The Four Generals were dead.

  I stood amidst their dead bodies, breathing heavily, the plating of my armor slick with blood.

  I looked up at the White Hill command tank where the remaining four generals and the two Lieutenants tensed, their hands dropping to their weapons, ready to swarm me.

  Axehill raised a hand.

  The White Hill elites then took a synchronized step back.

  Axehill looked down at me from atop the metal beast. His face was unreadable. The blinding rage he had shown at City Hall was gone, replaced by a terrifying calm.

  "You have proven yourself, Kaz," Axehill said. "You are a coward no more. You have become a pest, an annoying mosquito."

  He stepped off the tank, landing on the ground with a heavy thud.

  "And because I respect pests," Axehill continued, reaching into a glowing storage ring on his finger, "I will make your death quick."

  He pulled out a weapon.

  It was a railgun, similar to the one Amoto had used, but it was much bigger. It was bulky and colorful. The energy around it warped and distorted. It was the upgraded model.

  He leveled the barrel at my chest.

  "If you survive this," Axehill said, "the duel will begin."

  "Oh, fuck!" I yelled, trying to dive, summon a wall, anything.

  Axehill pulled the trigger and a beam of condensed, multi-colored light shot out from the barrel.

  I didn't even have time to blink.

  A microsecond before the light consumed me, a sliver of silver flashed through the air.

  A scalpel, vibrating at a hyper frequency, struck the very edge of the energy beam, the kinetic disruption was infinitesimal, but against a beam of that density, it was enough.

  The trajectory shifted and angled upward, missing my shoulder by an inch, and shot into the sky. It exploded into a rainbow light show that painted the clouds in neon colors, illuminating the entire battlefield in a surreal glow.

  Both Axehill and I turned our heads to the right.

  Lying prone in the mud fifty yards away, covered in dirt and clutching his side, was Siegfried. His arm was still outstretched from the throw.

  "Siegfried, you beautiful bastard!" I screamed, a manic laugh escaping my chest.

  Axehill lowered the massive gun, looking at the doctor on the ground, then back to me.

  "You have interesting generals, Gardener," Axehill noted and tossed the heavy railgun aside. It vanished back into his storage ring.

  He drew a sword.

  "Let the duel commence," Axehill said. He pointed the blade at me. "My Path is the King of Heaven's Four Corners."

  I summoned my own sword.

  "My Path," I said, "is Heavenly Gardener."

  We stared at each other for a second. Then, we both started to laugh. It was a laugh at the sheer absurdity of the matchup. The Heavenly King versus the Heavenly Gardener.

  "Let's see how strong I really am," I said.

  "Dominion."

  I built a super suit.

  Verdant Jade Bamboo wrapped around my body, bulking me up to eight feet tall. Moss fused into the joints, pulsing with golden energy. Razorgrass coated my forearms like chainsaws. Two Sky Piercer bamboo tubes mounted themselves on my shoulders like rocket pods, and Mandrake roots wired into the helmet.

  I was a walking jungle.

  "Vines!" I commanded.

  Two thick vines shot from my wrists, anchoring into the ground behind Axehill and I used them to slingshot myself forward, breaking the sound barrier as I flew at him, my bamboo sword raised for a decapitating strike.

  Axehill tanked it and swung his sword, meeting my strike in mid-air.

  The impact cratered the earth beneath him, but he didn't give an inch.

  I let go of the sword, twisting my body in the air to land behind him.

  "Cage!"

  Bamboo sprouted from the soil, instantly forming a dense prison around Axehill.

  Before the wood could even fully harden, Axehill flexed.

  The bamboo shattered into splinters and he smashed his fist into the ground, sending a shockwave that dug a massive pothole into the earth and threw me off balance.

  He looked at the sword in his hand, sighed, and tossed it away.

  "Too slow," he muttered.

  He rushed me with his bare hands and closed the distance instantly.

  I fired vines from my suit, wrapping them around his wrists and ankles to restrain him. "Glacial Gourd!" I yelled, venting sub-zero air onto his constrained limbs, freezing the vines into solid ice blocks.

  Axehill flexed his biceps and the ice shattered like glass.

  He stepped into my guard, pulled his fist back, and punched me square in the gut.

  The force of the blow was cataclysmic and my bamboo super suit caved in. I flew backward through the air, skipping across the dirt like a stone on water for fifty feet before crashing into a ruined wall.

  I looked down. There was a hole in my armor, and a hole in my stomach. I could see the grass through my own abdomen.

