Despite the victory against the troll, the human army was overrun; their ranks were broken both by the massive creature and the numerous rankbreakers, and they were outnumbered by the Ur'gluns.

  The formation was nonexistent at that point, and the ur'gluns swarmed like a black tide of havoc and destruction, led by the Morkaag, who swung his heavy blade and shattered the armor and the shields on each blow.

  Henry charged straight towards him, but his spear broke against Morkaag's thick chestplate, and not even a second passed before he was knocked out by a blow of a heavy iron shield to his head, and after a handful of moments, the battle ceased, and he laid unconscious among the broken remains of the human army, and the cavalry was now surrounded on one side by the black rugol legion and on the other by the horde of Ur'gluns led by Morkaag and his rankbreakers.

  All of them were surrounded except the very tip of the formation that broke through and charged towards Nal'zuk and his guards.

  "Brace your spears!“ Yelled Nogryl as he led the charge and prepared for a clash, and the knights lowered their lances and prepared for the battle.

  The hooves of their armored horses roared like thunder, and the rain of arrows poured on them, but the arrows broke against their heavy plate armor like the waves break against the shore.

  Each of the knights that rode through the night was covered with a faint golden glow, and each one of them saw Nogryl holding his sword high above his head and his lance in the other.

  With no doubt, the death awaited them, but fear has not gripped their hearts, and they had enough bravery to spare for one last charge to decapitate the dark hordes by slaying their leader, Nal'zuk.

  The knights clashed against the formations, and many men and the horses fell dead, and many rugol guards were pierced by the deadly lances.

  Nogryl's steed led him straight through the guards towards Nal'zuk, and his spear found its way through the chest of Nal'zuk's wolf and killed him instantly, yet the ur'glun survived, and the guards bashed Nogryl off his horse, and he fell on the cold blood-stained ground.

  Nal'zuk's guards were more numerous, but the knights managed to cull through them one by one while Sir Daymon swung his hammer and crushed helmets and skulls. His blows were heavy, and the sound of creaking iron and cracking bones screamed on every swing, as around five rugols lay dead at his feet, but soon enough his body was pierced by a spear, and its wielder pushed him straight to the floor. Knowing it was his end, the brave knight gripped his hammer tight before the rugol sword ran straight through his missing eye into his brain, killing him instantly.

  On the very front of the human formation, Nogryl laidon the floor surrounded by the Nal'zuk's guards, but before they could end his life, Aryon dashed from his horse, and with a single motion of his hand, he summoned a burst of intense golden light that blinded his foes.

  As Nogryl stood up on his feet, he saw the grand paladin swing his heavy blade and cull the forces of darkness. His movements were fast and deadly, and his sword trailed with a golden glow with every swing. Even the most elite rugol warriors were no match for him.

  But out of the mist, Nuula came dashing towards the paladin and landed a blow against his armor with both of her blades in a single spin. Both of the combatants were fierce; their blades clashed in front of them at a pace that no mortal eye could even follow.

  Aryon clearly outmatched Nuula in his might, but her fighting style was much more nimble, as she dictated the pace of battle, now retreating and now engaging her foe.

  Yet Nogryl had no time to watch the fight; instead, he chased after Nal'zuk, who escaped towards the dense woodland. Alwin was there too, chasing after the Ur'glun warchief beside Nogryl, and they both left the battle behind them.

  The fog was thick, and they ran shoulder to shoulder, chasing Nal'zuk, who seemed to disappear in the distance, and his silhouette grew more and more dim.

  "I'll catch him first; just come after me to ensure his defeat!“ Alwin yelled and started sprinting, and he easily outpaced Nogryl. As they ran, they entered a shrubland, and shortly after it, the Weeping Woods. The trees were thick, and the paths between them narrow, and Nogryl could no longer see Alwin in front of him, nor could he see his sworn enemy; he only saw the thick fog and trees and a narrow trail between them.

  Seemingly lost, he followed the trail deeper into the woods. For a second he thought he lost them, but he could hear the sound of clashing steel in the distance, and he rushed in that direction, approaching closer to its source.

  Before he arrived, the sound had stopped, but Nogryl still went on. After a short while, he entered a broad clearing, a glade in the middle of the woods, which in this area were many. The fog was dense and the night was dark, but he could see Alwin leaning against a tree ahead.

  "You lost him?“ The knight questioned and approached his friend. But the closer he approached, the more clearly he could hear the sound of his cough, and he could see the river of blood pouring down his chest. It did not take long to realize that Alwin's body was pierced by a thick black arrow, stuck to a tree behind him. The man held his hands around the arrow and coughed blood as his long brown hair waved in the wind.

  "Behind you, Nogryl!“ He murmured with his last breath, and when Nogryl turned around He saw Nal'zuk standing in the middle of a glade. It was just two of them now, Nogryl and Nal'zuk, facing each other before a fight in which only one of them may leave alive.

  Through the thick fog, he could clearly see Nal'zuk's half-burned face. He was not a large beast, but his dark armor and cape, and his maimed face beneath his black hood, looked intimidating nonetheless.

  Noryl pulled his sword from its sheath and grasped it tightly. He was clearly an experienced swordsman, and he went through many fights, but he was not a patient man, so he charged into the fray with his sword held tight in his hands.

