Chapter 98: The Immortal? Or a Traitor?

The atmosphere in the Kingdom troops was grim, but an air of fury lingered with it. Most felt sad at the untimely death of their General and wished for nothing more than to avenge him. He had created them into true soldiers. Fought alongside them not hiding in the back and brought some of them out of the lowest depths of poverty the world could have.

Nasr had not thought about the effect his death would have. It was a cold anger that made the Kingdom almost perfect in their movements. Marcus played the act of an angered commander wishing for vengeance and ordered the troops as best as he could. His voice spread across the multiple fronts, overshadowing any other noise made.

Issac stood at his right, wearing a cold face. He knew the truth, but the anger that Nasr would even order such an act was enough to make him mad. Looking down the hill, Nasr watched as they went into position. The cavalry was off to the side and the archers came forward. They pulled their bow strings and shot up towards him but to little effect. Not only was he on a hilltop, but the wind favoured him.

Marcus called for another volley and seeing the same effect pulled them back, not wasting any more time or arrows and ordered the charge up the hill. His men ran in an organised line, attempting to block the arrow fire that came down on them. It was hard and costly, but the melee did come about. Blood began to spill, as the pained yells of men began.

Marcus led from the front like he usually would. His heavy sword fell down on the man in front, but his position was quickly replaced by another Safrid soldier. Despite this he watched, waiting for the perfect opportunity. He analysed the mood and numbers of the Safrids. They were happy and overzealous. The news of William’s death had been obviously spread and it was a great morale boost for them. They were more reckless but also more energetic.

Marcus scanned the line. He could see Nasr with his arrogant face, and pristine armour. A small smile rose on his lips seeing that the man had fallen for the lie but he knew that it wasn’t enough to win the war. He quickly manoeuvred himself left, passing through the lines. "TAKE OVER IN MY LOCATION!" Shouting at the commander whose place he wished to take, the man gave a nod and rushed to Marcus’s old location

Marcus threw himself back into the melee. With every swing of his sword, blood was spilt. He craved the bloodshed and pushed forward with every attack. Nasr stood behind the lines looking down at Marcus. He was aloof, commanding more men to charge forward. It was going perfectly for him. He needed more men to be committed against his attack. He wanted Nasr to act impulsively. He wanted him to think victory was all but assured.

Putting the whistle in his mouth, he blew hard once. His men took a step back, inviting more Safrid men to join the defence. Marcus, despite taking a step back, still was a God of War on the battlefield, cutting down enemies without seeming to take a hit. He still tried to charge forward and get to Nasr but he wasn’t stupid. He made it a gradual process, albeit one that would never work.

It was a style that differed from the Kingdom’s organised wall that they had put up in the city, Nasr thought. Instead looking like a large blood of men being thrown in hopes of breaking through. He gave a snort looking at the desperate attack. They should have kept to their previous way of fighting. Now they were slowly pushed back and losing more men they needed. Despite thinking this, his eyes very rarely left Marcus. The man was a brute who killed anyone who got close. Despite focusing on the fighting he was still able to organise his men and call for small retreats. It was as if he had six eyes that could scan the entire battlefield. It was his command alone that seemed to make it so the Kingdom’s army wouldn’t break or be overrun.

He had no knowledge of who the man was. He didn’t fit the description of a notable noble from the Kingdom, nor did he look like any famous warrior whose name would be known. He was an anomaly. He was the biggest threat to Nasr as of this moment with William dead and he knew that if Marcus died then the kingdom’s line would completely collapse.

Signalling those behind him, he ordered them to charge forward. Despite being spread, there was a noticeable majority being focused on Marcus’s location. Marcus could feel the massive weight hit his line, forcing them to take a couple of steps back. "MEN! DO NOT GIVE AN INCH! WE MUST AVENGE THE GENERAL!" His voice belted but it was a hard command for anyone to follow with the sheer number of bodies being thrown at them and standing on a hill.

