General Herbison and Jinx stride to the main gates of the city as the army advances.

Jinx: At last…

General Herbison points at her: You've got a bit of blood there, and there, and everywhere.

Jinx: The Empire will fall.

General: Your armour is kinda damaged.

Jinx: And the Minion horde will be the instrument of its destruction.

General: You are really gorgeous when you look like you're going to kill someone.

Jinx glares at him.

General: Yes, that's the look. My gosh you look like you're going to kill me.

Jinx pulls out a dagger.

General: Oh… fudge!

The General runs away shouting for his security.

Jinx smiles: That was fun. Anyway, the good General does not own this story. All credit goes to my creator Sunjinjo on deviantart. Enjoy this while I go and find what rock he's hiding under.

To Glory

The dull orange glow from the heart of the world lit a rough stalactite, stabbing down. There was no sign of life in the gargantuan rock formation. Here, at this moment, all activity was limited to the edges and crevices of the giant subterranean cavity.

In a hollow in a corner of the Netherworld, tucked away close to the barracks of the brown Minions, the clicking of claws to rock resounded. A wizened grey Minion impatiently tapped his foot to the ground, and his yellow eyes bored into those of the boy before him. "Again, Sayron. Come on."

The boy bent over for a moment, his hands to his knees, and growled softly. Then he raised the glowing orange eyes beneath the concealing hood to his teacher, and again outstretched his left hand. Around his wrist a magnificent amber gem had been attached, and it flashed with light as it came closer to the golden life force on the ground between the boy and the grey Minion.

Gnarl nodded curtly. "Good. Go on."

Sayron narrowed his eyes to glowing slits and bent his fingers into claws. The life force flickered, hesitantly whirled upwards. The boy with the glowing eyes inhaled sharply. Then the golden orb of light suddenly flew up and vanished into the amber gem.

"Very well!" Gnarl grinned. "That's it. Well done, young Lord."

Sayron turned, exhilarated, and ran out of the hollow in the black rock wall, to come to a standstill some distance away, staring up at the brown Hive. Something moved between the fleshy folds.

Gnarl shuffled after the boy and folded his hands beneath his cloak. This wouldn't take long.
Not half a minute later a little clawed hand appeared between the Hive's folds of tissue. For a moment the claws groped around blindly, but then they found another hand, with blue, tattooed fingers. Sayron enthusiastically pulled at the hand and arm of the first Minion he'd spawned on his own, and laughed elatedly as the creature slid out.

"Who are you?" he asked as the large bat-like ears rose up. "What's your name?"

The Minion coughed. No other brown dared coming closer to wipe open his eyes, so he did so himself, with clumsy fingers. Then he looked at Sayron directly. "Aches."

Sayron nodded at his first own addition to his father's horde with shining eyes. "Welcome, Aches."

"Very good, young Lord," Gnarl muttered, as he took Sayron aside as the new Minion was surrounded by an overjoyed brown horde. "But now it's time for the next lesson. Always remember Minions are there to be used. We have Mortis and the Well, but that's not the only reason you shouldn't be afraid to send Minions to their deaths."

"Minions are there to be used," Sayron repeated slowly.

"Not to grow attached to or treat as equals," Gnarl went on, a slightly bitter tone to his voice. "You'll get nowhere as an Overlord. Minions live, serve and die. They're only rungs on a ladder to your eventual destiny, your birthright."

"The Empire," Sayron whispered with burning eyes.

"Right, young Lord. It's your purpose to knock that disgusting Emperor off his throne, to crack his skull beneath your boots and take his place as the dark ruler of the new world." Gnarl grinned a wicked grin. "Every beginning is small, but I'll make sure you become a greater tyrant than even your father, young Lord." For a moment the old Minion mourned Lord Vessperion's fate. He'd held an unexpected amount of appreciation for the Overlord who'd bloomed so quickly after his emergence, but who'd fallen so abruptly as well. Yes, Gnarl had genuinely liked Vessperion. The eighth Hero had had something not many Overlords had. He'd been more than just a tool of Evil. When he'd fallen, Gnarl had never given up hope of his son inheriting the throne one day, even with the pregnant mother far beyond his reach. And now, here he was, Sayron; young, barely seven years of age.

Normally the grey Minion didn't take in such young candidates, but this was something else. He was willing to do quite a lot to help Sayron reach his goals.

"It's your destiny to teach the Glorious Empire a lesson, young Lord. Use these Minions as merciless tools and take all their hope from them." Gnarl's eyes flared ominously. "For your… dark… glory."

(PRESENT DAY)

Arcadiopolis.

There it was, straight ahead, with the city wall broken open and without protection from the blue anti-magic shield. The white buildings, temples and pillars shone in the sunlight, but from the north the clouds of the Netherworld already rolled in, led by the three giant flying forms that swiftly crossed the battlefield to cast their shadow over the city.

