The place was certainly guarded by Alician Troops, garbed in a wanderers outfit, Gael Jag wended his way inside the town; the kids bustling, their eyes trained on the airship that it was easy to walk passed them without alerting the troops. He made his way through the various throngs of alleys and mazes, kicking a pebble, listening to a musician, a peddler shouted, not minding the housewives that were grinding the wheat their husbands gave them. He noticed the clothesline, there was a paper flying past him, he caught a glance and saw that it was a pamphlet for surrender.

He entered a pub, the counter of the pub was uneven, the shelves were stocked, and the owner was tapping his radios. He noticed Gael Jag standing in the doorway, waving his hand, he pointed at the stool next to the bar counter. He wiped the uneven counter, his toothy smile showed in front of Gael Jag.

“Do the wolves still eat hens?” Gale Jag asked.

“Only the Dogs do,” the owner said. “Looks like you are one of us, comrade.”

“I am.”

“Hmm, I heard that most of our men were killed. What have you been doing?”

Gael Jag shoved a piece of paper to the Owner. The Owner took the paper, his eyes reading each line that was typed in the paper. His brows crunched, his forehead crumpled at the thought of the lines inside the paper.

“Half of our forces are gone, the supply lines are crippled, and they are planning to take our land as a battlefield? Have they had no heart? How could they possibly destroy our islands?”

“That’s what I want to know. Things are bad, and my efforts have been useless and have only angered the enemy. Do our comrades still hanging about?”

“They are, for the Love of Holy they are still clinging to the hope that we might able to do something. This, isn’t this saying that we can do nothing about our situation?”

Gael Jag joined his fingers. “I know someone that might be able to do something about this situation of ours.”

“Who might that?” He said. His eyes showed no trust.

“He isn’t here right now, but he does promise that if he could get near the enemy, then he will be able to deal with something that might just change the tides to our favor.”

“And how he would do that?”

“He has means to transport his body to my position, and strike that could dent the War Maiden herself.”

“I don’t believe you,” he said. “If someone like that exists, then why does he need our help? If he’s confident that he could kill the enemy, then why does he not sneak himself?”

“He’s not able to sneak near the War Maiden without being detected. He just needs to get near the place where the War Maiden is, and find her. If we stop her then it would mean that there is a possibility that we might be able to win against the odds.”

There was a look of disbelief in the eyes of the Owner. He knew what the War Maiden is capable of doing, he had seen the might of her army and saw how easily his island nation got captured within a few weeks. He was a struggler that wanted to believe that he could do something for his nation. But the truth was that it didn’t matter how powerful their will was.

“Do you really think we can hold to this hope, friend? You know, all the words that they spoke thought of our people as the criminals. That we, who should have left them alone, should have focused against the Empire instead of attacking the Legion of Monster Slayers! Do you know what happened to your King? They drag him out of the fields, with his head bowed, he was forced to apologize to the dead. Our King had been wronged, we know that it was the fault of those factions that forced him. Now his brother is going to be our King and he plans to wag his tail to the Empire that attacked us? Just because the War Maiden did so?”

“We already lost our King,” Gael Jag said. “Then, are you not going to agree after all? What need is there to fight when the King that we fought for has been kicked out of the Throne?”

“The King still resides in the area where the War Maiden and her forces are kept. His head will be presented and he will undergo a marching trial, with all of the people of the Empire, throwing stones at him. What kind of farce is this? For our Humble King, who had to manage to make things livelier and prosperous in our islands to be killed unjustly because of some mistake that he could not possibly prevent?”

“I don’t know what to say,” Gael Jag said. “I’ve been out of the grid for a while now.”

“It’s okay, comrade. You may hide the stains of blood under your shirt or the way your blade stinks of flesh. I will not call you ignorant for not knowing the matters of your nation. Still, you must have been fighting for too long out there.”

“I was trying to salvage any hope that I could find. But every outpost was already taken. Our forts, villages, and towns now belonged to the Alician Army. They broke the back of our nation faster than the Empire of Old. We fought the Empire and managed to live our lives without worrying. But now, the Alicians simply broke that delusion.”

The Owner’s head was lowered. His eyes grew cloudy. “I like to believe that we still can do something. We are warriors, and as warriors, we are fated to die a warrior’s death. So tell me, comrade, do you think that information will give us a chance to see hope again? How likely that it would work?”

He stared straightly into the eyes of this warrior. “I do not know. All I was told was that he could get in, take some short, and he might able to take this dangerous fate around.”

“Do you believe him?”

“Do I have a choice?”

Gael Jag smiled wearily, his fist clenched.