Celtic's camp was abuzz with hearty discussion and lively chatter, celebrating their decisive victory and the devastating defeat they forced upon Jaeger's forces. A few were standing over the grave pit, silently shedding a tear or two while they watched as their friends, kinsmen and comrades were offered their last rites and laid in the cremation pit. Across from them, closer to the city, a larger pit had formed, and the bodies of the Bumblebee soldiers found on the field were hauled to the edge and unceremoniously thrown in. Celtic watched from a hill overlooking the plateau, silently contemplating the weight of his losses. From the woods and the city, his Council emerged, with grim faces and stolid expressions aplenty.

"What were our losses?" Samurai asked. He turned to the pit where their soldiers were being laid to rest. He sighed mournfully, and turned back to Celtic.

"We lost some good men," Celtic said. "But we dealt a decisive blow to our enemies. Maker?" He turned to his artificer, who had a shameful glint in her eye. He frowned.

"Were you able to complete your objective?" The king raised an eyebrow, disappointed by her reluctance to respond. She laughed awkwardly, and avoided eye contact.

"I was not, my lord. He had experienced men fighting with him. A Rosian soldier, and a mercenary. They drove me back before I could kill him."

Celtic grumbled, dissatisfied. "Though your failure is disappointing, it is not inexcusable. We have achieved a far greater victory today. Even if Kuchen yet lives, his forces have been decimated. It will be some time before he recovers. Greatness, how did your assault fare?"

Greatness failed to respond, locked securely in a trance. Inferno edged closer to him and tapped him on the shoulder, awakening him from his stupor and snapping him to attention.

"The assault went swimmingly, my liege. But while I was leading it, I met someone. Someone I've met before…" He trailed off, returning to his stupor.

"Right. Chaos, I would ask you and the others how your operation went, but the fact that we are not actively fighting the Renora soldiers speaks for itself." He looked around, searching for his remaining lieutenant. "Where's Peter?" He turned back to his Council. "Have any of you seen Peter?"

Celtic suddenly noticed Jokey, who, like Greatness, seemed to be in a reverie, staring out at the Renora walls. The king cocked his head and gestured towards Jokey. Chaos quickly advanced to the King's side and leaned in to whisper in his ear.

"While we were in the castle, Jokey had a…confrontation with his mother. You see, she was the one who led Jaeger and the Bumblebee remnant. I had her escorted to the dungeon to await her punishment once the battle was over." He paused, gesturing towards his friend.

Yukon chimed in. "We have no real use for her. I say let Jokey have his way and be done with it." Celtic nodded, walking forward and gently awakening his enforcer from his daze.

"My friend, we both know what you think of your mother. Whatever decision you make, we're with you."

Jokey nodded dreamily and began descending the hill to where his mother was being kept under armed guard. As he walked towards her, he became focused and adrenaline began pumping through his veins. The assassin, with determination, shoved Zentics aside and approached his mother.

"Well, look who decided to join-" His mother's snarky comment was cut off as Jokey suddenly backhanded her, drawing blood and a look of utter contempt from the queen.

"Silence." Jokey's voice was steel, hard and unwavering. Herzlosa licked the blood off her teeth before smiling a wicked, wicked smile.

"No."

Jokey did not react. He stood there, staring at his mother. Around them, the soldiers had become silent, turning their attention to the scene unfolding before them. Finally, Jokey took a step forward, ever so carefully. Then another. Then another. He was agonizingly slow. The queen's formerly fiery temperament cooled as she gradually lost her composure. Soon, Jokey stood in front of his mother, looking down on her, the only emotion in his eyes unparalleled disdain. He gently brushed his hand across his mother's neck, as a cat toying with its prey before striking. Herzlosa's conviction suddenly returned, and she spat on her son, who turned his head and stood up to wipe it away. She sneered at him hatefully, and bared her teeth.

"You MONGREL! I should have killed you long ago, you disgusting traitor. The day you were born, I saw something in your eye. I saw a spark, a glimmer of an inner evil. I told your father, we should give him away. Something's not right about that boy. But he insisted."

Jokey turned back to face his mother, a deep anger welling within him, threatening to burst forward. He restrained himself, casting only a cool glance in her direction.