A fourth flyer had taken to the air recently, but this one didn't fly too high. These brown, leathery wings stayed close to Lord Sayron as he thundered across the northern fields atop his hornbeast, straight for the largest hole in the city wall and his hordes. His armies cheered wildly as he rushed between them, and weapons were raised in an exhilarated greeting.

Sayron grinned wildly and his eyes flashed. Then he cast a glance up at his flying companion. Jinx briefly saluted from Zephyros' back.

There was no opposition from the city – at least, not yet. The Empire didn't dare attack now, and preferred a defensive stance. Perhaps they'd stand a chance on their own ground.

Ruau reached the city wall, and Zephyros, too, glided towards the crumbling opening in the marble on silent wings. Jinx reined in her mount as she saw Sayron slow down. A moment later the bat landed on the scorched, churned-up soil with flapping wings, just before the first low buildings. The horde leader caught Gnarl's voice, close to Sayron. "Arcadiopolis is laid open before you like a putrid oyster, Sire. Do drink in the sights and sounds of city life. Time to savour this sweet moment… just before you trample it all into grey sludge!" The advisor laughed demonically, but quickly stopped that as he caught a blue flash from the corner of Sayron's eye.

Sayron turned to the left, to the remains of the city wall. A blue flame sprayed up and died away, high above him on the rubble. A familiar face stared down at him, and the Overlord gripped on to his mace. Next to him Jinx growled briefly.

"Fool," Marius Ovidius spoke haughtily. "Do you really think you can defeat the great Emperor Solarius? Even now he is recapturing the magical energy released from the Tower Heart… To add to our," he coughed briefly, "collection, from the rest of these lands."
Jinx slowly slid from the saddle. Right next to her Minc was about to jump forward, an arrow tipped with bright yellow feathers already on his bow, but she dragged him back by the scruff of his neck. Her eyes were wide as she realized what Marius had just said. Next to her Gnarl appeared to come to the same conclusion. "They've been storing magic all along… That must be what the Eradicator cannons are really for! So much for their cleansing programme. Thieving programme, more like!"

Marius smiled thinly. "We had thought the power was lost. So considerate of you to bring it straight to us! Solarius will be waiting for you, Witch Boy!"

Gnarl swallowed. "You must hurry, Sire. If Solarius recaptures that magical energy that is floating about this place, there's no telling how much power he might wield. It may be… even greater than yours."

Marius laughed. "Once he has taken your energy, and wiped out that rat army, he will turn your little domain into sewers when he rebuilds this land in his own glorious image!"

"Now you can go get him," Jinx hissed to Minc. The Minion pulled back his arrow again, but the bone tip ricocheted from the pile of marble shards – Marius had already vanished in his blue flame.

"This isn't good," Sayron muttered. Then he raised his voice. "Onwards! We have no time to lose! Kill everyone resisting! I want the Palace taken before noon!"

A chorus of agreement went up, but a few Minions looked up at their Master in confusion. Scabies, having dismounted from Stabbit's back by now, scratched his head. "Only those resisting?" he asked himself. On his shoulder Duda puffed up his feathers, a glistening in his insane parrot eyes.

"Enough will resist," Rags, the brown at his side, remarked nervously. "Look." He nodded at the streets before them.

However white and shining the city had looked from afar, like every city in history Arcadiopolis, too, had its suburbs. Not just the slums had muddy streets, and like there, wood and smudgy plaster dominated here, not the white marble of uptown. Here and there sign posts of shops or taverns swayed in the upcoming wind. Here, the small merchants and the poorer people made a living.

But those had probably all hid away in their homes, or fled to the Palace by now. The only people still out and about now marched into sight, all clad in green or blue tunics, and led by figures in red cloaks.

"Right, I'm needed on the ground," Jinx nodded, hastily rolling off her ropes. She turned to Drip, still in the saddle of her mount. "Take the reins, Drip. Let him have his way, he should be unstoppable with you as his healer." She turned back to the soldiers, froze, and then looked up at Sayron. "…Permission, Lord?"

The Overlord nodded silently. At that Zephyros launched himself into the air, as Drip still struggled to haul himself to the front saddle.

The soldiers had kept standing, a few hundred yards further into the city. It was clear they'd defend Arcadiopolis with everything they still had in them. Zephyros wasn't able to do much yet, as the houses were too close together here.

However, this was a good situation for her, Sayron and the hordes. This was the second time she'd thought it; this battle is going to be won by Minions. The human armies didn't have much room for movement as long as the battle took place in these streets, but the Minions climbed the walls and rooftops with ease.