  He roared loudly, and the sound of his feet striking the ground was heavy and powerful, and on the other side, Nal'zuk drew his swords and charged as well.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  The hero of mankind brought his blade upon his foe with a powerful overhead swing, and Nal'zuk parried with both of his blades, but the force of the swing was strong enough to break through his block, and Nogryl's blade clashed against his armor.

  The blow was heavy, and it managed to break through the black iron plate and leave a cut across Nal'zuk's chest, but the wound was not deep enough to stop him.

  The ur'glun staggered to a side, and Nogryl lifted his blade once again and swung towards him with all the hate from his heart, and the might of his steel broke one of Nal'zuk's blades and crashed against his shoulder.

  The strike was powerful enough to send him tumbling to the forest ground, and without a moment to waste, the knight lifted his blade above his head to strike him down and end his life.

  as he lifted the blade, the gap in his armor was exposed, and Nal'zuk pulled out a crossbow from his back and shot a bolt through the Nogryl's chest. It flew through him like lightning and left his body through his back, and after a moment, the hero of mankind fell on the ground and bled.

  "It all ends here, filth!“ Nal'zuk yelled through his crooked teeth as he approached wounded Nogryl.

  "With you dies the last light of hope for mankind!“ He added, "Not a single damn soldier will find courage to face us now that their hero is dead!“ The Ur'glun warchief hissed, but Nogryl just grasped his blade tight in his hand and spoke his last words:

  "I will be their hope even in death.“ The blood poured down his armor like a crimson river, and his vision quickly darkened as he fell on the ground, grasping his sword tight in his hand.

  While his soul departed from his body, the night was cast away by the rising dawn, and the morning star appeared on the horizon.

  Those that die a glorious death depart the world of mortals into the realm of souls to meet their fallen friends in the gardens of the gods.

  He saw a bright heavenly realm around him, celestine skies and clear white clouds around, as he ascended upwards. And above the clouds, he saw a massive gilded keep, surrounded by cloud islands and a large garden, in which the trees were made of glittering crystals, and their leaves reflected the memories of thousands of lives of the mortal heroes that passed away.

  Among the trees he saw Sir Victor welcoming his friend Daymon among the crowd, and they all stopped for a moment as they witnessed Nogryl join them. They were not alone; the gardens were filled with many faint and dim figures of different men and women, a crowd that laid many layers of clouds in what resembled a forest of the crystal trees around the keep. And on top of a keep was an enormous golden figure that stood on its main tower. It was distant yet larger than any of the mountains that Nogryl has yet seen, and it resembled a man with a sword.

  It was clearly Xorael, raising his sword with a gem socketed in its crossguard, and the round yellow gem shone so brightly that it became apparent that it's nothing less than a morning sun that brought the dawn from the east.

  The forest among the clouds was not the only one; each of the clouds around them had its own forest inside a large, dim pearl that surrounded it like a bubble, and the river of souls was flowing straight from Oxendell to the realm above, like a silver tower of glittering light that was flowing upwards, with many twists and turns, it was the souls of the slain that earned their honorable death.

  Nogryl approached his fallen comrades, and they awaited him with welcoming smiles. Among them was Alwin too, who had just recently fallen in battle in the dark woods below.

  "Where is Henry?“ Norgyl asked, and all of the fallen knights looked down upon the world of mortals.

  Below the heavens in the world of mortals, the break of dawn scattered the mist above the field, and thousands of dead bodies laid broken on the ground, most of them dragged around by ur'gluns to be consumed, and the surviving ones taken as slaves or sacrifices for Goru'noth.

  But among them, wounded Henry opened his eyes and saw the morning skies above as someone dragged him across the battlefield by his foot. Upon closer inspection, it was no one else than Morkaag, and beside him was Nuula, apparently negotiating with the ur'glun.

  "Let me bandage his wounds, brother! The prisoners are worth more alive than dead!" She yelled, and Morkaag dropped him

  "Do as you wish while I search for other survivors!" The large ur'glun removed his helmet and yelled, before downing a skin of ale, wiping his mouth and continuing his search.

  Henry passed out after a couple of moments as his wounds bled, and he was dragged underground, far from the sight of the fallen comrades above. The realm below was cold and dim, and the dripping water echoed through the empty caverns, and Henry could not make out much from what was happening around him.

  "Am I descending to the underworld?“ He thought as he opened his eyes and saw the complete darkness around him while he was being carried. Moments later he woke up gasping for air, and he found himself in an empty dark chamber. His limbs were numb from his wounds, and he could not move, and his body was covered in blood and sweat.

  Deep in the darkness he saw a spark of the light, and another one after it, and he could hear the sound of two flints clashing against each other, and after a couple of moments, an oily wick had caught the flame inside the lantern that illuminated his surroundings. It was clear that he was not in hell, for he was not dead yet. His wounds were covered with crude linen bandages, and he laid on top of a pile of animal furs, and beside him was Nuula holding the lantern.

  "Where am I?“

  "You are safe." she replied;

  "I've traded one of the wounded knights for you. Morkaag was satisfied with a good deal, a knight for a pawn.

  "But why?“ The wounded man asked.

  "You've spared my life, don't you remember?“ In that moment everything was clear to him.

  "You can stay here until you are strong enough to leave, then I shall lead you to the surface, and you can go your way." Nuula whispered and placed a warm lantern beside him before caressing his hair with her hand.