Kingdom of Power, of Courage, and of Wisdom

Dragmire's War - Riboku's Generation

-Link-

If there was ever a moment in the history of the War of the Seven Kingdoms that would define the ending of an age and beginning of a new one, if there was ever a moment worthy of being frozen, it was this. Generations of war, many hundreds of thousands of lives, all led to this singular moment. In reality, it lasted all of two seconds, but to those that witnessed it, it lasted years. They would go to the grave never forgetting the sight. Years from now, they would remember it as freshly as it happened, but history books would record it as a single line.

Riboku killed Ouki Mitagi.

Ouki coughed up blood, and his spear fell from his limp fingers. Harken pulled his blade from Ouki's chest, and blood fell from the open wounds. A quick sprite of a young man appeared between them, picked up Ouki's spear, and swung it at Harken. Harken neatly caught it in his hand. Meanwhile, the Englishman, drunken with fury, rode in and swung his sword at Harken. Harken had far more difficulty with the Englishman, as the man was incredibly skilled, but Harken tripped the horse out from under him, kicked his sword away, grabbed the man by the throat, and held him up.

The spell that froze everyone broke, and a complete frenzy erupted. Every man went for them. Every Qin either tried to grab Ouki or kill Harken. Every Zhao tried to mutilate Ouki while riding on the breath of Harken's strength.

Battle clashed all around the leading figures of the war.

Yet just as quickly as the battle recommenced, it stopped again when Harken dropped the Englishman, traded the spear burning his hand for his sword, and swung. In that single sweep, Harken's blade extended and cut down twenty Zhao. It was broken but could still extend a short distance.

"Enough..." Ouki whispered. "You won..."

"No. I didn't," Harken huffed. He briefly glanced at Ouki before baring his teeth at the Zhao. With each breath, his anger grew. He was fuming. He was angry. "They took my victory from me! They took you away from me!"

...Then I'll take you from them," Harken declared.

"You would betray your own men?" The Englishman wondered.

"You're making it sound like I'm supposed to care," Harken grunted. "They took his head away from me, so I will take it away from them. Bring him to die where he chooses, but do not let them take him. Do not give them that."

He walked into the ranks of Qin. The Englishman, Link, and Ouki were stunned silent. Harken didn't raise a hand; he simply walked past them and slowly moved into the Qin. Ouki's forces looked to each other with both confusion and fear, and they moved aside. A gap appeared before Harken and he strode through. Blood poured from his neck, his shoulder barely had any flesh to hang onto his torso with, his skull was cracked, and his body was burned and cut, but he was a Dragmire.

"How can he do this?" A man asked. "How can he just... ignore us... and betray them? It makes no sense. He acts like winning is a bad thing."

"He's a Dragmire," The Englishman said as if that was the answer to everything. Considering their family history, perhaps it was.

A moment later, when Harken quietly passed through the Qin ranks to where they fought the Zhao, he broke into a sprint and crashed into the Zhao ranks like a rhino. Men flew into the air or were trampled into the ground. Swords, spears, shields, and strength meant nothing to him. He was a force of nature unto himself.

Without Harken there to stop them, the Qin surrounded Ouki protectively. Seeing a chance, the Englishman did not miss a beat. "Get him on a horse!" He said. "We're getting Lord Ouki Mitagi out of here!" The men promptly grabbed Ouki and lifted him onto a horse. He was heavy: it took several men to lift him with his thick armor on. "Link, get on the horse with him."