To be exact, that was what was happening at this moment. Jinx hurriedly started moving as she realized fiery lights shot up the houses, followed by black spiders. Behind her she heard Sayron roar his commands. "Spread out through the streets! Always keep pushing towards the heart of the city! Break those formations!" Men and Minions streamed through the alleys and streets as poison through a circulatory system. The soldiers before them didn't back away, however, as they'd done on the battlefield outside the city. These soldiers had accepted they were going to die. Even more so as the yeti had joined the warriors and was even now shattering walls and roofs on his path to the Empire's armies.

One last battle. Sayron pulled his mace off his back and galloped at the front lines screaming.

One last plunge into the deep. Jinx bounced from wall to wall to distract the archers on the rooftops and in the middle of the Imperial formation and then threw herself between the soldiers to stab them in the back.

One last breath for those who took us down. Seffec sprinted through a side street at the head of his own men, encountered a separate part of the legion and let his scimitar pull long bloody swathes across the unprotected arms and neck of a young green-tunicked soldier.

Somewhere high above them Zephyros screeched, just before he fell down from the skies with folded wings towards a spot where he could tear apart enemy formations with tooth and claw.

"To glory," Gnarl muttered involuntarily, from his vantage point in the Netherworld.

Zephyros wasn't the only one to fall down with screaming wings.

The three Unholy Minions soared over the army, searching for places where they could make their power count in strategic ways. Well, Fever and Goudvis were. Stabbit came down very soon, hooked on to a plastered wall with claws and wings and belched thick green clouds of gas into the windows of every house he could reach with a mighty rumbling sound. The screams of the people hiding inside soon turned to insane laughter, then coughing. Stabbit clambered further in search of new windows and victims.

Not far from the green Unholy, salamanders hooked on to the walls. They were accompanied by reds without mounts – a lot of them had perished in the battle on the fields. Simmer's mount was no more, trampled by a Gargantuan and immediately exploded, as Simmer himself had barely been fast enough to get away. Now the red stuck by his best friend, Sear, who fortunately still had his salamander with him – without the animal the one-armed Minion wouldn't be able to climb any longer.

The two looked up in pleasant surprise as Stabbit filled their block with gas. Simmer's glowing hands had been firmly pressed to the wall, but now he pulled them loose, called forth the smallest of flames... and him and Sear were sprinting along the smudgy walls, as half of the block burst apart not a second later. Debris screamed through the air, crushing the fighting parties in the street and damaging other buildings. The action was picked up by other reds, and soon Stabbit's scrambling course along the walls was followed by gargantuan explosions. Men and Minions dove away to the left and right, some of them roaring with laughter because of pure fun or the temporary insanity of the gas. Eventually the chaos reached Sayron, who'd made good use of the confusion by marching on quite a bit further, but was having trouble with the flying debris now. He turned around and bored his gaze into the eyes of the green flyer, clinging to a wall with a smoking maw. "No more," he ordered in a thundering voice. Stabbit stared back, and for a moment his eyes seemed to darken, but then he jumped up from the wall with flapping wings and clawed himself up into the sky.

Simmer and Sear flew from the inferno like smoking stars, together with a whole lot of other Minions in varying degrees of singedness. The blues immediately hurried out of the horde to heal them.

Jinx landed next to Sayron on hands and knees. "We can't go back any longer," she remarked, glancing back to the devouring fire.

"We haven't been able to since we emerged from the Black Gate," the Overlord replied. "Come on, we haven't even left the suburbs."

In the Minion vanguard there were a few so reckless it almost had to mean they were here for something else than just their Master and the pure joy of battle. There were a few who had something to prove.

Scythe wasn't the most loved leader the greens had had. He didn't take that much responsibility, didn't even always walk in the front and refused the challenges of other clan members. He didn't have the best reputation with the clan. But he'd had enough of that now. He furiously tried to get to the centurion of this legion, to lower the morale of the soldiers and raise his own status with his death. He was up against two other greens worth noting, however. Whisper was clawing off people's throats to the left and right, and many of his victims wore black tunics. He was assisted by Ramul. It wasn't the easiest occupation to eliminate the Empire's finest one after the other, and the two bled on all sides, from cuts and stab wounds, inflicted by the elite soldiers' swords and spears, but each apart was more successful than Scythe. The current leader was hissing with frustration. He knew the horde was watching, however fierce the battle was, however distracted they were.

And then, just when Scythe had free range and raised his claws to the flabby throat of the man in the red cloak, another Minion was ahead of him. A small brown shot between the legs of the men behind him, flew past the green and flashed behind the centurion. Then Kniff flung himself, the tips of the cloak clenched in his claws, over the commander's head, pulled out his weapon and stabbed it squarely in the windpipe. The centurion collapsed gurgling.

