The officials on Purgatory's side turned around and presumably retreated towards their fortresses, but I knew there would be no comfort like that for me.
There was a deafening drumroll and I heard the sound of thousands of swords being drawn beside me.
I drew my own, holding it up as my adrenaline and Omen surged forwards. There was a battle cry, or something terrifying that could be vaguely considered a battle cry, a melding of inhuman voices all raised in tortured bloodlust.
I could barely process my sudden realization of how armor-less I was over the feeling of hooves and feet thundering around me. Even Omen was wearing more armor than me.
Purgatory's army looked scared, uncertain, wondering what madness had possessed us to attack with our king in the frontlines.
We'd already traversed more than half the gap before Purgatory started moving, a hesitant shuffle in comparison to Hell's wrathful bounds.
Somehow Lucifer's voice managed to ring out over the ridiculous roar of war.
"For glory! For honour! For darkness!"
In a blatant display I twirled my sword above my head seconds before the first clash of steel.
I quickly found the weak spots in Purgatorian armor. The neck. Below the breastplate. It wasn't hard to stun the enemy with a blunt blow to the helmet.
It was as if I had years of experience guiding me. I felt like a seasoned warrior, Omen kicking wildly and my sword slicing through the air with deadly accuracy.
Omen was a good steed. He moved quickly despite the tightly-packed battlefield, leaping with endless energy and kicking away attempts at slashing his legs.
He kept me above the mess of the battlefield, just out of reach for those struggling below me. Not to mention the fact that his eyes and hooves were blazing with fire.
Though, it was safe to say that I looked pretty epic too. I discovered then that the sword was a kind of channel for the demonic fires, and my blade was raging with black flames.
Minutes or maybe hours later, when I had just started making a dent in the endless torrent of grey, I heard a foreign voice.
"Retreat! Retreat to reserve positions!"
I stopped mid-stab, watching Purgatory turn tail and run. Omen snorted, as if he was disappointed.
I wiped the sweat off of my forehead, watching incredulously.
That was it?
"Don't worry, they'll be back."
I turned to see Lucifer, sitting regally on Destroyer with his tattered wings extended. Somehow he'd managed to get himself entirely coated in blood, and I had to say I was kind of disturbed when I noticed the severed arm he was holding.
"Um...are you going to eat that or something?"
He looked at it suddenly, as if he hadn't realized he was holding it, and tossed it aside.
"Sorry. I know it's early in the morning for dismemberment."
"So, what now? Do we just wait for them to attack again?"
"You're the military commander. For now, though, you're on mercy duty."