The day of battle arrived. General Malavsky and Prince Hans Jonasior Dragensen stood at the front lines, observing the movements of the Sartala soldiers who had begun advancing along the banks of the Lemuria River.

  During the tense wait, following General Malavsky’s signal, a Normandian soldier released the first arrow—marking the beginning of the bloody war.

  In response, the Sartala soldiers charged toward the Normandian front lines, and the brutal battle erupted, causing both factions to slaughter one another.

  Prince Hans Jonasior Dragensen fought bravely, swinging his sword at the Sartala soldiers, cutting down several men. He soon faced Sarmento Sigibens, the commander of the First Division of the Kingdom of Sartala. Through his skill, Hans managed to defeat Sarmento Sigibens, wounding him severely with a sword slash aimed directly at his neck.

  The battle continued until nightfall, when the Sartala forces finally withdrew from the battlefield. This left the Normandian army in a favorable position, having successfully withstood the reckless onslaught of the Sartala troops.

  With heavy casualties and many wounded on both sides, they decided to treat the injured soldiers while preparing strategies for the following day.

  The First General of the Kingdom of Normandia and several commanders from the twelve divisions gathered in the Strategy Camp located at the center of the military encampment. Acting as the supreme leader of the war, King Maximilian I praised the performance of the Normandian soldiers who had managed to repel and endure the Sartala attack.

  “As King Maximilian I, I greatly appreciate the strategy devised by General Malavsky and the division commanders. You were extraordinary—fighting with brilliant tactics that forced the Sartala forces to retreat.”

  Hearing the praise from King Maximilian I deeply honored General Malavsky and the division commanders.

  “Thank you, Your Majesty. However, this achievement is also due to the performance of the First Division Commander, Hans Dragensen, who bravely defeated Sartala’s First Division Commander, Sarmento Sigibens, in a one-on-one duel amid the battle,” said General Malavsky, praising Prince Hans Dragensen.

  Looking proudly at Prince Hans Dragensen, the king then addressed his son.

  “Prince Hans.”

  “At your command, Your Majesty.”

  “Maintain your performance, my son.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  “Now, allow all troops to rest while preparing the reserve forces as a precaution, General.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” replied General Malavsky as he bowed respectfully. The division commanders followed suit and left the Strategy Camp under the escort of mounted soldiers.

  Prince Hans Dragensen then engaged in conversation with several division commanders before walking toward his resting tent.

  Upon arriving at his camp, he entered and removed his armor. It was clear he was hiding something—his hands trembled, his heart felt empty. He calmed himself by praying to God Ilio, asking for protection for the coming day. Kneeling and shedding tears, he prayed softly, folding his hands humbly.

  In his prayer, he poured out his heart to the Divine.

  “Oh God, forgive me for my sins today. I have killed many people by wielding my sword against those who may have been innocent. Please forgive me, O God. Release me from the trials that await me.”

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  As the commander of the first division of the royal army, feelings of deep inner conflict often haunted him, for he was forced to fight on the front lines.

  His prayer was heard by the Praying Goddess, who was watching him from the divine realm.

  She was deeply moved by his sincere and humble prayer.

  She descended to the human realm, observing Prince Hans Dragensen as he remained immersed in prayer.

  A feeling arose within her—a desire to watch him more closely, something she had never felt toward any human before. She sensed that Prince Hans Dragensen was different from most people, who usually prayed to God Ilio for wealth and prosperity.

  The power of this prayer made the Praying Goddess wish to fully protect Prince Hans Dragensen. This marked the beginning of the bond between Hans Dragensen and the Praying Goddess Eliel.

  Despite warnings from Sar’el, the angelic messenger, she ignored them, driven by her unwavering resolve.

  The next day, when war erupted again between the Kingdom of Normandia and the Kingdom of Sartala, Prince Hans Dragensen led the guerrilla forces at the front lines. He was suddenly attacked by Sartala forces, leaving him cornered among his troops.

  Suddenly, reinforcements appeared from the Sartala side, causing the Normandian forces—despite being aided by the Elven army—to fall into chaos. An underworld legion emerged from the ground, driving back the Normandian troops. The once bright blue sky turned pitch black, creating a terrifying atmosphere.

  The underworld army, led by the Angel of Death, Briel, consisted of giants, living skeletons, and infernal spirits flying in all directions, breaking through the defensive lines of the Normandian guerrilla forces.

  Feeling overwhelmed, General Malavsky ordered a gradual retreat toward the royal palace walls. However, several Normandian units led by Prince Hans Dragensen were surrounded and trapped between the underworld army and the Sartala forces.

  Prince Hans Dragensen ordered the remaining soldiers to form a defensive position and fend off incoming attacks. But the overwhelming difference in numbers and power led to the deaths of all his men, leaving Prince Hans alone—now facing the Angel of Death, Briel.

  Seeing Prince Hans standing without protection, Briel lunged at him, slamming him to the ground. Without resistance, Briel strangled his neck and spoke with arrogant contempt.

  “Honorable Prince Hans Dragensen, a pleasure to meet you. My name is Briel. I have long wished to speak with you face to face,” said Briel while continuing to choke Hans, who lay helpless on the ground.

  Hans struggled, trying to break free, but his efforts were futile. A human could not possibly match the mystical strength of an Angel of Death, no matter how trained he was.

  With deep wounds on his neck from Briel’s clawed grip, Hans could only stare into Briel’s blazing red eyes set within a skull-like face.

  “Are you in despair, Prince Hans?” Briel asked.

  Hans Dragensen smiled faintly, as if challenging him.

  “I will not despair, even if death stands before my eyes.”

  Hearing this response delighted Briel. Sensing the despair hidden behind Hans’s words, he decided it was time to claim his life.

  “Prince Hans, do you know? Today is a beautiful day to end the life of someone as helpless as you,” Briel said, smiling as he gazed at the sky.

  “Hahaha, go ahead then, you living skeleton.”

  Hans’s words provoked Briel. Using his dark powers, Briel thrust his hand through the left side of Hans’s armored chest and grasped his heart.

  “What do you think will happen if I crush your heart? You would scream in agony, wouldn’t you?”

  The Angel of Death laughed cruelly, attempting to shatter the spirit of the brave division commander and prince of Normandia.

  As Briel tightened his grip, Prince Hans Dragensen cried out in pain, his scream piercing through the laughter carried by the wind.

  “The time has come, Prince. Farewell—see you in Hell.”

  Briel crushed Hans Dragensen’s heart. The young prince screamed once more, blood pouring from his mouth. Prince Hans Dragensen died instantly, followed by the thunderous cheers and war drums of the death soldiers and Sartala forces.

  Hans Dragensen’s lifeless body was raised high to be displayed before the Normandian army. Seeing their beloved prince treated like refuse by the Sartala soldiers, the Normandian forces broke into uncontrollable tears and profound grief.

  That day marked the death of Prince Hans Dragensen. The Praying Goddess Eliel, who could only watch from the lofty divine realm, was devastated. She could not interfere, for doing so would disrupt the balance between the spiritual and human worlds.

  Tears fell from the eyes of the Praying Goddess Eliel as she mourned the death of Prince Hans Dragensen. Her lament echoed into the human realm, and the land of Normandia was immediately struck by a torrential rain, accompanying the death of their beloved prince.

  Victory lay before the Sartala forces. A cunning smile appeared on the faces of Briel, the Sartala generals, the death soldiers, and the entire army of the Kingdom of Sartala.

  Meanwhile, the Kingdom of Normandia was consumed by deep sorrow, powerless to act. They could only mourn the tragic death of their beloved prince, slain mercilessly by the Angel of Death, Briel.