Scythe's eyes widened, and for a moment he appeared about to raise his claw knives against the brown Minion, but then a rumbling coursed through the ground. All Minions in the direct surroundings shot away.

Then the ground beneath the legion opened, and Omari's sand worm dug itself up, with crushing jaws and a mighty roar. Not all Minions had been fast enough, and a few were flung away by the force of the beast. Scythe and Whisper flew into opposite directions.
As Whisper scrambled to his feet, Ramul was grinning at him a few feet away. "Will be alright," the spider rider hissed. "Won't be leader for long." Then he flung himself onto his waiting spider's back and shot up a shattered wall.

The sandworm and the yeti joined forces, and from the other side of the legions Zephyros took every opportunity to throw himself between the men. Time and time again his wings were pierced and ripped by swords and arrows, and his snout was dripping with blood that wasn't all from his prey, but on his back Drip constantly strained his healing magic. Every wound rippled as if water streamed over it, and healed. Only pale scars remained on the dark webs of his wings, and the flyer kept attacking with unabated rage and aggression.

On Sayron's side of the battle, bits of wall and roof kept coming down, and he was forced to use his lightning shields as much as he could to protect his own armies.

Then a roar coursed through the air. The Overlord abruptly looked up and shook the blood from his eyes. This didn't sound good…

At the head of his army he could see what was coming his way. Armoured figures, broad as houses. Helmets with slit-shaped eyeholes. Fists like boulders.

They had more Gargantuans. They had so many more Gargantuans.

Stabbit soared over the oncoming mob and let green gas stream from his maw, but where he could glide over the clouds without beating his wings, Zephyros' heavy flapping almost immediately blew them away. Jinx ran forward and put her hands to her mouth to yell, but Sayron kept her standing.

"He's thinning them! We can't rely on the gas alone!"

"Then how?" Jinx shouted. She desperately clenched her ropes, her eyes flashing between Sayron and the Gargantuans. "Sayron, we haven't even left the suburbs!" she echoed his earlier words.

The Overlord briefly shook his head. That was all he had time for before he was forced to defend himself with all his strength, facing the mountain of flesh now descending upon him.
His lightning and mace flashed equally bright in the struggle that followed. Riding Ruau, the Overlord almost reached his opponent's eye height; the only one he managed to block by himself, though he could electrocute a few others by flinging around lightning at random, turning their bodies into a low barricade to slow the rest of them. He didn't succeed at that with the Gargantuan attacking him directly. Missed blows shook the wall behind the Overlord, and bits of rubble came tumbling down. Further back the Ruborians and Nordbergians fell out to stop the flood of giant warriors, but the breaking of bones did come mainly from their side.

This wasn't good. The Overlord and his armies hadn't been counting on this, and neither had Stabbit.

The two other flyers were still soaring high above the city, in search of their own suitable targets. Fever knew for certain there was something in the city, especially for him, calling out to him… but he couldn't find it yet. It did resemble the Nordbergian fireworks storage so much he couldn't abandon the search, however.

Goudvis, too, knew he would be able to give the right push somewhere, but he couldn't find out where. Perhaps it was too far away now.

Then Fever spun from the air. He'd found his goal, closer to the heart of Arcadiopolis, where the buildings were higher and white pillars dominated the streets.

It was a large, square building, in the typical Imperial style of architecture. White marble, but he knew there was common brick beneath that thin layer. The Empire was young – only founded after Vessperion's fall, twenty years ago – and despite the grand appearance the Glorious Empire was barely more than an inflated settlement, worth less than Spree's farmlands. Fever knew it, and his black-lined eyes saw it as he ripped away parts of the roof with ivory claws.

Shelves and shelves full of spherical objects, large, so large he couldn't take too many of them in his claws at once. Not many, but just enough…

He'd felt destruction, not surprising considering what he was. Not surprising, but useful. Useful and fun…

Fever, the red flyer, outstretched all four of his claws and swiped them through the Imperial bomb arsenal, and grabbed more than a dozen bombs of the kind that'd been used against them that very same morning, launched from the catapults on the city wall. Then he kicked away from the devastated roof, soared over the city with slightly more trouble than before, and opened his foot claws.

Fire sprayed down amidst the Gargantuan hordes. From the back of their ranks the red flyer heard the shouting of commands, and soldiers started pulling the huge creatures away from the vanguard, to attempt and save them to fight in another attack.

Not if it was up to Fever. His fingers relaxed and new bombs followed those from his foot claws. Then he beat his wings and glided back to the arsenal to get more.

The Gargantuans were irrevocably chased apart by the explosions. Sayron stared up with streaming eyes, peering through the clouds of smoke and the rising fire, and saw red wings cut through the air. The role of the flying Minions was far from over, it would seem.

