Author's Note: Well, here's chapter 43; chapter 44 will be here maybe by March, most definitely before April (I hope).

Chapter 43

The morning was new, the night was gone, and the day soon to be known has "Dies Mortuorum". The sun burned like it did in hell. It seared blades of grass and glinted off of armor--the armor of warriors marching to battle.

Martin stood with his troop. He glared at the trees in front of him. They were regular trees, but beyond them lay a terror unbeknownst to them. Boar sat at the head of the army, with spear in hand, armor on paws, arms, footpaws, chest, and hind legs. His helmet lay loosely off his left paw. The rest of the army awaited command. Boar placed his helmet on his head, and tapped his spear against the ground three times. The army took one step.

Boom!

In perfect unison, the footpaws hit the ground, causing the earth to shake.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The army continued to march. Some women sobbed into their sleeves, but the warriors did not dare return to them.

Somewhere within the ranks, Rose stood, pink-pommeled dirk in hand, with a big helmet to conceal her identity. Martin would not let Rose come to battle, regardless of what she would say. She decided to remain alone in the ranks, as one of Martin's soldiers. Being under his command made her feel safe.
The army reached the forest, and they broke off into groups as they walked. A few archers went ahead to pick off spies of Vulpuz, but they did not see anyone. The army continued to march.

The forest filled with a low rumble, and birds began to scatter through the trees.

Gonff leaned over to Martin, "That's not good, is it?" Martin shook his head. Vulpuz's scouts will see them. Now they know we're coming, but I don't care."

Gonff nodded.

The army was relatively silent for the rest of the walk. Those who weren't as nervous as rabbits were headstrong and silent. Sauvin shared neither emotion. He stood in the front, Ranguvar at his side, who was attempting to be frightened so that Sauvin would comfort her. Her attempt failed miserably. She grunted and kept on walking.

Soon, the forest began to thin, and the twinkle of the Onyx gates met their eyes. Martin had never seen it before. He gazed left and right, seeing that it seemed to go on into infinity. They had come down directly facing the gate, and Boar smiled. Martin blinked.

"Where is the enemy?"

There were a couple of mutters going through the crowd. Martin glared nervously to their lefts and rights. They were surrounded. Their backs were covered, their sides were covered, and they had only one place to run; Hell.

Boar kept the army organized to his fullest power, but the entire army knew the danger they were in. Vulpuz darted out in front of the army with an enormous shield. His head poked out from behind it. "Well, well, well. I see you have come and joined us. Sadly, we have your three exits covered, it seems. There is but one way you could escape us, however."

Boar gritted his teeth and put his paw on his sword handle. He watched as Vulpuz took a small brown sack out of his robe pocket. The fox pulled from it three small green orbs. Turning around, he placed them in three sockets on the gate. The orbs caused the lock on the gate to click off and clatter on the ground. The gate swung open inwardly.

Vulpuz smiled. "Welcome to my home, friends."

This was the last straw for Martin. He drew his sword and shouted. "We belong in there as much as a frog does in fire! If there was ever anything that deserved such torture, it was the very beasts that were released from there in the first place!"

Vulpuz smiled. "That doesn't matter any more, now does it?" said Vulpuz, laughing to himself. "What matters is who will be in there in a few moments." Martin glared at the fox, cradling his sword hilt. Before he could issue any orders, Boar was shouting.

"Draw weapons! Archers head to the middle! Get ready to fight!"

Martin was shocked that Boar would try to take on such numbers with only one place to go. Apparently, so was Vulpuz. The fox blinked a few times and then darted back to his horde. Martin repeated the orders to his officers, who yelled it out to the lower ranked beasts. Vulpuz also shouted aloud.

"Draw your weapons and slay these insolent fools! You have them outnumbered and surrounded!"

Boar shook his head, raising a big horn to his mouth. He blew it, and the noise echoed through the forest, and it halted the hustle and bustle of the potential battle. Soon, there were quiet shouts from the forests. They grew louder and louder, and eventually, movement was detected.

