a way out. Nobody answered their plea. Finally, it was the end of those fifteen-thousand cowardly men and women. Black demonic hands rose from the ground ripping every last knight in the circle limb from limb in a bloody massacre. 

The knights screamed in horror begging for a god that wasn’t there to answer the call. The battle field was covered in blood, limbs and entrails within seconds and with his last dying breath Edward had won. Even in death he stood tall never letting his knees touch the bloodied grass. The color was missing from his lifeless eyes as he stood looking at the beautiful sky gripping onto the hilt of his sword. In his final moments he pictured his father training him in the huge beautiful field behind Blair manor in the Cross Kingdom. A smile depicted on his face, the sun shined the brightest on a man who deserved better. 

Edward sacrificed himself so that Twenty-thousand men didn’t storm his small village. It all seemed worthless as thirty-thousand more broke through the other gates. Asher met the force on the west, Maximus greeted the force on the east and Artorus charged straight into the force at the north. “I must finish up here and go help Edward!” Said all three brothers unknowingly in unison. 

The west gate.

The army got through the gate only to be met by a single man sitting on the floor with his legs crossed drinking from a gourd. They were caught off guard as the Asher stood stumbling around before speaking. “I’m all out boys, do ya know where a man could get another drink around here?” He asked the commander of the squad before burping into his face. 

The east gate. 

“Is this a joke?” one man from the army asked. “A single man with a toothpick for a weapon? This is insulting!” Said another. 

“I apologize for disappointing you. Why don’t I atone for that sin by turning your heads into kabobs on my toothpick?!” Spat Maximus in contempt, a bloodthirsty glare pricing the army like daggers. 

The north gate. 

“Everyone get into the passage I’ll defend your escape!” Shouted Artorus. As the knights flooded in he drew his sword from his back preparing for the battle. “Fear not! A real man stands tall with his chin up and chest out!” He spoke smiling.