He stared up as his mount raced through the scattered formations at breakneck speed, faster and faster through the suburbs until the houses grew less grubby and rickety and white, flawless marble took over. The buildings were higher here and he felt the urge to stare up while turning around, just like when he'd been brought into the Arena.

At the back of the Overlord's formations Stabbit was still belching his gas around, and everyone inhaling it almost immediately started laughing breathlessly, fell upon his knees coughing or burst into jolting, hysterical dance. Some soldiers stabbed around without control, unable to discern friend from foe any longer, so Sayron's rearguard could easily take them out one by one.

During this wild ride the Minions really got into the mood. Rampus, a brown who'd always been more reckless than the average – or to Sayron's liking – fell out away from the hordes time and time again to attack random people, so the path the Minions took no longer held any survivors. If the Overlord were to have seen it, he might not have been too happy, as he planned to keep Arcadiopolis' population largely intact, as he'd done with Nordberg and Ignavopolis. Dead people didn't make very good subjects.

There were many Minions who did know as much. Rasp, the leader of the Minions from Ignavopolis, and his friend Nails tried to keep Rampus on track, but without much success.

As the bloodthirsty Minion kept busy with everything that moved, they had their claws full with the remaining soldiers and the Gargantuans spared by Fever's bombardment. The red flyer was still circling above them, claws full of gleaming projectiles, but he couldn't drop them now without striking the army itself.

Then the Minions too reached the richer parts of the city, and the screaming started – the higher-pitched screams, the screams so much sweeter than those of dying soldiers, the screams of terrified people, of women and children, of civilians. Minions burst into homes to all sides and dragged out the women, stole the jewellery and ripped togas off fat bodies, filled themselves with wine and even broke down pillars and statues, sometimes aided by the flames of the salamanders making the marble and granite crack with their intense heat atop every wall and roof. Sayron let himself go as well, in the end, flinging around lightning in a way he hadn't done often before, but he did seem to spare the people who didn't attack him.

Gnarl sounded raspier than normal as he made himself heard again. "Put an end to those over-privileged spongers, Sire!"

"I don't know, Gnarl, this is fun too," Sayron chuckled with his eyes on a few men and women who'd just thrown themselves before Ruau's hooves, heads down and their arms outstretched to him. "Fun, and easier."

"Greed and avarice in the face of innocence and poverty are our traits! Crush the competition, Master!"

"Not now, Gnarl."

"As long as you know where the glory is to be had, Master…"

"Certainly," Sayron grinned. "You'll be seeing enough blood, don't worry."

"Do hurry, Solarius is growing stronger by the minute."

"No time to lose," the Overlord nodded. "Minions! Less fun, more haste!"

A chorus of raspy voices went up in the area his voice could be heard. "Yes, Master!"

Sayron's army had spread widely by now, both the men and the Minions. The Minions took more effort to actually enter houses, however, being smaller and having less scruples to kill the people barring their way. In the end, the humans and elves had more ethical dilemmas, even though this was the Empire.

And so the four hordes rushed through large villas, the dwellings of slaves, temples to the Empire's many young gods, and a huge bathhouse at top speed. The blue Minions didn't know what they were seeing as they arrived at the latter; giant surfaces of water in the shape of many baths, some cold, some so hot steam came off them. Fountains sprayed the water around everywhere, sculptures let it flow from their mouths and hands, and in many places it splattered down along the walls. Ferns and hanging plants concealed some corners from view, and behind them lay even more welcome water.

It was hard to not become distracted here. For the Minions, at least. The Imperials in the baths turned their attention to the new visitors all too easily. None of them was in the position to defend themselves, however, sometimes because of their lack of armour or any clothing at all, sometimes because of a combination of excess fat and a lack of clothing, and the browns and greens amused themselves greatly; soon some baths were as red as Solarius' banner. Most of the blues clambered out of those baths, swearing at the warriors as they went.

Initially the bathhouse seemed to be amusement to the hordes only, and most of the Minions quickly left it, certainly the members of the three clans unable to swim. The blues remained there longer, but they only really started paying attention as the steam from the hotter baths disappeared, and some of the cold ones froze over completely.

The waterfalls faltered, and frost appeared on the walls…

Above the city Goudvis finally heard his calling clearly. Clear as the purest ice.

He'd been soaring low over the rooftops, searching at the edges of uptown, but only now did he really see his goal. He should have known.

Now the blues were inside, it was all so logical. He arrived there not a minute later.

He grinned. "Turn the Netherworld into sewers, Marius?" he spoke to the wind. "I think not…" He beat his wings forward, so he came hanging in the air upright and soared up above his target. White, icy cold mist surrounded him as he bent his webbed fingers into claws and threw back his head. Fierce, black-lined eyes pierced the sky, and the clouds seemed to back away before the intensity of his gaze.