  But the Dao of Growth was quick. Green steam hissed, and the flesh, organs, and wood knitted back together in five seconds.

  I stood up.

  "Squash!" I yelled.

  Twenty Explosive Heavenly Squashes materialized in the air around Axehill. Before he could move, I shot a vine, wrapped it around his waist, and yanked him directly into the center of the minefield.

  "Detonate!"

  The explosion was deafening and a massive plume of orange fire and smoke rose into the sky.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  I waited, breathing hard.

  Axehill walked out of the smoke. His clothes were singed, but his skin wasn't even scratched.

  He rushed me again.

  He threw a right hook. I ducked, the punch skimming the top of my helmet, the wind pressure alone cracking the bamboo. I pivoted and delivered a roundhouse kick directly to his face.

  My foot connected and his head snapped to the side.

  He slowly turned his head back, looking at me with dead eyes.

  "My turn."

  For thirty minutes, we danced.

  The entire battlefield stopped. Eden soldiers, Cloud fanatics, Cove witches, and White Hill elites all lowered their weapons to watch the two faction leaders tear the landscape apart.

  We ran, leaped, and crashed across the corridor.

  And within the first ten minutes, I realized a terrifying truth.

  Adan had been right. My limit was the 4th General.

  I stood absolutely no chance against Axehill.

  He wasn't just strong; he was perfect. He seamlessly switched between tactics and fighting styles. When I kept my distance, he pulled throwing spears from his ring. When I closed in, he used grappling techniques that bypassed my armor. When I used arrays, he disrupted the Qi flow with precise strikes.

  He was a one-man army.

  No. He was the King of Heaven's Four Corners. Heavenly Gardeners don't beat people with titles like that.

  After thirty minutes, the epic duel devolved. I stopped trying to attack. I was just running.

  I sprinted across the battlefield, throwing walls of bamboo behind me, launching blind Sky Piercer volleys just to slow him down. He smashed through everything, walking after me like a slasher movie villain.

  The rest of the armies, realizing the spectacle had turned into a chase, resumed their own battles, ignoring me and Axehill once more.

  "Think," I told myself, regenerating a crushed shoulder as I vaulted over a trench. "Think!"

  I couldn't defeat him in battle. My HP was infinite, my stamina as well, but my speed was not. Eventually, he would pin me down and rip my heart out.

  I didn't need to beat him. I just needed to remove him.

  That's when it hit me.

  The prize.

  I scanned the battlefield, tracking the frantic movements of my First Division.

  I spotted Bells. He was fighting on the front line, using wind blades to keep a squad of White Hill elites at bay.

  "Bells!" I screamed, altering my path and sprinting toward him. "The Ziggurat! Give me the Ziggurat!"

  Bells heard me and didn't ask any questions. He reached into his tactical pouch, pulled out the miniature purple pyramid, and hurled it through the air toward me.

  Axehill was closing in, just ten feet behind me, his fist raised for a lethal blow.

  I shot a vine from my wrist, snagging the Ziggurat out of the air and used the momentum of my sprint to spin, transferring all my kinetic energy into the throw.

  I hurled the artifact directly at Axehill.

  Axehill saw the projectile and his combat instincts kicked in. He stopped his punch, crossed his arms in an X, and braced to block the impact.

  But you can't block spatial magic.

  The Ziggurat hit his forearms and a beam of blinding purple light shot from the tip of the pyramid.

  Axehill vanished.

  The Ziggurat fell to the mud.

  I collapsed onto my back, my bamboo armor dissolving into dust. I lay there, staring at the sky, my chest heaving.

  Across the battlefield, the White Hill Generals and Lieutenants saw it happen. They saw their invincible King disappear into a toy.

  Without Axehill, the foundation of their confidence crumbled. They were strong, they likely still had the numbers and the power to push through my exhausted lines, but they lacked the will. White Hill wasn't a nation of believers; it was a cult of personality centered on strength. And their strength was gone.

  Horns sounded from the White Hill lines.

  They turned and formed up, maintaining perfect discipline even in retreat, and began the long march back east, toward Warren.

  I forced myself to sit up and threw my arms into the air.

  "YES!" I screamed. "We did it!"

  I had defeated Axehill! I had defeated White Hill!

  (I didn't actually. I had cheesed a fight against a man who was exponentially stronger than me using a magic box. But history is written by the victors.)

  At that exact moment, a cheer erupted from the West.

  Lily, floating high in the air, delivered a concentrated beam of black energy straight down into the Beast King. Amoto, his hybrid body broken and bleeding, looked up at the light.

