Alexander stood by the side of the Ghost Mountains, sword in hand. Not a hint of smile could be detected on his usually happy face. The wind blew his hair behind in unison with his shirt making him look like the god of slaughter. His eyes scanned the thousands of witches who were assembled preparing for war. Had he not caught wind of this, Crescia would have been caught off guard.

His anger boiled within him, his hands clutching the sword tightly. He would not allow them to attack Crescia, not under his watch. And to imagine that they killed Henry so that Arcadia could turn against them was clever of them. No one would have suspected such a thing would be happening behind everyone’s back. That only meant one thing, there was a rat in the palace!

He descended from the top and landed in front of the marching troupes. Given the size of the witch army, Crescia could not have stood a chance. Fortunately, the dragon was well sealed in the caves.

The witches, on noticing Alexander’s arrival began to circle around him yet cautious. They had heard what he had done to the Crescians and witches in the last battle. They made way for him yet no one dared to lift a finger on him. His sharp gaze was fixated on the person discussing something with people witches who he assumed to be the leaders of the coven. He narrowed his eyes when an image of him crossed his eyes but he was quick to discard the thought. That guy was dead!

With each step he took through the flood of witches, the more closer he got to this man and the more his disturbing face flashed in his mind. And as if to confirm his fear, the man turned to look at him the moment he reached at the front.

"No way!" Alexander muttered under his breath.

"What a pleasant surprise Your Highness, oh I mean Your Majesty," came the annoying voice.

"You’re alive?" Alexander asked as if seeing him standing was not enough.

"As you can see, very much alive." Said a smiling Griffin. "Faking death is one of my many talents," he added.

"I should have killed you when I had the chance," Alexander said, unfazed that he was in an enemy’s territory with over a thousand witches surrounding him.

"Because you are here, I guess you have a clue of what is about to befall Crescia. That kingdom is mine alone." He said pointing towards the direction of Crescia.

"You killed him didn’t you?"

"You mean that coward of a king?" He asked laughing. "He wanted to die so I made it easier for him."

"As I will." Alexander said and sprung at Griffin in surprisingly high speed aiming for his chest. But before he could reach to him, he froze mid air before he was tossed to the ground. A debris of dust settled on him making him to cough out blood.

Griffin retracted his outstretched hand impressed by his new powers. His face twisted like that of a crazy person before he walked towards where Alexander was lying.

"When your Crescian powers fails you and you recognize you are a witch, alchemy becomes the best option." He boasted. "All the leaders of the covens gave me their share of power and adding to my Crescian powers, I’m unstoppable."

He stepped on Alexander’s chest harder making him to cough out more blood. "No one is going to stop me this time. Once Arcadia goes against Crescia, I’ll join the war when both parties are tired to build my empire." He laughed at that. And as if stepping on Alexander’s chest was not enough, he kicked him hard in the stomach. Alexander coiled in a foetal position, his face turning all shades of pain. The fall had dealt him a great blow.

"I’ll not kill you first. I’ll torture you until you wish for death!" He said, giving Alexander a cold look. "Tie him up!" He ordered.

Alexander saw him walk away before two witches hoisted him and dragged him off to another place. He was tied on a pole under the scorching sun, disgusting gazes from the witches following. He had killed their people after all. Still, Alexander couldn’t understand how these people were easily swayed.

The pain gradually dissipated in the next hour but the sour taste of his blood was still fresh in his mouth. His stomach grumbled yet no one made effort to have him fed. He regretted not having breakfast before he left. Worst was when the sun rose high. His dusty skin mixed with sweat, his lips cracking dry and so was his throat. And as if that was not enough, any witch passing by would throw a punch on him at will.

Alexander had never been this helpless in his whole life. The ropes were so tight around him that trying to free himself would award a bruise as the least. He tried this for some time but gave up when blood colored his hands. He had been crucified like Jesus, only that it was with ropes and not nails!

His thoughts wandered back to Valoria where he had left another mystery unravelled. If Isadora would know that it was all Griffin’s doing, she couldn’t be consoling people right now. She should be proving her innocence to Arcadia. Damn it! Griffin must have known the strained relationship between the Arcadian royal family. His plan had been well executed from start. Who knew even faking his death was part of the plan?

With most of the Valorians knights back, Crescia would suffer a great blow if the witches attacked. They had the advantage in numbers as Crescia had lost many men in the war. And Valorian knights would only act if he issued them a direct order. He had to admit Griffin’s plan was perfectly laid and executed. All odds were on him even if he made a bladder. Crescia, Valoria and Arcadia were in great danger, and only he could help; a captured king!