Then, from the depths of the trees, rushed a long line of mice, otters, and whatnot. Martin glanced around. It dawned on him. Nearly half of their army was missing! The other half had obviously been ordered to stay behind while the rest marched forward.

Martin laughed to himself. Now Vulpuz, after thinking he had surrounded them, was sandwiched between two armies.

Chaos broke out. Boar shouted, "In the name of all that is just! In the name of all that is right! I command you to charge! For your friends and family! For your loved ones! For the young ones! Raise your swords and let them fall into the flesh of the enemy that stands to destroy everything you hold dear! ChhhhhhaaaaaaAAAAAAARGE!!!!!!!"

Martin raised his sword and hollered, and soon, the entire army was making a riot. There was no mercy. There was no blood, but there was death. Light burned the eyes of everybeast who slew that day.

Martin grunted as he slashed through the flimsy armor of a ferret. Blood trickled from the wound, but when Martin delivered the final blow, the blood disappeared. His eyes burned with rage as he slashed, hacked, and sliced his way through the vermin's army. It was a very confusing battle. Vulpuz's army was sandwiched between two others, and the army on the inner edge was forced to clip up through the middle. The goal was to keep the other army against Hell. They would be forced to retreat into it.

Martin moaned. "We can't do this!"

Boar had managed to fight his way over. "You're right! Martin, We have to go into Hell!"

Martin glanced around. He hollered to his captains. "Hey! Gonff! Derin! We're retreating!"

Gonff waited for his victim to disappear before he lifted his knife. "Eh? Where we goin', mate?!"

Martin whirled his sword to avoid being cut down. "We're goin' into that fiery place behind us!"

Gonff roared in anguish. "Do you mean we've lost?! I won't just stand around and watch the nasty varmints win! There's no way!"

Martin laughed. "You don't realize it! After we retreat, we'll be in Hell, but the vermin won't be able to win! If they shut the gates on us, they defeat us, but the rest of the army has them against the gate! If they shut it, they're toast!"

Gonff laughed. "You were always the trickster, eh, mate?"

Martin grunted as he engaged a fox's spear. The fox dove at his legs and tried to slash him, but Martin jumped into the air and shoved his sword into the back of the fox's head. He looked up in time to see a weasel ready to plunge a dagger into his heart, but he burst into light before he could follow through with his attack. Standing behind the weasel was a small warrior with a dirk. Martin smiled his thanks.

"You saved my life!"

The warrior didn't bother responding, but seemed to spend much of her attention in getting away from him. Martin cocked his head slightly in confusion.

Boar sounded the trumpet, and Gonff and Derin shouted out to the lower ranked warriors. The word was out, and Martin's army backed into hell.

Mortspear laughed. "Ha ha! We've won! Now we just need to shut the gates and we've defeated them!"

Vulpuz glared at him through his slitted helmet. "No, it's a strategy, fool. They're trying to get us to shut the gates. I think these stupid mice call it 'courage'. They're trying to sacrifice themselves to defeat us. If we shut the gates, we're pinned against the wall. The archers can shoot at us, and we can be attacked. We're practically dead if we shut the gate."

Mortspear scratched his helmet. "I guess you're right."

A poor mouse decided to take on Vulpuz himself, only to be flattened by Mortspear's golden spear. Vulpuz held the mouse's nose into the dirt until he suffocated. Vulpuz drew the Scorpion Sword from his belt, pointing it into the air. "We will not shut the gates, but go in after them. The warriors are too soft to shut their friends in with us. We will keep on pushing until we force the inner flank farther and farther into Hell. They won't defeat me."

1284960847516508715601875630857105356

On the other side of the battle, Luke the warrior was commanding the newly ordered flank. He watched as Martin went into Hell, and he watched as Vulpuz also began to retreat. Grinjsaw, Fleetscut's hedgehog eating opponent, was an officer in his army. The hedgehog laughed.

"Look! Now we can shut the gates and we've won! The dark forest will be safe!"

Luke roared at him. "And shut our friends inside Hell? I think not. We're going to go in after them!"