"The sewers… I am the sewers!" His voice echoed through the air, down to the bathhouse, and every tone resonated though the pipes and sluices bringing the water in, deep down to the sewers beneath the city. Fine white veins of freezing cold branched away over the algae-covered metal.

From deep within the system a muted sound came, vibrating and low. It did resemble a croak.

Then countless pipes burst apart, and dozens of water-supplying points in the bathhouse flew open; in the walls, at the bottom of the baths, even in the ceiling. A few elegant hallways further a whole row of toilets suddenly exploded, and after that the halls were a lot less elegant altogether.

In the bathhouse brown sludge leaked into the clear water, and a lot of blues hoisted themselves out of the baths at once. None of them fled the bathhouse, however.

Then something gurgled up through the veils of sludge, to the surface of the baths, simultaneously, from all drains. Small bubbles burst apart. The blues and a few Imperial survivors carefully bent over the baths.

Then the first blunt head appeared, with a greyish skin, a broad mouth and golden, glistening eyes. Powerful legs propelled the creature upwards, and it reached the surface and then the edge of the bath with great speed. There, it reached the blues with a single leap.

It was an Imperial giant frog, and the first of many. From all the holes in the walls and on the bottoms of the baths a true wave of the animals appeared, and the croaking from the sewers now took over the bathhouse.

The Minions outside had apparently noticed quite a few blues had remained inside while they were needed in the streets, because Miko and Soaker, the blue leader, now struggled their way in through the masses of fleeing citizens. Those two kept standing immediately as they saw the frogs, however, and they stared at the amphibian mass with wide eyes.

"What…"

"Sayron defeated the Frog King!" Miko shouted. "The frogs are ours! Soaker…" He turned to the blue leader with a shark's grin. "Spider Queen, Salamander King… Frog King."

"Mounts?" Soaker uttered in disbelief. "For us?"

"Come on!" Miko ran forward, approached a frog and lay a hand on the blunt snout. The frog bent its head and slightly lowered itself on its hind legs. Miko carefully slung a leg over the broad, slippery back and lay his hands around the head. The frog immediately took a leap towards the exit of the bathhouse. The blue Minion cheered with joy. "Soaker, come on! You have the right to the biggest, fattest frog you can find!"

The blue leader looked around in a daze as half his clan picked mounts, but then took action and approached an amphibian in the heart of the frog swarm. The creature was huge, perhaps the largest of them, and his mouth was at least a meter wide. Soaker knew it was true – he now truly was a match for Scythe and Hoarse and Jinx, he was entitled to the largest mount.

As the blues left the bathhouse it was with giant leaps, far faster than they could have ran, and they swiftly joined the battle again. There Soaker set an example with a quickly concocted strategy. He guided his frog to the piles of dead and made sure his mount took three dead Minions in its mouth, and quickly jumped out of the battle again, before something could harm his frog. The rest of the clan soon followed. With the help of the frogs they were far faster and less vulnerable than normal – the blue clan wouldn't have to revive its own members anytime soon.

While the blues had discovered the bathhouse, a whole lot of Minions had hugely amused themselves in another building altogether. To be honest it seemed the majority of the armies was being drawn here, Minions as well as men and elves. It was an eating house, the most gigantic eating house the hordes had ever seen, grander and more hung with food than Drearius' villa or even Melvin's kitchen of old. Everyone was hungry, as the battle had started early that morning and no one had really had a break up to now. The Minions put their teeth into everything edible without control, and into some inedible things too; some Ruborians took time to actually pick spices, and the elves regarded all meat eaters with a haughty sort of disgust, but carefully ignored the new habits of their own queen.

One of the first blues who'd discovered the eating house, perhaps the first to enter it, couldn't believe his luck. He'd always been a little fatter than the average blue, something that didn't impair him while swimming, however. He'd become Quaver's apprentice shortly after his spawning; the bard also oversaw a lot of the cookery in and around the Tower, and the blue resembled him in being interested in finer food than the fish from the cold stream.

The blue's name was Thud, and at this moment he was busy filling empty bombshells with the spiciest sauces he could find, at the same time combining the many ingredients from the kitchens into dishes and concoctions not appealing to everyone. Most of it was flung back at him, but Thud knew for certain he'd be a great chef one day.

As time went on and the sun climbed ever closer to its zenith all dark armies streamed towards the eating house. The staff and the rest of the Imperials had fled long ago, and Sayron's side had free range now. Eventually the Overlord himself had no choice left and he followed his men. The battle came to a standstill, but Fever, Stabbit and Goudvis made sure the Empire couldn't claim back what terrain they'd lost; the green Unholy kept them laughing, dancing and dying, and Fever guarded the borders of Sayron's advance with bombs and jets of flame. Goudvis let ice rain down every now and then, but he'd clearly discovered a new hobby with the sewers; everywhere in Arcadiopolis pipes and toilets now exploded, and the blue flyer couldn't seem to stop laughing.