"And look where it got him. I tried to tell him. He wouldn't listen. 'Oh, Herzlosa. We can fix him. If we try a little more, if we give him another chance, he'll change. He was in denial. I wasn't. I had given up on you long ago."

"Perhaps if you really TRIED, you'd have the son you wanted." The assassin was barely able to restrain himself and contain his anger. "If you actually cared to stick around, instead of carousing about with other men and gold digging with the higher nobles, I would have changed."

"IT DOESN'T MATTER WHAT I DID!" Herzlosa, absolutely livid, shrieked in unbarred fury. Zentics and the Council, who had approached the scene, recoiled in surprise. "What you did, that's all that matters. Your dreaded machine, that horrible thing, that was the final straw. I remember it all too vividly. I walked into our home. I set down my things. I heard arguing coming from downstairs. 'Jokey, my boy, don't do this. This is wrong, this is sick!' You never did listen to your sentimental fool of a father. You kept on fiddling with it. 'No father! See, father! Watch, and you'll see what these machines can really do!' And then it went up in flames. You. Your father. The house. I barely escaped. You did too. Your father didn't." She scowled, and with a look of total, unrestrained hatred, stared her son straight in the eye.

"It should have been you."

Jokey howled in total, unadulterated wrath. He charged Herzlosa, wrapping his cold, metal hands around her throat as he lost all control of himself. The assassin throttled her violently as Zentics tried to step in.

"Jokey! Stop this at once!" He stormed forwards, only to be halted by Greatness and Yukon.

Greatness grumbled intimidatingly. "I would highly suggest you not do that." He lifted his blade and angled it at Zentics, who stepped back, flustered.

"But that's my wife!" He stammered, struggling to spit the words out. Yukon laughed darkly before unbuckling his flail from his belt. "You're the king of Renora, Zentics. You'll find another." He sneered callously, a thick air of condescension almost smothering those present. Zentics swallowed and reluctantly stepped back, and the indignation in his wife's eyes suddenly turned to fear. "You hear that, mother? No one is going to save you!" Jokey's hands tightened, causing his mother to weakly grab his arms in a vain effort to free herself. He exhaled, slightly calming himself, before turning back toward Herzlosa.

"Beg me. Beg me for mercy."

With a look of indignation, she looked Jokey in the eye and mouthed her final word:

"No."

Jokey screamed in utter hatred, his scream piercing the ears of all those present. His hands tightened, and with one final effort, cast his mother into the cremation pit.

Herzlosa shrieked as the flames around her consumed her, and all the soldiers around them stepped back in fear, and the anticipation they might be next. Jokey stood motionlessly in front of the fire, watching as his mother's form dissolved into ash, and listening as the sickening cracks and pops of melting bone and flesh were consumed by the sounds of the flames. For a moment, the world stood still, and every man present stared at the pit as if it were some unholy portal to Hell, as if demons of every sort were going to burst forth at any second.

Jokey finally moved, turning around and passing through the camp, ignoring the looks of dread all the men present gave him. Inferno, nauseated to his core by the display, turned to an equally horrified Celtic, who was staring blankly at the flames.

"That was NOT necessary."

Chaos too, turned to face his liege. "I'm afraid I'm inclined to agree with Inferno. That was totally unnecessary, and who knows what it'll do to morale?"

Celtic waved him aside. "This was Jokey's decision, not ours. Besides, she was a traitor. An example needed to be made."

"But-" Chaos tried to get another word in, but a cold glance from Celtic silenced him immediately.

"My liege." Nachbar's voice drew their attention away from the uncomfortable confrontation and onto him. "I return with good news."

"Thank you, Peter," Celtic said. "Do tell, what is this good news of yours?" Nachbar removed a large dagger from his robes. It was bloodstained, and scratches unique to Jaeger's weapon crisscrossed it sloppily. The spymaster grinned.

"Jaeger is no more."

"Ah, isn't that good to know." Celtic cast a disdainful glance at Maker, who sheepishly turned away. "Tell me, how did you do it?"

"It wasn't I who carried out the deed. It was my agent, Quixotic." He showed the hilt to Celtic. On it were Quixotic's initials, delicately imprinted into the foundation: Q.Q. Celtic smiled.