Despite this, they held, barely. The Kingdom soldiers, veins popped but they made sure to not be pushed back any further. Their weapons tasted blood with each swing and they fought like ravenous beasts. Marcus laughed madly at this throwing an attack out. His feet had long since dug into the ground, but he paid it no mind. His only concern was holding until the right moment presented itself. It was close. He looked at Nasr who still was rooted in his position giving orders from the back.

He swung again and again, with a calculated madness. Each attack hit a vital or the gaps of amour. He needed Nasr to send one more wave. He needed the man to join the attack himself. Marcus didn’t give up. His breathing had quickly become heavy, but he attacked, a pile of bodies forming in front of him.

Nasr watched in horror. The man in exchange for a cut took a life each time. How many bodies lay in front of him, five, ten. Nasr couldn’t know. He didn’t seem to tire and his efforts brought more life into the Kingdom soldiers, who madly attacked. Despite the advantages, his men moved back inch by inch. It was like a second wind had afflicted all of them because of one man’s effort. The threat level of Marcus increased once more and Nasr knew he couldn’t let it stand anymore. As long as he lived the war was impossible to win, he would always find a way to reignite his soldiers. It was the final wave and this time Nasr drew his sword joining the fray.

Marcus smiled. He had to give it a minute. The weight on them increased once more and threatened to push anyone who wasn’t careful down the hill. Marcus counted sixty seconds. He needed to make it seem like a great struggle. He needed them arrogant and excited. The conditions had to be right. His men still held, but the wounds on his body were a telling sign of how things were going.’5...4...3...2..1’Marcus took the whistle in his mouth and blew four times.

Nasr watched. Whistles blew along the entire line and a mass retreat took place. "ALL MEN GIVE CHASE!" Nasr didn’t hesitate. His army swarmed down the hill with vigour trying to cut away at anyone they could get their hands on. It was the moment when he could end the war once and for all. Sure Alfred was still alive, but he had nothing left after this. His strongest ally was already dead and most of his force would be dead or scattered.

From the distance the Kingdom Calvery watched. "Let’s go," William spoke atop horseback to the others. They all learnt the truth just before the battle began and were excited for his abrupt arrival. More importantly, they were happy he was truly alive. The Kingdom’s armoured calvery moved once more.

Marcus ran his eyes never leaving the distance. The sun shot down and he could see the reflection of armour.’It’s time.’Taking the whistle in his mouth, he blew three times. The Kingdom men quickly came to a halt and turned to meet the Safrid forces. It was close and it showed as many were not ready and paid for it, but archer fire from behind gave them enough time to protect the retreating forces.

Marcus was swift and stabbed his sword into the heart of a charging soldier, quickly pulling it out to attack another. He looked at Nasr who still was coming down the hill and smiled. The man had not realised the trap. The Kingdom forces quickly got into formation whilst the front held. Nasr had been terrified of a pitched battle for this very reason, yet had given one in an impulsive decision.

Marcus held the whistle in his mouth giving the six-minute count the Safrid’s had dreaded in the city. He knew the front was tired still, he was one of them, but he had to give time for a perfect reorganisation after a feint retreat. He also had to create time for William’s arrival.

A cloud of red mist hung over the melee. Nasr could see that the Kingdom had reformed but he wasn’t too scared. He knew they had to hold at one point and was expecting them to reorganise. He had already forced a retreat once, he could do it again. Looking back up the hill, he could see his archers taking the perfect position. They had a clear line of sight downwards. Pulling back the strings, a volley flew blocking out the sun, the whistling of hundreds of arrows instilling dread in anyone who heard it.

It was a scary sight to anyone observing, but the Kingdom soldiers had prepared for this. They held their shields above their heads, creating a turtle shell for themselves. It was something Nasr had seen before, but it was still annoying. That being said, he wondered how long they could keep it up.

"SOLDIERS OF THE KINGDOM!" A booming voice cut through Nasr’s thoughts. His face went white in terror thinking he had heard a ghost. Looking in its direction he saw The Ammary General, sitting atop horseback, charging his soldier’s side. "DO NOT FEAR! THEY CAN’T KILL ME EVEN IN MY SLEEP, THEY WILL NOT KILL YOU!" William’s voice had a mystical effect. It somehow spread across the Kingdom soldiers who were distracted by the voice of someone they believed dead. Many looked over and saw the general in all his glory charging into the side of Safrid army. It had an instant effect, a loud cheer resounding throughout their lines as they attacked harders. For the Safrid’s it was confusing. They had been told he was dead. They had come into this thinking they had already delivered a decisive blow to their enemy.

