Who was this man that could command such respect, yet look so strange? His clothes looked so foreign that they made no sense, and his appearance led her to wonder if this man had been on a diet of gra.s.s and nothing but for his entire life.

She felt worried, despair filling her heart, as she watched him walk forward and grab one of the bows laying against the barricade.

"Sir, we do not have any arrows left, it's useless," came the voice of one guard, as he watched the stranger test the bowstring.

This guard held the same hopelessness as Feya in his eyes and heart. He knew that this was going to be a gruesome ma.s.sacre, and had only stayed to buy time for his family.

Nathan smiled as he marched forward, eyes looking out at the soldiers ready to march to their deaths. His gaze came to rest on the guard that had sputtered out nonsense.

"Who is the leader of that group?"

The guard seemed to be taken aback, looking over at the giant beast obscured by the enemy's rear-guard. The same beast that carried the archbishop, his a.s.sistant, and his slaves.

"That person, on the throne, just over two sectors away." The guard answered earnestly, but couldn't help but wonder what the strange man intended to do.

"Good, just a moment then," Nathan said, pulling the bowstring back.

The guard suddenly understood.

"One bowshot is accurate for only half a sector at the most!" he sputtered, wondering what G.o.d gave this fellow the b.a.l.l.s to try something like this.

The guard continued to talk about how ridiculous the situation was, word after word, as Nathan pulled bowstring further, his mind coaxing the power of the word through him.

"Listen to me. We are fighting today. Not for the end, but for a bright start!"

He needed to give these hopeless idiots something to chew on for a moment, else the guard's distracting words might distract him and cause a misfire.

He grew the power from the word as a bright yellow light slowly formed in the arc of the bow, stunning those watching his actions. As his fingers released, the arrow of light flew from the bow, shattering the wooden frame in an instant. The loosed arrow sped up, faster and faster until it broke the sound barrier with a deafening boom.

Death was oncoming!

The Archbishop sat in his chair. l.u.s.t filled his eyes as he dragged one of the chains towards him, not paying any heed to the upcoming battle. His a.s.sistant would rolled eyes as he looked towards the general who also wore the same expression of disdain.

"General, can we get this started and finished?"

The general nodded his head, ready to begin. As he was about to issue the command to charge, he noticed a frail man with bow in hand, aiming directly at them. He was such a far distance away that it was laughable. A few of the other generals started to chortle in response.

"What is he- s.h.i.+t! Get down!"

His words came too late, as he watched the Archbishop stop, his hand dropping the chains as he gasped for air. Everyone looked on in horror, as they saw the ma.s.sive gaping hole in the middle of his chest, almost five inches in diameter. The entire back of the Archbishop's throne had also blown out with the power.

The Archbishop rolled from the seat, sliding off the side of the beast, crus.h.i.+ng several unfortunate soldiers below. The general's a.s.sistants flew into a panic as they gazed at the man in the distance who had killed their boss. They rushed to flip over tables and chairs, hiding behind their slaves and doing anything in their power to break line of sight.

The general himself stood watching the frozen battlefield. Everything had s.h.i.+fted, as the soldiers now stood paralyzed in fear of the man who could obliterate someone from such a distance with a shoddy bow.

"Is he a DemiG.o.d?"

He had heard and even seen the Dusk Mistress before, during one of her speeches, before he was a.s.signed to the vortex after a campaign failure. She had an aura of power and strength that gave people hope. Although, she also had a nasty streak deep within her heart.

The general's eyes shone as he looked at this man, his power flowing during this shot. Something inside the military man gave him profound hope, as he knew he had to join this new DemiG.o.d and serve by his side. Perhaps the creator G.o.d had sent someone to help after such a long time. He needed to get his daughter, and find those loyal to him. He had to get plans into motion!

"What are you all doing! Soldiers grab some bows and fire! I order you all to fire!"

The a.s.sistant to the now deceased Archbishop had become the de facto leader at this point, and started to give orders. The general nearby, however, let out a small hiss when he realised he did not have enough time to counter the order. Soldiers had already pulled up their bows, aiming at the man.

"Fire!"

Tw.a.n.gs of bowstrings rang out as the arrows launched into the sky. The general's central unit launched their arrows into the air. The orange desert sun was blotted out by the black dots of arrowheads, each one s.h.i.+ning with deadly intent.

"Eat that, you stupid archer!"the a.s.sistant to the Archbishop screamed, his face contorted in pleasure, an ugly sight for anyone close enough to watch.

It was not long, however, before his face turned from joy to sheer horror. Suddenly, thousands upon thousands of arrows stopped dead. They sat floating in mid-air as the man who fired the bow earlier held his hand to the sky. It became evident that he was holding back all the arrows with just one hand, power erupting from him. His body was engulfed in white light that cascaded around him, even flowing down the cliffs.

Quiet weeping could be heard from the a.s.sistant, apparently having a breakdown in the face of this nightmare foe. The trained military was terrified, but as disciplined soldiers, they continued to fire volleys, only adding to the grim scene.

"Stop! Halt firing!" the general warned, knowing something terrible was about to happen.

He gave a secret command to retreat his troops rapidly, before the first volley had even landed, and by now he could see his forces pulling away. At least, the ones that were still loyal to him, roughly over one-thousand troops had already made their retreat.

"This cant be good... Bring the s.h.i.+eld unit here!"

General Lee Shee had always hated being right, and today was just not his day.