"Can this Quixotic continue undermining our enemies?

"Yes, but not for much longer. I've been manipulating him through trickery and deceit. Soon he'll get suspicious and realize my motives, but until then, he's of great use to us."

"Fantastic. My council, tell the men to set up camp out here. We'll rest tomorrow. The day after that, we resume our campaign."

The Council, save for Inferno, Samurai and Chaos, murmured in assent and departed. Inferno and Samurai continued to stare at the cremation pit, watching as the flames danced in the dark of night. Chaos placed a hand on Inferno's shoulder, lingering only for a second, and then walked off after Celtic. Inferno turned to Samurai.

"Samurai, are you loyal to me?"

He nodded. "Yes, my liege. To you, and only you."

Inferno sighed. "Good."

"Because the minute we have a chance, we are burning our deal with this devil."

Samurai nodded in agreement, and they walked off into the darkness.

Quixotic could walk no longer. He trudged through the wilderness, hoping that someone, anyone, would find him. Well, almost anyone.

In the distance, he saw a flicker of light, darting incessantly about and illuminating the pitch black of the night. Fire.

And where there's fire, there's people.

He managed to muster up what remained of his strength and segued gradually into a sprint as he ran toward the flame. At last, he reached the edge of the forest and broke through the tree line, finding himself in a sparsely populated camp. The officers were in an argument, and their soldiers were trudging listlessly through the mud. One of them noticed Quixotic's presence and squinted at him, trying to figure out who he was.

"Hey? Who are you?"

Quixotic managed to take a few small steps towards the soldier before dropping to his knees. He scanned the faces around him, hoping that he could find a familiar one among them. At last, some stood out to him.

Gwydion, Austin and Nitesco.

He raised his arm halfheartedly, and tried to form words. Gwydion, seeing this, pushed through the crowd and helped Quixotic up, dragging him over to a log surrounding the large campfire.

"It's alright, everyone. He's with us."

"Then why's he got Jaeger's sword?" A small voice piped up from the middle of the crowd. Many of the men squinted at the spy, scrutinizing him, and upon seeing Jaeger's sword immediately shifted into a defensive position, not trusting the newcomer. Austin turned to face him, a quizzical look on his face. Quixotic sighed.

"Some of Celtic's men caught up with us. He…did not survive the encounter."

The soldiers collectively looked around, dazed. The fact that their leader, a man whose presence had been taken for granted, wasn't there anymore was earth-shattering for them. The men looked around dejectedly, before one brave infantryman stepped forward and voiced the concern that was passing through everybody's minds.

"Who will lead us now?"

Everybody froze. From out of the crowd, one man stepped forward.

"I will. I am Colonel Novem, of the 1st Bumblebee Cavalry Regiment. It was I who ordered the counterattack on Celtic the night our capital was sieged, a feat which allowed many men here to escape their imminent deaths. I should lead us!"

The cavalrymen, almost on cue, cheered loudly. Some of the infantrymen joined in cheering, before another man stepped forward from the crowd, stood on a tree stump, and addressed the crowd.

"I should be the one to lead us! MY name is Colonel Blake, and I am a representative of the infantrymen. I have led in the service of Bumblebee for over forty years, and I have coordinated countless victories in its name. This victory that Novem cites was the reckless act of an inexperienced commander who earned his place through nepotism. This man's counterattack cost countless men. Do you want him to lead us, or me?"

A larger portion of the soldiers cheered, leaving Novem red-faced with fury. Yet another man stepped forward, wearing an almost pristine uniform.

"I am Major Rin. I too, have served Bumblebee for many years, nineteen, to be exact. I was Jaeger's personal strategist and advisor, and I have led not just him, but all of you to victory through these many years. I should be the leader!"

Almost immediately, the camp erupted in cheers and cries, as their interests turned from supporting their chosen candidates to arguing with each other. Austin and Gwydion sighed in contempt. Quixotic turned to Nitesco, and noticed a strange glint in his unusually stern eyes. Nitesco growled and began walking toward the stump which Blake stood upon. He shoved him to the ground, suppressing a smirk as he faceplanted in the mud, and stood on the stump.

"HEY!"