Their Sulatn had given the news himself. ’Were they lied to? Was he immortal?’ The questions flooded every soldier’s head as they felt their heart race. Some angered at the betrayal of their leader, others in fear of an unkillable general. Few, knowing they had been betrayed. Nasr was one of them. His sword fell to his side as he watched William, cut through his men like soft cheese.

’Impossible. He’s dead.’Nasr felt his mind go blank. He forgot he was even on the battlefield, his eyes only focused on William’s face.’John’s men made sure. They brought back his finger.’Nasr’s eye twitched as the issue he thought he rid himself of came back,’Another traitor.’He broke into mad laughter looking at William. His men watched in fear wondering what happened to their Sultane,’They are all around me.’All looking at him thought he had gone insane. His laughter was hysterical, a concern for his life no longer existing.

William saw this and smirked. "THE SULTAN HAS GONE INSANE! ALL MEN PUSH!" His cry was less for his men but for the Safrid men, who looked for Nasr only to see or catch glimpses of a man insanely laughing.

’Yusuf, John, Aswad, Harun, Zahra, Ali. Everywhere I am surrounded by traitors.’Nasr broke. His mind no longer could focus on the war in front of him as his mind was flooded with ways of how he should kill John. Once more thoughts of Adrian entered his mind,’Could Adrian be one as well? It can’t be, but if John is one who’s to say."

"MY LIEGE! WE MUST GO! OUR MEN ARE BREAKING!" A man grabbed Nasr by the arm awakening him from his thoughts. Nasr looked him in the eyes with a cold glare but looked back down the hill. He saw his men, be pushed back, many surrendering on the spot. Nasr’s breathing became heavier and he felt his chest tighten.

’I’m being pushed back?’He was in disbelief. He was the one who had them on the run originally. They should be the ones breaking. "MY LIEGE!" The man grabbed Nasr’s arm once more.

"GET OFF ME!" With a cruel voice, he pushed him to the ground. "NO RETREAT!" Nasr’s voice boomed as he looked down. He couldn’t accept it. They were the ones breaking not him. He slipped up but it can be salvaged. "ANYONE WHO RETREATS SHALL BE EXECUTED! FIGHT!" His voice was explosive screaming the words.

One tried to push past; terror spread across his face and unable to hear Nasr’s words. True to his words, Nasr grabbed the man, stabbing his sword through his back. All that saw this gulped and turned, fighting the Kingdom men, terrified of Nasr.’I will win. And then I will deal with all the traitors.’

Nasr’s mind had been engulfed by his rage. William could see it. His men were being slaughtered in front of him yet he didn’t even budge. The Safrid men were done. Many surrendered and William wasn’t one to slaughter for no reason. Those who threw down their weapons were spared.

He rode over towards Nasr who raised his weapon. The man showed no fear, only an over-inflated confidence. William smiled at its sight. He couldn’t understand what was happening in his mind but for him to act like this after his arrival meant something must have come undone. Charging forward, William swung his sword down, as Nasr went for the horse’s legs. Being thrown over the top, he looked back pushing himself up. His ribs hurt and he believed a couple were broken. Nasr was unscathed. A wound ran down his arm but he avoided being beheaded in one move.

William had no time to pay attention to the pain he felt. He grabbed his sword and charged at the man. The two’s blades collided, but Nasr lost in strength, his wounded arm hindering him. It was enough for William to understand how to win. He aimed for the injured right arm, putting immense pressure on it. Arrows flew over him at the back lines of each enemy, creating a darkness for the two. The sound of metal clashing, blood being spilt, men screaming as their limbs were cut and the horrid ripping of the wind by flying arrows created a scene out of hell.

William knew that this duel would decide the fate of the Sultanate.