Eventually the eating house was abandoned in a kind of mass exodus. Some had armed themselves in the meantime; Thud with his sauce grenades, many others with kitchen knives, forks and in the single case, spoons, and quite a few reds had equipped themselves with bottles of liquor that could come in handy as molotovs when the need arose.

The need did arise rather quickly. The Unholy Minions had kept the Empire at a distance, but there was a clear border, and a whole company of Sentinels was now forcing the flyers back steadily. The hooded figures were shielded from Fever's explosions by a combination of rubble and Gargantuans.

Sayron's armies knew how to handle that. First the men were sent forward to deal with the Sentinels, then the Minions quickly followed to help with the Gargantuans as the Ruborians and Nordbergians could no longer outrun them. The last few Sentinels were shot down from the rubble by Masud, Minc and the other archers.

From there the advance was swift. In the eating house some mount had eaten things they weren't used to, so some frogs gave up strangely shaped pellets the soldiers didn't react that well to, the salamanders breathed out jets of flame of varying colour reaching further than ever in some cases, and a whole lot of spiders were actually hyperactive now. The same applied to the Minions. And even in the cases where the food hadn't had any influences the armies had found new strength, and that was exactly what they needed now time probably started running out. The Emperor was still waiting in the Palace, and he probably grew stronger every moment.

It was Fever who eventually broke the last barricade separating them from the next stage of their assault. A row of massive villas was flattened at once by one of his bombs, and as the dust settled and the hornbeast carried Sayron forward, he and his first followers had a view of a slightly singed field, sectioned by marble paths in a geometric pattern. Now the houses were gone the Overlord could also look up at the rest of the city – the heart of Arcadiopolis lay on a high hill, and from here he could see an enormous building, with high white walls, hung with red banners, and connected to an even slightly higher construction which couldn't be anything other than the Arena, though he'd only ever seen that place from the inside.

The Palace, however, was surrounded by something he had seen before – an unmistakable blue haze.

"Look, Solarius is cowering behind his very own anti-magic shield," Gnarl scoffed. "It's time to stop that malarkey, we'll need our magic in there."

"I'm trying my best to figure out how, Gnarl."

Behind them Fever flew away to gather more bombs from the arsenal, even though it was burning by now – it'd been reached by fires from the surroundings, and no one took an effort to extinguish them. Soon he wouldn't have any munition anymore, but hopefully the battle would be decided by then. Stabbit and Goudvis were flying around elsewhere, busy terrorizing other parts of the city; it didn't seem like they let themselves be commanded by Sayron any longer.

Past the field before the troops lay a low marble wall, broken by a single copper gate. People thronged before that gate, pounding it with their fists and screaming, but the legion on the wall didn't even look at them. They only had eyes for the army approaching through the clouds of dust – Sayron on Ruau's back, the yeti at his left hand, the Ruborian sand worm breaking through the houses a little way behind him, and everywhere around him the people, elves and mainly the Minions. Jinx appeared atop a pile of debris, trying not to cough, and feasted her eyes in amazement. "Lord, we're almost at the Fountains! Solarius' inner circle!"

"I can see that," Sayron spoke. "A few hours to go, at most…"

Then a command from the wall cut through the dust-laden air. "Throw your bombs!"

"But there are citizens out there, centurion!" it resounded.

"They'll die in glory for their Empire, soldier!"

"But…!"

"That was an order!" the commander's deeper voice rang out. At the same moment Sayron raised his mace. Dark wings also cut through the air; Zephyros was on his way.

"Reds – climb that wall and kill them!" the Overlord roared.

"Hail! Hail! Hail to Solarius!" a slightly uncertain voice resounded. At the same time the first bombs rained down from the ranks on the wall. The cry was taken up by others, and it didn't take long before all soldiers on the wall were chanting, some with their eyes firmly shut at the white wall beneath them was painted red with blood and entrails, by far not all of them from Sayron's army. The Overlord slowed in shock and stared at the bloodbath – he hadn't expected the Empire to kill its own this easily.

But the reds shot through the flames on their salamanders and climbed the wall with a speed reserved to only them, and Jinx, too, flew between the explosions. Not much later a struggle ensued on the wall as well, and it turned out elite soldiers had been standing behind the bomb throwers – black tunics. Some of those let themselves fall from the wall as soon as the bomb throwers ran out of munition, and the two armies threw themselves against each other. The roar of the yeti and the rumble of the sand worm were even drowned out by Zephyros' high screech.

"Where's Fever?" Jinx shouted down from the wall, pushing two bomb throwers down into the sand worm's waiting maw, open wide just above the ground. "This wall needs to be broken open!"