The soldiers, who had been on the cusp of coming to blows, abruptly stopped and turned to the commoner who stood, steel-faced, upon the stump. They were awed to silence by this man's unfettered boldness, and they remained respectfully attentive.

Austin cleared his throat and stepped to Nitesco's side, concerned. "Nitesco. What are you doing?" Nitesco swallowed and continued surveying the crowd.

"Today, I killed a man."

A few of the cavalrymen looked at him quizzically, then laughed disdainfully. He paid them no heed.

"I've never taken a life before. I fought with you, yes. But I made an effort to never, never take a life." His voice quivered.

"That soldier had a name. A family. A life. And yet, he risked it all, to do what he felt was right."

The cavalrymen had, like the rest of the infantrymen, returned to a reverent silence. Nitesco choked back a tear.

"That man was willing to sacrifice his life for what he viewed as the greater good. He was willing to die for his country, for his beliefs. So what if he was on Celtic's side? So what if he fought against us? He is more deserving of our respect than anybody here, including me."

"He died for his beliefs. And here we are, squabbling over the broken pieces of an army, for nobody's sake but our own. Look at you." His melancholy turned to anger.

"LOOK AT YOU! YOU BASTARDS!" He inhaled deeply, and continued to speak.

"You've never fought. Not a single one of the men who thinks they should be Jaeger's successor was on that battlefield. Jaeger would be ashamed of you. These men, your brothers and sisters, fought and died. And you sit idly in the shadows and only step out to take the credit."

"That man, the man that I… killed, he was a better man than any of you." He thrust a finger apprehensively in the officer's directions, before extending an open hand to the soldiers.

"But you. You men are the bravest, most honorable men I've ever had the privilege of fighting alongside. You were willing to follow your leader into certain death, for no other reason than it was asked of you. You were willing, just like that man, to sacrifice everything for what you thought was right."

He paused. The men leaned forward in anticipation, hanging on every word.

"I would be honored to fight alongside you. Each of the men behind me, Austin, Gwydion, Quixotic, are as proud of you as I am. They feel the same way. They have fought as long and hard as all of you. It would be my, no, our privilege to lead you men into battle. If you would have me, I would be your commander." The camp was dead silent for a second. Nitesco felt a crushing embarrassment, and his face fell involuntarily when the silence continued.

"I would be honored to serve under you."

A single man stepped forward; the portly messenger sent from Renora. He produced a dagger, and taking it, kneeled and offered it up to Nitesco as a sign of fealty.

The soldier next to him followed suit, kneeling and offering his blade up to Nitesco. Then another, and another, and another, until all but the three candidates were kneeling before their new commander. Seeing that their chances of taking command were scattered, the officers begrudgingly kneeled before him.

"One question, sir?" The messenger spoke up. "Since Jaeger is dead, we no longer serve Bumblebee. What will we be called now?"

Nitesco turned to Austin, who was at his side. "Austin, what is the name of the forest we are in?"

Austin stroked his chin contemplatively. "I believe it is called the Rowj forest, commander." He grinned triumphantly.

"Then the Rowj league is what we shall be called. And Gwydion?" Gwydion turned to Nitesco eagerly.

"What was the name of the mercenary company you were a part of?"

"The Fallen Angels, sir."

Nitesco laughed. "I just had a clever idea. The four of us, we shall be called the Angelic, but spelled A-N-G-Q. Clever, no?"

He laughed jovially and faced the crowd. The messenger once again spoke up.

"Three cheers for ANGQ!"

The camp erupted in cheers. Nitesco opened his arms and basked in the glory before turning to his fellows.

"Rest up, my friends. Tomorrow we plan our attack." Gwydion and Austin smiled and walked over to the men, who were cheering and laughing. Quixotic remained behind, looking melancholy. Nitesco rested a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, you did all you could." He sighed.

"Jaeger would be proud of you."

Quixotic shrugged. "I hope so. I'm heading to bed." Nitesco gave him a small salute before returning to bathing in the radiant cheering of his men.

Quixotic entered the tent, making sure the flaps were secured behind him. Making sure no one was about, he set Jaeger's sword on the ground and stared at it dejectedly for a minute.

As the whole camp cheered outside, Quixotic sat down and cried.