"FIRE!" the War chief roared from the battlements.

  A black rain of arrows fell from the sky, blotting out the sun.

  "HOLD!" Ruther shouted, raising his shield.

  . The shields locked together. A roof of steel.

  The arrows rained down like hail on a tin roof.

  But let it rain as much as they want. As long as they are together.

  In the crushing weight of the shield wall, Alan didn't scream.

  He just gripped his sword and thought of a bruise on a wrist. 'Not today,' he whispered. 'I am going home.

  They moved closer. Closer.

  Until there wasn't much space between them and the walls of the castle.

  TYPE 4! FIRE!" The magic users on the wall summoned hills of stone.

  Boulders rained down.

  Shields broke. Men were crushed.

  Some were killed instantly. But the line didn't stop. They stepped over the dead.

  "NOW, SHYN! NOW!" Ruther screamed.

  "FIRE!" Shyn commanded from the rear.

  Thousands of arrows flew up. They didn't just pierce; they were dipped in green poison. Wave after wave. They didn't stop.

  They knew speed was their only friend.

  On the walls, the Type 4 mages screamed as the poison took them.

  The archers ducked, hiding behind the stone battlements.

  "LADDERS!"

  Wooden ladders slammed against the stone. The defenders tried to push them off, but Shyn's archers pinned them down.

  The street kids started climbing. They moved like rats, fast and desperate. Some fell. But others... others got to the top.

  The massacre started. It wasn't a battle. It was butchery.

  And rage... is the biggest motive of all.

  The sound of iron on swords didn't stop. It was a symphony of metal.

  Ruther got to the top. He killed the captain guarding the mechanism. "THE GATES!"

  The army pushed. They massacred the guards inside the gatehouse. The heavy wood groaned. The gates opened.

  "FOR THE GLASS WORLD!"

  "FOR THE GLASS WORLD!"

  The shout shook the stones. The "Wings poured inside the walls.

  They ran with stolen horses, picking off what was left of the soldiers in the First Layer.

  The First Wall was down. But the Castle was made of Three Layers. Most of the rebels got through the first.

  But the Second Wall was higher. Thicker. No one could get to the second. It was a slaughter zone.

  On the other side... there was silence.

  Deep underground, Andree started showing the entries.

  20 Openings into the heart of the castle.

  500 men at each opening. They waited in the dark. Breathing quietly. Waiting for a sound.

  Above them, the Castle Soldiers were running to their places on the Second Wall.

  They were laughing. They had seen peasant revolts before.

  "Look at them run!" they jeered. "Let them break themselves on the stone!"

  They heard the screams of the rebels. But they didn't hear... that.

  Ruther stood on top of the conquered First Gate. He saw the stalemate at the Second Wall. He took a horn from his belt. He blew it.

  BWOOOOOOOOOOM.

  The laughter stopped.

  The ten thousand men from the sewers emerged. They were hand-picked. The strongest. The biggest.

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  They didn't hold swords. They held Axes. They weren't ready for a battle. They were ready for a massacre.

  Malik was with them, running taking legs with him as he did.

  And he was laughing while doing it.

  They stormed the soldiers from behind. The screaming started instantly.

  On the walls, the Archers turned around, confused by the noise behind them.

  "FIRE!" Shyn shouted from the top of his lungs.

  The arrows rained down non-stop.

  The Archers, facing the wrong way, were cut down before they could raise their bows.

  The ten thousand went to work.

  The soldiers’ hands were gone; they had never seen an axe in a fight before.

  The axes took heads like they were tearing paper.

  "KILL EVERYONE!" Andree shouted, his face covered in blood.

  "NO ONE BREATHES IN THIS CASTLE EXCEPT US!"’

  The killing didn't stop until they reached the Second Gates. They pushed, crushing the defenders against the wood.

  Andree ran forward. He saw a Captain who had killed some of the men.

  He threw an axe at his head.

  It buried itself in the Captain's head. The man froze, brain matter dripping from the side.

  Andree walked up, grabbed the hilt, and kicked the body off his blade cleaning the axe in the captain clothes.

  "OPEN IT!" Andree roared.

  The heavy gates groaned and swung open.

  Ruther stormed through the Second Wall, leading the main army over the bodies of the defenders.

  "WE ARE TAKING WHAT WAS TAKEN FROM US!" Ruther roared, his voice shaking the stones.

  "WE ARE THE MEN THAT HISTORY WILL WRITE ABOUT!"

  Up in the tower, the War Chief watched the gates open. And for the first time... he swallowed hard.

  "MARCH, MY MEN! MARCH!"

  They marched toward the Third Wall—the Final Wall. There were few soldiers there. Only Nobles.