"No idea, Jinx, we have to do it," was the answer from Sayron's side, still on the field. "Can you get the gate open?"

Jinx glanced down the other side of the wall, during the few seconds of respite the soldiers granted her. There she saw even more grass, with the first Fountain in the heart of it; one of Solarius' sacred altars to himself, surrounded with people – civilians who'd been evacuated from the surrounding areas, thinking they'd be safe here. This was the first time she ever saw one of the Fountains, and for a moment she was distracted, despite the hapless prey behind the wall. She'd never been able to venture this deep into the richest parts of her own city.

But it was teeming with soldiers at the foot of the wall, and even with some salamanders and spider riders she wouldn't succeed in opening the gate from the other side. For that, the wall needed to be broken open, so everyone could pass. "Omari!" she shouted into the fighting mass. "Get over here, use that worm of yours!"

"The jaws of the Lord of Sands are already damaged, milady!" the rolling Ruborian accent came back, somewhere to her left. Jinx peered into that direction, but couldn't make out the mage. "There's no other way! Come on!"

"That's an order too, Omari," Sayron thundered.

"Yes, my Lord!" A few loud commands in brusque Ruborian resounded from the slaughter, and the sand worm's maw retracted into the earth for a moment. Shortly after a tremor coursed beneath the marble paths and the blood-stained grass, straight for the wall. Jinx, the reds and the greens threw themselves aside, just in time – in a thundering explosion of marble shards, the two unhinged copper gates and lots of soldiers the wall burst apart.

This time Sayron didn't wait for the dust to settle. He immediately stormed forward, closely followed by all the others. He didn't have much choice as Ruau suddenly slowed down, however – a blue light flared just before the hornbeast's nose. Sayron expected Marius and already swept his mace forward, but the weapon got stuck in the thick skin of a Gargantuan – one of the two that'd suddenly appeared to block his way.

Marius was there, however, atop the remains of the wall, as he'd done before. To Sayron's great surprise the Speaker was grinning. The skinny Imperial looked over the heads of the Overlord and the Gargantuans to the people thronging around the Fountain. "Drink, good people," his voice rang out. "Solarius will protect you. The Nectar will save you."

Immediately his words were obeyed, and as Sayron and the others struggled with the Gargantuans the people crowded around the enormous marble Fountain to dip their hands and faces into the water. The ones to drink it threw back their heads, and some raised up their arms as if in overwhelming ecstasy. "I feel alive," one of them uttered. "So alive. So ready to… kill!" Here his voice turned into something rasping, something gurgling and terrible. And before the eyes of Sayron's army their skins turned to a dull, but all too familiar grey, and their eyes paled into white.

The Fountain created a growing number of mutants, exactly like the mutants from the Wasteland. There had to be ooze mixed through the water. And strangely enough the sight of the mutations didn't repel the healthy people at all – the fear of Sayron was stronger. The promise of Solarius was stronger.

Jinx looked around in shock. They were surrounded by a crescent of zombies… swift, lethal zombies. Their bite meant mutation. But slowing here meant a stronger Emperor. She gripped her sword, briefly closed her eyes, and stormed forward again.

Only to slow as she heard Sayron call out her name. She abruptly turned, as obedient as a real Minion for a moment.

"Jinx! You know where the other Fountains are! Lead Fay and the others there, I can handle this!"

She stared at him for a moment, then nodded. "There's four, Fay and I will go to the first two. The last one lies just before the Palace, I'll see you there!" Sayron nodded back, squinting to shield his eyes from the heat of nearby salamander fire. "Good luck!"

Jinx didn't waste any time and shot right through to the elven queen. Soon two separate legions hurried away, to split not far from the Overlord – small, fast groups weren't easily stopped by the mutants and soldiers. Sayron saw Jinx lead a whole group of Minions and Ruborians north through the violence, and Fay took a part of her elves south. Then he was forced to pay attention to his own battle. Determined, he cut himself a way towards the white marble Fountain – the epicentre of the horde of mutants.

A division of human and elf soldiers flank General Herbison as he strides through the streets to reinforce the Overlord.

General: In the words of a great artist of war, 'Know thyself, know thy enemy. A thousand battles, a thousand victories.' Ah Sun Tzu, where would I be without his teachings.

Elf: You study war?

General: The art of war is both terrible and beautiful. Here's another quote, 'Let your great objective be victory, not lengthy campaigns.' In other words, try to win a fight without drawing it out and costing more lives and destruction.

Elf: You humans seem to relish warfare.

General: Shut up you hippie. Now get over there and kill some Imperials, for Jinx!

His forces stare: What?

General coughs quickly: I mean… for the Overlord!

The troops cheer and run past.

General: That was awkward… please review readers.