Thor looked over to see a Nevarun raise a double-handed axe high overhead and bring it down for O’Connor, who lay there, prone. He was about to kill him. Thor swung his palm in his direction, and directed a ball of energy at him. The soldier went flying, backwards, off his feet, dropping his axe and falling into the chasm, sparing O’Connor. Thor spun and directed his palm towards another soldier who was lunging his sword for Reece’s back, and he managed to stop the man’s arm in mid-air, allowing Reece enough time to spin and strike the man with his sword.
Thor spun again and again, stopping all the Nevaruns from attacking his friends, sparing each of their lives and allowing each of them to prevail, and kill their attackers. The battlefield began to quickly shift, with only a handful of Nevaruns remaining.
Thor was beginning to feel optimistic when suddenly he felt a great blow on his back, like that of a hammer, smashing into his armor, and knocking him down to the ground.
He hit the ground hard and rolled to his feet to see their leader, facing him, wielding a two-handed war hammer in just one hand. In his other he held a long chain, dangling from his palm, which he swung overhead. He wore a malicious smile. Behind him, Thor could see Gwen, tied to his horse, forced to watch, helpless, eyes opened wide in panic and desperation.
“You thought you could steal my girl from me,” the man growled down to Thor. He swung the chain around his head, and Thor raised a palm to use his energy to stop it.
But for some reason, his magic would not work against this man. As Thor jumped to his feet, the chain continued to swing through the air, wrapping around Thor’s ankles again and again; the warrior yanked it, and Thor fell flat his back, his feet tied together, helpless on the ground. Thor did not know what power this man wielded, but it was intense, unlike any warrior he had ever fought.
While Thor lay there, helpless on his back, the warrior stepped forward, raised his hammer high, and brought it down right for Thor’s face.
Thor rolled out of the way at the last second, and the hammer sank deep into the earth.
Thor sat up, feet still bound, and reached over to draw the sword on his belt.
But the warrior backhanded him before he could draw, knocking him back down to the ground.
Thor lay there, his head ringing, defenseless on the ground as the man stood over him, extracting his hammer from the earth, and raising it high again. He was prepared to bring it down right on Thor’s face. Thor lay there helpless, and there was nothing he could do.
“Say good night, young one,” the warrior said, smiling wide.
Suddenly the hammer froze in mid-air, as the man’s eyes open widened.
Thor at first was confused; then he saw an arrow pierce the man’s throat, protruding out the front.
The warrior stood in place, frozen, holding the hammer high as blood gurgled from his mouth, dripping down his chest.
Then he dropped the hammer, landing on his own head, and collapsed onto the earth, right beside Thor, dead.
Thor looked up to see Gwendolyn. She sat there on the horse, holding a bow and arrow, having just shot the man. She had somehow managed to sever the cords that bound her wrists, and her hands trembled as she looked down at Thor.
Thor loved her more in that moment than he could ever say. He sat up, unwrapped the chains at his feet, and ran over to Gwen, jumping up, mounting the horse, feeling her arms wrap around him, her head lean into his back, and feeling overwhelmed with relief. She was safe. And they were together again.
Thor surveyed the battlefield and saw three Nevaruns left. One was being finished off by Elden, the other by O’Connor, and the final one fought hand-to-hand with Reece. As he watched, Reece suddenly slipped and the warrior prepared to bring his sword down.
Thor galloped over to him, and before the soldier could chop off Reece’s his head, Thor pulled a short spear from the horse’s saddle and hurled it. It pierced the man’s back, came out the other side, and he collapsed to his knees, dead.
Thor sat there on the horse, with Gwen, and looked around. It was a field of carnage, filled with the corpses of thirty Nevaruns, demarcated by the chasm of the open earth. Pools of blood were everywhere. Three were only five Legion members left alive, in addition to Thor: Reece, O’Connor, Elden and the twins. They were all wounded, exhausted, breathing hard. But they were all victorious.
Thor raised a single sword high in the air, and the thrill of victory rushed through his veins.
“LEGION FOREVER!” he yelled out.
The others turned and raised their swords in response.
“LEGION FOREVER!”
CHAPTER THIRTY THREE
Andronicus rode his horse in a rage, leading his vast army along the edge of the Canyon, heading north, marching for the Eastern Crossing of the Ring. As he marched, more and more Empire troops filled in behind him, arriving in droves from his fleets of boats landing on the shores. Andronicus had been deeply embarrassed by that McCloud prisoner who had duped him, who had led him to believe that he knew the way to breach the Canyon. It had been years since Andronicus had been duped by anyone, and he realized that his overzealousness to cross had allowed him to be weak, to be fooled. His body still shook with rage at the slight, even though he had already killed the man. He wished he could find a way to track down the man’s family, and kill them, too.
As Andronicus rode, he was more determined than ever to breach the Canyon somehow, to wreak havoc on the Ring, to make all these humans suffer. Yet without being able to cross, there was little he could do. He knew that it was a futile mission at this point, that all of this mobilization had been for nothing. Yet still, he hated the idea of just turning back and leaving this place, of going back home in disgrace. Especially now that all of his men were here, and more and more were arriving with each moment.
He figured he could at least work his way up to the main McCloud crossing, the bridge guarded by all those McCloud soldiers, and see if perhaps he could goad any of them to walk out from the safety of the Canyon, if any of them were that stupid. Maybe he could torture one or two of them. Maybe even kill some more. That might at least appease his mood.
Andronicus could also use the opportunity to test the Canyon again, just in case there was a breach somewhere. He could throw some of his own soldiers over the edge, and see if they died. Who knows? Maybe, just maybe, he could find a chink in the armor somewhere.
Andronicus rode slowly, the sound of thousands of boots marching behind him in unison, as he proceeded along the edge of the Canyon. Finally, they turned a bend, and he saw his objective before him: there was the Eastern Crossing of the Canyon, hundreds of McCloud soldiers lined up alongside the bridge, all the way into the McCloud side. What Andronicus would give to be on that side of the Ring. He could taste it from here.
Andronicus saw the McCloud troops tense up as his army approached the main entry to the bridge. He led the way, all the way up to the very edge of the Canyon, standing but feet away.
A tense silence hung over the two armies. The McCloud soldiers, wisely, stayed on the bridge, on their side of the energy force, not daring to leave the protection of the Canyon.
Andronicus nodded towards one of his commanders, and the commander shoved forward several soldiers, who charged for the McCloud men, swords drawn. The ten unlucky soldiers charged right for the bridge-but the second they crossed the line, onto the bridge, entering the mystical air of the Canyon, all ten of them were eviscerated, burned alive, and fell, nothing but ashes, down at the feet of the McCloud soldiers.