Grinjsaw stared at him, mouth agape. "We're going into Hell? There's no way! We can't do that! It's horrendous in there!"

Luke shook his head. "Sorry, but there's no other way. If we shut the gate now, Vulpuz will be defeated, but our friends on the other side will be forced to live in Hell. We cannot allow that. We will fight until each and every one of them is destroyed."

Grinjsaw growled as he deflected a spear with his shield.

"This battle is getting mighty ferocious, dontcha say?" asked Derin.

Martin grunted his answer; the temperature around him was rising fast. Sweat dripped down his face as he fought more and more ferociously towards the light at the gate. He could not stand this place.

How could anyone stand it here? Well, obviously no one, because the vermin certainly want out.

He cut down any vermin who stood in his way. Unfortunately, he did not consider the fact that others would not fight as hard as he. He was surrounded, with five vermin separating him and his friends.

Gonff, however, did not stand to reason with the vermin. He dove in after Martin, and where he did not kill anyone, he stole their belts instead. He found his way to Martin, and they fought back to back. Burning with a desire to see Columbine one last time, he roared his home's battlecry with Martin.

"Redwaaaalll!!!"

There were none who could remain standing before the blades of Martin and Gonff. Nothing touched them as Martin waved his sword and Gonff plunged his daggers into hearts and chests and-

"Gonff! I don't really think that we need those tunic buttons."

"But they're made of silver!"

Martin sighed as Gonff pocketed them.

Vulpuz was watching his army retreat into hell from safe upon the wall of Hell. They were slowly moving back, and Martin's army was moving further and further inside. Vulpuz watched as the outer edge began to flood into hell. The vermin were great in number, but sandwiched. The movement of the battle was controlled by the goodbeasts. As Martin's side was being purposefully tentative, Luke's side was furious and pushed forward. Naturally, the vermin retreated from Luke and pushed aggressively towards Martin.

The burn of battle continued, and Martin felt a different burn. There was a definite rise in temperature now. His brow was sweating heavily, Martin backed further and further into the depths of hell.

Gonff laughed, "What the hell are we doing here?"

A few soldiers nearby forced a laugh. "I dunno!"

Gonff turned around, grinning, but what he saw wiped it clean off his face. He tapped Martin on the shoulder, dumbstruck. Martin turned around.

Hell was a terrible place. There was no sun. The light came from the fiery ground beneath their feet. There were volcanic holes and a gaseous cloud of pollution growing thicker and thicker as they entered hell.

Besides the atmosphere and the terrain, there were buildings. These were no ordinary buildings. The ones that were not ruins without walls or roofs were dark and murky. There were no plants, but vines had managed to grow up the buildings before dying, leaving a crude feeling on the buildings.

Martin had to force his eyes off away from the terrible sight and back on to the battlefield. The entire armies were now inside Hell, and chaos had broken out. Vulpuz's army was squeezing out on either side. They were regrouping.

"Get around them! Contain them! Archers fire at will!" Boar could be heard across everyone.

Martin had the misfortune of standing right next to his horn.

"Boar! We should use this opportunity to regroup ourselves! Let's rethink this!"

Boar shook his head violently. "What, are you suggesting we rest? We can't rest in Hell! This place was meant for pain and suffering! We can't just go to sleep! Why do you think the vermin were so hesitant to come back? They never rested!"

Martin did not see the spear flying towards him. He only glanced it at the last minute, but it was too late… Or at least he thought. Out of nowhere, a flashing blade came down and severed the tip. The momentum carried the spear down into the ground. Martin looked at the mouse who had saved his life.

"It's the same mouse who saved me earlier!" He thought, "Who is this mouse?"

"Who are you? You've saved my life twice already, and I don't even know your name!"

The mouse stared at him for a moment, then darted back into the battlefield. Martin stood dumbstruck. Had he watched closely, he would've seen that the mouse stayed close by to keep an eye on him. Martin shook his head in frustration. "He'll be back. I'm sure of it."

Vulpuz was losing, and he was angry.

"Where are they running? They want to go BACK into Hell?" He drew his sword again and pointed it at the neck of one of his retreating soldiers.