  He spread his clawed arms, smiled his toothy grin, and uttered his dying words.

  "And scene."

  The light consumed him.

  On the flanks, Qolius, his yellow skin practically burning with exertion, released a massive "KNOCK" chant that hit the Harvest Fleets like a tidal wave, flipping their rigs and sending the nomads fleeing into the deep woods.

  The battlefield fell silent, save for the groans of the wounded and the crackle of distant fires.

  Then, the cheering started.

  Eden soldiers, Cloud fanatics, and Cove witches screamed in triumph. We had held the line and survived the apocalypse's greatest convergence of power.

  Even Misty, hovering on her broom, allowed a smile to cross her face as she looked at the retreating White Hill army.

  Everything settled down.

  An hour passed.

  The armies began their journeys back. The Cove loaded their unpaid labor onto barges and flew south. Cloud, chanting prayers of victory, marched back to the fortress of Grand Rapids.

  Me, Bells, Sal, Frank, Joakim, and Siegfried were left alone on the ruined field of the Green Corridor.

  Siegfried was moving quietly among the remaining Eden wounded, casting stabilization arrays.

  The rest of us were sitting on a chunk of displaced concrete, drinking water and catching our breath.

  I held the small purple Ziggurat in my hand, tossing it up and catching it.

  "What am I going to do with you, little Axehill?" I asked the toy, grinning. "Maybe I'll put you on my desk and use you as a paperweight."

  Sal laughed, wiping grime from his forehead. Joakim chuckled.

  A noise came from the Ziggurat.

  Bells leaned forward, a smirk on his face and tapped the surface of the pyramid.

  "What are you trying to talk to us, Axey?" Bells taunted. "Don't bother. We can't hear you, and you're never getting out of there. Enjoy the prison cell, tough guy."

  As soon as Bells finished the word cell, the Ziggurat vibrated violently in my hand and a fist connected with Bells’ face.

  Bells was thrown backward like a ragdoll, skipping across the dirt and lying completely motionless.

  I dropped it and the artifact hit the concrete, splintered, and exploded into a million shards of purple light.

  A shadow fell over us as Axehill stood in the center of our circle.

  He was drenched in sweat, his chest heaving, his clothes torn and his knuckles were bloody and raw.

  He was enraged.

  "What the fuck!" I screamed, scrambling backward, my mind rejecting what I was seeing. "How is that even possible?! That was a pocket realm! You broke out of a pocket realm with your fists?!"

  Joakim and Sal were speechless, paralyzed by fear. For the first time since I met him, Siegfried looked worried and stood completely still, his scalpel hovering over a bandage, realizing that biology had no answer for this.

  Axehill rolled his shoulders.

  "It's time to finish this," he growled.

  He stepped toward me and raised his bloody fist.

  I had nothing left.

  I closed my eyes.

  A sound like a hurricane tearing through a wind tunnel deafened us.

  I opened my eyes.

  A purple jet was hovering ten feet off the ground, its VTOL thrusters scorching the earth.

  The side ramp lowered and Mister O walked down, wearing a pristine suit, twirling a cane. Mayor Holson walked beside him, her arms crossed, looking furious.

  And behind them both, moving with precision, was Majors.

  "This war," Mayor Holson said, "is over. You have done enough damage to my state."

  Axehill ignored her and swung his fist down at my head.

  Majors blurred and appeared between us. He raised a hand and caught Axehill’s punch.

  The shockwave cracked the concrete beneath our feet, but Majors didn't budge an inch. He held the King of Heaven's Four Corners effortlessly.

  "Do not do something you will regret," Majors stated.

  Axehill strained against the grip, his veins bulging, but the robotic knight was immovable.

  Axehill glared at me, then at Holson.

  He spat on the ground at my feet.

  He ripped his hand away from Majors, turned, and bent his knees then launched himself into the air, jumping miles into the sky, arcing toward Warren.

  Mayor Holson glared at me. "I thought I made it clear I didn't want to see Detroit fighting itself again. The consequences of this mess will be handled at the emergency summit tonight. Do not be late."

  She turned and marched back up the ramp.

  Mister O paused at the bottom of the ramp and looked at the shattered remains of the Ziggurat. An amused smile spread across his face.

  "Clever thinking, Kaz," Mister O chuckled.

  He turned and walked onto the jet while Majors followed, and the ramp closed. The jet shot into the sky, disappearing into the clouds.

  I sat there in the mud, looking at my unconscious general, the broken artifact, and the empty sky.

  "It's been a long week," I said.