The Legend Of Black Eyes 257 Thine Justice Shall Prevail 2

The obsidian scythe grazed the angel's wings. Black particles sizzled off the wing as silver feathers crashed against the ground, their size and weight created a crater the size of a horse. 

Pontiff Nari's angelic face contorted in pain. Her oblong shaped eyes narrowed, making for an unsettling sight. She retracted her wings then dashed toward Hartwell. The latter thrust his scythe forward, but Nari ducked underneath it and continued her approach. 

As she got close enough to Hartwell's chest, the latter jumped backwards and pulled his weapon toward him. The obsidian blade whistled as it made its way toward the Pontif, who spread her wings behind her back then punched the champion of death in the chest. 

The scythe collided with the silver wings in a loud metallic clank. Hartwell lost his grip, and the angel winced in pain. The scythe got stuck in Nari's wings, sizzling as black smoke floated in the air. She shook her wings and the scythe, as long as some damaged feathers fell on the ground. 

Hartwell was still flying backwards. He couldn't control his pace. All he could do was brace for the upcoming blows. He collided against tree after tree. Each time Hartwell collided with one, the latter would turn dark, wither then dissipate into thin air. Nari dashed forward, while the ordinary soldiers watched with gaping mouths.

Pontiff Nari flew above them in pursuit of Hartwell, while the Bishop and Stalwart were engaged in a fierce battle of their own. The Bishop's Archangel had lost two hands. Stalwart's dark angel was no better. His deep purple armor was bent and dented. The horn that protruded from the helmet was long gone. 

The Bishop had two swords left at his disposal. He was holding the crimson one on his right hand and the violet one on the left. Stalwart dreaded the violet sword. Every time the Bishop swung it, it would play a high pitched noise that pierced his eardrums. 

It was a tune specially made to weaken him, Stalwart could feel it. For the first time in many years, Stalwart couldn't read through an attack's properties. He didn't know what kind of energy the sword relied on, nor could he see through it. 

The Bishop swung his deep blue sword once more. Stalwart winced as the constant, high-pitched ringing pierced his eardrums. His eyelids forced themselves shut. His muscles twitched, forcing him to fold in half. He was forced to bring his hands to his ears to dampen the high pitched ringing. 

The Bishop made his move then. The violet sword disappeared as he held the crimson one in both hands. He swung it as soon as he got within Stalwart's range. A rose with giant s.h.i.+ning petals popped out of thin air and engulfed the mad wizard and his angel. The Bishop's sword collided with the rose, and the latter lost one petal. 

Only five remained, covering a folded Stalwart. The Bishop heaved the sword up and brought it down once more. The petals suddenly opened up, and a purple beam shot through it, piercing the Bishop's right shoulder. He staggered, and his hold against the ringing faltered. 

Stalwart shot out of the rose and swung Luna in a diagonal motion. The Archangel's wings coiled around him. They looked like a light curtain draping the colossus. Luna sang a sad tune as it collided with the Archangel's ethereal wings. A loud boom echoed in the air. Earth shook and trees swayed dangerously. The Archangel's wing began dissipating while the Bishop let out a terrible roar. 

Earth broke. Deep ravines swallowed the men stationed in the Flat Plains. The trees bent, almost flattened against the floor. The soldiers on the king's side were in worse shape. They were all forcefully flattened against the floor. King Nicholas's head turned as he collided with a desk in his tent. 

Elsa stood with great difficulty then adjusted her clothes. "Your grace…" She was begging. "There isn't much left to do here. I can get you out of here. We can still beat the mad wizard." 

King Nicholas rubbed his throbbing head. "I will not abandon my people…" he said with a clenched jaw. 

"Sire, if I may…" General Ulrich interjected. 

The king waved his hand, giving the General permission to speak. "We all swore fealty to you, and to this nation. If you fall, the kingdom falls. Some of our men may survive this war, but who would they look up to if there is no leader to hold their hands? 

"I beg of you sire, leave with Lady Vogel. People already venerate you. You are King Nicholas the Brave. Live… That's the only way to hurt the mad wizard. People will follow your lead, especially because you fought him, and lived…" 

The king sighed heavily. He looked around him helplessly. He knew what he had to do, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He smashed the desk and his head throbbed, reminding him of the fierce fight above them. 

Stalwart had retreated right after cutting the Archangel's wings. The Bishop always had a deadly riposte to any attack from Stalwart. Every time the angel suffered a blow, the sky would rip open. A beam of light, so wide it could cover a hundred thousand soldiers, would shoot out of the rift and pursue Stalwart, giving the Bishop enough time to recover. 

The mad wizard escaped the beam twice, but not without great difficulty. This last beam was going to drain him of energy before he could outrun it. 

"You're really getting under my skin," Stalwart screamed. He turned around and faced the upcoming beam. He was instantly engulfed in the blinding light. 

The Bishop had just recovered. The injury to his wing made him lose balance and fall to the ground, crus.h.i.+ng the king's eastern regiment. He got up in time to see Stalwart disappear within the light beam. His eyes got glued to the spot the mad wizard was in. He spread his senses, expecting the mad wizard to appear in any direction. 

'They've departed,' Pontif Nari's soothing voice rang inside his head. 'You can go all out.' The Bishop roared. His voiced echoed from Rolar all the way to Merinsk. 

Sam lifted his head. He thought he'd heard the Bishop's roar. He looked back at the capital's direction then shrugged. 'The wind must be playing games with me,' he thought. 

They had just departed. He was leaning against a railing while Osgar screamed orders at his crew. Wojtek joined him. He looked happy, carefree. It reminded Sam of his childhood. "Whose champion are you?" he asked. 

"Chieran," Wojtek replied. "I was sent here to help the Supreme Leader." 

Sam's heart skipped a beat. "You too?" he asked with a heavy frown. 

"I was told you could help me," Wojtek said, smiling. 

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