  The marching sound was music to the army. But to the Nobles, their kids were crying and elders were thinking about killing themselves.

  Ruther stood before the final gate. He looked up at the terrified faces of the elite.

  "ROAR, MY MEN!" he commanded. "ROAR FOR EVERY DROP OF BLOOD! ROAR FOR EVERY GIRL PRIDE!"

  "ROAR FOR EVERY ELDER THAT HAD TO LICK THE GROUND FROM HUNGER!"

  He pointed his sword at the Warchief.

  "THE KING GAVE YOU CONTROL OVER US! HE SHOWED YOU MERCY!"

  "AND YOU USED THAT TO KILL US! YOU MADE US INTO TOYS FOR YOUR JOY!"

  "I GIVE NO SUCH OFFER. I WILL SHOW YOU NO MERCY."

  "YOUR SKULLS WILL BE CHAMBER POTS FOR OUR FILTH!"

  "BUT YOU, WARCHIEF... YOUR SKULL WILL BE MY NEW CUP!"

  "NO ONE WILL BE SPARED! EVEN YOUR WIVES... WE WILL TAKE THEIR BONES AND MAKE SWORDS! YOUR CHILDREN..."

  "THEIR BONES WILL BE MADE INTO SPOONS AND FORKS AND KNIVES!"

  "WHY SHOULD WE SHOW YOU MERCY WHEN YOU DIDN'T SHOW US?! EVERY SOUL YOU KILLED... TEN WILL BE TAKEN FROM YOU!"

  The Nobles ran in terror. Even the soldiers on the wall started to pee themselves.

  “The winter came and took the weak, we watched the elders fall!” Ruther started.

  “THEY LAUGHED! THEY LAUGHED!”

  “They sat upon their velvet thrones behind this very wall!” Andree shouted.

  “THEY LAUGHED! THEY LAUGHED!”

  The iron studs groaned

  “They thought our spirits turned to ash, they thought our blood was thin!” Shyn continued.

  “But fire only hardens steel—" Ruhter continued.

  “—and now we're coming in!” Merk and Leo shouted together.

  “AND TODAY! WHEN THEIR YOUNG ARE KILLED!” Ruther said.

  “WE LAUGH! WE LAUGH! WE LAUGH!”

  “They bound our hands in heavy chains and told us we were low!” Strang said.

  “They taught us how to work the dirt, but forgot to watch us grow!” Andree said.

  “THEY ALWAYS THOUGHT THAT WE WERE SLAVES!”

  “BUT WE BECAME THEIR GRAVES!”

  The central beam cracked

  “FOR THE YEARS OF SILENT HUNGER! FOR THE DEBTS THEY NEVER PAID!”

  “TODAY WE MAKE THEIR HEADS PAY—” The Five Generals roared as one.

  “A LOT! A LOT! A LOT!”

  The gates exploded open. The screams grew louder than the song.

  The army poured in. No one was spared. Men. Women. Children. Everyone ended up with metal in their necks.

  Ruther didn't care about the slaughter. He left that to the boys. He cared about one thing.

  He moved through the crowd, climbing the stairs, kicking open doors until he reached the Throne Room.

  The Warchief was there.

  And when he saw Ruther, he got his swor—

  He didn't finish. Ruther didn't break stride.

  He had thrown his sword like a spear. It buried itself in the Warchief's head, pinning him to the throne.

  Ruther walked up to the corpse. "You talk too much," he whispered. "For a dead man."

  The Five Generals came together.

  They raised the heavy oak table of the dead Warchief and carried it out to the balcony.

  Ruther stood on it. Below him, the army roared, chanting his name.

  He raised his hand. Silence fell instantly.

  "TODAY! WE WERE MEN!" Ruther shouted. "TODAY, WE SHOWED THEM WHAT WE ARE MADE OF!"

  "NONE OF THE OTHER REALMS COULD DO THIS! BUT WE DID IT!"

  "AND TODAY, WE ARE FREE! FREE FROM SLAVERY!”

  “NO MAN SHOULD BE A SLAVE TO A MAN! NO MAN SHOULD BE A SLAVE TO ANYONE... EXCEPT GOD!"

  "TODAY, WE WROTE HISTORY! SO, DRINK, MEN OF HISTORY!"

  He got down from the table. "Good speech," Andree said, handing him a bottle.

  "The usual," Ruther smiled.

  "Don't get too full of yourself, man," Leo laughed.

  "Like, when should he do that if it's not now?" Merk argued.

  "No," Ruther said, his face serious. "He's right. Everyone did well today.”

  “I wouldn't have taken these walls alone. We took them together."

  Andree tried to open the wine. "Hey," Ruther said, stopping him. "Sorry. But can you delay your drinking?"