"And just where do you think you're going?"

The rat gulped, "We-We're retreatin', sir."

"I did not give you the signal to retreat. Did you think that I signaled retreat?"

The rat gulped and shook his head. "No, sir, but everyone else was, and I-"

Vulpuz didn't give him a chance to speak. The sword flashed faster than he could duck, which, unfortunately, resulted in his immediate demise.

"We're not going to lose this battle! Mortspear, sound the horn for regrouping. Send out the message among the commanders."

Sauvin glared around with his black eyes. His paw was on a shuriken, and he was dangling from the crumbling roof of a building.

A rat passed by. He did not make it far. He fell to the ground with a knife in his back. He disappeared in a flash. Sauvin jumped down, retrieved it, and returned to his spot on the ceiling.

Two foxes passed. Sauvin landed behind them, grabbed four shurikens, and hurled them with great accuracy. The foxes found themselves pinned face first against a wall. They were able to curl their heads around to see Sauvin loading a dart into his gun. They both gulped, and they soon had red darts in their necks. Sauvin laughed and returned to the battlefield.

The foxes did not live to tell their interesting tale.

The battle was raging ferociously, but the vermin were regrouping. There was no way for the goodbeasts to stop the mass of vermin from getting to where they wanted to go. The vermin were desperate, and they swung at anyone standing in their path.

Martin blinked back the rising ash and wiped his eyes. He could not stand this place. He clenched his teeth as he spotted Vulpuz's golden body across the battlefield.

He was their target, and Martin wanted nothing better than to call on the archers to fire in that direction; however, there were no archers who could get set fast enough for them to fire. If they got organized, the vermin would dispatch them.

Vulpuz would have to be killed by hand.

Soon, it was a head to head battle with vermin on one side, and goodbeasts on the other. The fight continued, and archers were finally able to take their ranks and fire without fear of being cut down. They ran to the back ranks and set up under a hare General.

"Right, then! Everyone raise your bows!"

There was a clattering of wood, and they pointed in the air.

"Just like we practiced; Arrows in!"

The steel tips glinted firelight.

"First rank, fire! Down and reload! Second rank, fire! Third rank, fire! Down and reload ranks two and three! Fourth rank, fire! First rank, fire! Down and reload!"

The arrows cut down those stuck in the middle of the enemy ranks. Here and there a beast would take an arrow and die.

Martin found himself among a group of vermin, still back-to-back with Gonff. He slashed and cut, as did Gonff, who was tiring out.

"'Ey mate, would you do me a favour?"

Martin grunted as a spear sliced at his shoulder. He severed the tip and answered, "What's that mate?"

"Anything, Gonff."
"If anything happens to me… If anything… Tell Columbine I love 'er."

Martin shook his head. "There's no reason to be thinking that way Gonff."

Gonff grunted. "Yes, there is."

Martin dared a look back. He gasped. Gonff was bleeding from nearly every part of his body. A few cuts here and there, some more serious than others.

"Gonff! Gonff get down! I can take these by myself. Lie on the ground! Stop wasting your energy!"

Gonff grunted. "I came 'ere t'fight, not to stand around and be nursemaided. Let me do what I want!"

Martin shook his head. "Columbine would want you here in pieces than not here at all. Get down! We'll get you back to the others. Look! We're not far from the rest of our army. They'll take you back to camp and fix you up."

"NO! I came t'fight, an' I won't back down to be 'fixed up'."

Martin responded by hitting him on the back of the head with a vermin's dagger hilt.

"It's for your own good."

Martin slung Gonff across his shoulder. He deflected a spear and charged past a few confused foxes, and he sped off to the Hellgate. He deposited Gonff by the other wounded members, then returned to the battle.

It raged. It burned. There was pain and anger in the eyes of every beast on the fiery terrain. It would be the last emotion they would feel for some, and it would be the last emotion for the vermin to see for the rest.

Author's note: The next chapter will be kind of boring. It's nothing but fighting ; ). Anyways, the climax will occur in chapter 45, and yes, there will be an epilogue.