  "And why is that?" "I need a report," Ruther said. "How many men were killed today? I need their family names. And such."

  "Not a lot," Merk said. "At least not from my team. Max 200, I think."

  "Yeah, me too," Leo sighed. "Maybe 150 horses and two hundred men."

  "I am better than you Leo."

  "Not much from my men," Shyn said. "Sixty at best."

  "Two," Strang said. "Just two. Stray arrows."

  "Because you were on the back line!" Merk said.

  "If an attack came from the back, he would have saved you." Andree defended him.

  As they were arguing, an old man walked up to them. "Yes, sir?" Strang asked.

  "Who is that?" Ruther whispered.

  "It's the barman," Strang whispered back. "He's 80 years old. The oldest.”

  “And they say the wisest."

  "They say a lot of things, my son," the Old Man smiled.

  "Then you should be our leader," Ruther said.

  "No, my son. I can't be. You have done what we elders couldn't do." The Old Man bowed his head.

  "I actually came on behalf of the people. To ask you... to be the King."

  Ruther stepped back. "The King? Me?" He shook his head.

  "No. I decline. Any of the Generals would do a lot better. Right, guys?" He looked at them.

  Leo rubbed his neck. "I wasn't brave enough to confess to the bar girl that I love her. How can I be a King?"

  Merk shrugged. "I can't think when people want me to think. I can't be a King."

  Strang pointed at his stomach. "I don't focus when I hear about food."

  Shyn crossed his arms. "I can't talk to people with a good tone. And I can't give speeches."

  Andree sighed. "And I... I can't bring myself to do a lot of things that are necessary."

  They all looked at him. "You are the best of us, Ruther," they said together.

  "So," the Old Man said. "Be our King, my son."

  Ruther looked at them. At the city.

  "Fine." He straightened up. "But my first order as the king... is that you are my brothers. And you should call me Ruther. Not 'King'."

  The Generals grinned. They saluted. "Okay, King Ruther."

  Ruther's eye twitched. "You sons of a—"

  They all pointed at the Old Man. "Language, King Ruther!"

  Ruther dusted off his hands. He looked at the sunset. "Anyway,"

  "I should get going before it gets late."

  "Haa?" All five generals and the Old Man stared at him.

  "I'm going back home," Ruther said, walking to the stairs. "What's so strange?"

  "Hello?" Leo said, stepping in front of him. "You are the King. You get that, right?"

  "Yeah. But this isn't my home."

  "It is your home!" Strang shouted. "Like... what?!"

  "You know you can't be underground," Andree pleaded. "Like, if someone needs you... what's going to happen?”

  “'Excuse me, does the King live in this drain pipe?'"

  Ruther shrugged. "Send me a letter." He tried to walk past them.

  "You aren't moving from here," Shyn said.

  He signaled. They all grabbed him. "Hey!" Ruther shouted, struggling. "Get off me! I am your King!"

  "You're our brother!" Leo grunted, holding Ruther's arm. "And brothers don't let brothers live in sewers!"

  They pinned him to the Warchief's fancy chair. "Old man!" Merk shouted. "Get us a rope!"

  "You are all traitors!" Ruther laughed, struggling against five men. "Mutiny!"

  "We are going to get the only one who can get you back to your mind," Leo panted, sitting on Ruther's legs.

  He looked at Andree. "Go get the Princess. Tell her the King is trying to escape."

  The Old Man got the rope. And in seconds, the Conqueror of the castle was tied to his own chair.

  The door opened. Andree walked in, leading the Princess. She looked at Ruther, tied up. She put her hands on her hips.

  "Oh no, not again. “Ruther said.

  "Woman," Ruther started, "listen—"

  "You told me," she cut him off, "that we were going to live in a castle."

  "Yeah! But... I meant, like... in the servant's quarters! It's cozy!"

  "You are the King," she said, pointing at the floor. "Everything in this city is yours. You get that, right?"

  "Yeah, but like..."

  "No buts," she commanded. "We are living in this room. From now on. No negotiation."

  The Old Man leaned over to Andree. "Hey," he whispered. "Is this... normal? She is talking to him she is his mom."

  Andree leaned back, smiling. "It's their romance, I think.”

  “We stopped thinking about it the second time it happened."

  Ruther sighed, he looked at his Generals.

  "So," Ruther said. "You guys. Where are you going to live?" They looked at each other.

  "In the sewers," Leo said. "It's home."

  They stopped. Ruther was smiling.

  "Well," Ruther said.

  “As the King of this city... I will give each of you a house. In this castle." The Generals froze. "And I order you to live in it."

  He glared at them. "Any objections?"

  Leo's jaw dropped. "You son of a—"

  "Ha!" They all turned. It was the Old Man, pointing a finger. "Language!"