The Queen of Arendelle had opened her eyes after her sudden encounter with the soldiers of Prince Hans. As she slowly awakened from her slumber, a strange sensation emanated in the back of her mind but she knew not why. Elsa noticed that her hands were tied behind a pole. She raised her head to learn what had befallen her.

She found herself placed in an elaborate tent, quite similar to the one she lived in at the base camp. Yet, it was quite distinct with the number of chests lying around and a table at the center, covered with maps and charts. Her eyes saw past its legs to see that the entrance was across from her while she heard the words of angry German and regimented footsteps.

Two dark figures approached before the flaps were raised by the guards outside. A piece of her mind knew who it was but the heart still retained reservations. As they stepped into the darkened atmosphere of the tent, Prince Hans of the Southern Isles revealed himself. The other was different and yet familiar. She observed his clothes until it made her realize that it was one of the bandits responsible for kidnapping her sister. Their cooperation was now finalized as the poor excuse of a royal had walked over to his table of maps.

He had stolen a glance to his left towards a bottle and a tray laid atop a wardrobe. "I am fortunate that my family's finest wine has survived the onslaught. If you wish, Saul, you may take it for yourself. There is plenty of it for me back home."

"Don't mind if I do," Commented the Russian raider as he walked over to the enticing black bottle, "It sure beats the typical piss my guys get in the desert."

"I do recommend to be careful. Can't have you getting drunk on me right now. We still have an invasion to run."

Saul waved his hand off at the words of caution. "I'll be fine. Nothing is more satisfying than drinking after a hard-fought victory."

Elsa watched as the prince paused at his maps. He seemed to be confused or trying to solve a problem through his facial expression. Yet, his eyes wandered throughout the tent until his gaze met hers. Then he smiled as he began to forgo his attention on his plans by walking towards the queen as the captor. When he was close enough, the snake of a prince had knelt to a single knee "She's awake! Apologies, my dear. I did hope that I would return to Arendelle with the hopes of marriage but as you can tell, other affairs got in the way."

"Why?" She asked as she shook her head in disbelief at their current relationship. Her mind went back to the time they first met at her coronation, "What could cause you to do all of this?"

"I told you a long time ago. I am the thirteenth son to the throne of the Southern Isles, the last in line to take the throne. My father was a man who wanted strong sons but I seem to defy his expectations."

What purpose did he have to tell her this? Was this to sympathize with his plight? Did he want to get under her skin about being the poor child who was never given a chance? "So you wanted my throne, instead?"

"Of course. My father may have shown ill will against me but I would never consider taking up arms or acting against him or my brothers by other means," He answered nonchalantly as the prince began to sit across from her, "The public wouldn't hear the end of it. That was until I heard of the news of your coronation. It was the perfect opportunity to make a name for myself."

"I don't believe you would truly think that would be it."

He let out a small chuckle. "You are right to think that. My father and brothers would not approve of me just simply marrying into royalty but to be the head of one. News of your kingdom's quiet nature had reached everyone and perhaps I could have used that to my advantage but alas, the Russians from another world had seemed to interfere with everything."

"They were the only obstacle to taking my throne," Elsa understood as she grasped the severity of how close this man was too controlling her kingdom, "So that's why the bandits kidnapped my sister?"

"Close. They are meant to be a distraction for them and find a way to destroy their forces and weaken them enough to be a non-factor."

Now was the time to address an issue that plagued her thoughts when that ice harvester spoke of his treachery. He was being so open that perhaps enticing him to reveal his plan would grasp the prince's thinking. "So that also means that your profession of our love was a lie? Was our supposed proposal a mere ruse to get you close?"

"Yes," Hans so eagerly answered as his obnoxious smile took over his face and he reached forward to cup her chin, "At your coronation, I saw what you were, a girl who truly didn't know anything about love. So desperate for someone to reciprocate your affection. It is a shame how your heart blinded you from grasping the situation."

"You're wrong."

That statement alone had taken him aback as the conversation was now in her favor. Her heart had found love elsewhere in a man who knew the truth of her powers while she knew the truth of his secrets. Elsa couldn't help but laugh as the treacherous redhead did not seem to understand. "Why are you laughing? What could truly be so funny about your inability to recognize your weakness?"

"I loved you but the truth was my heart belonged to someone else," Answered the queen as she leaned back against the pole she was tied against, "It took time; however, you would always be a tenth of the man that he is."

"Who? Tell me?"

A smug expression was all she could give. "Artyom."

"He's dead. There is no reason for you to have any care for a man who lies beyond the grave," The young man reasoned as he brought himself to his feet and towered over her, "You're mad."

"No, it is you who is gravely mistaken. He lived when everyone thought he had died but the truth was, Artyom was stronger than you could imagine and our love was closer than you will ever be. If it was not for him, my sister would be at your mercy. If it was not for him, your army would have not suffered at the dam."

Hans clenched his hand into a fist and lashed out. His swing was too fast for her to dodge, causing pain in her head as her gaze fell to the left. "Say what you want to believe in but my army will crush your kingdom and all of those who oppose me. Your Russian bastard will die trying to save it."

"Then you know very little about him," She courageously stated while the pain echoed throughout her body, "When he learns about me as your prisoner - your dreams will turn to nightmares, you will fear the shadows when darkness falls, and your fear will match his wrath."

"We'll see about that."

He took a few steps away from her as his head turned towards the only other person in the room. The bandit had been watching the whole conversation play out.

"Saul, ready the troops. Help me destroy this rabble and you will receive what is owed."

The Russian was quick to leave the tent without a single word spoken while the prince gave her a hateful stare at him. It seemed that her descriptions of Artyom were enough to incite him to do something rash but as she looked into his soul, the prince's eyes felt a tinge of fear. Even though he was trying to show strength, it seemed like it was enough to terrify him.

The quick response force had camped out near their positions on their side of the valley. Throughout the night, it had been an affair of sparse fighting between the Russians and their foes across a flooded riverbed. Musketeers would let out several volleys of gunfire, only to receive bursts of machine gun fire or the wrath of the horse artillery. It was difficult to sleep under the conditions of this noise and the drop in the temperature.

Two men and a wolf watched this exchange occur many times as Artyom pulled a cigarette to release the build-up of smoke within. His railgun rested in his lap while the wolf sat beside him, hiding underneath his plash palatka for shelter. Meanwhile, Pavel was sitting down on his right, munching away at the tin can of knäckebröd that was bought a day earlier. A bush had kept them hidden from the sight of prying eyes while they watched the flurry of gunfire exchanged between their side and the enemy. For the men of the post-apocalyptic Moscow Metro, it was considered another Tuesday.

The volume of fire had slowly begun to die down as Artyom brought his uncapped canteen to quench his thirst. Cold water flowed and splashed within, refreshing his body from the exhaustion of the previous day. Flying in a helicopter to gun down sailors and immediately riding out for a desperate defense against a river crossing in so little time was impressive for a man such as himself. Especially, on top of everything else he had experienced.

It was strange that amidst all of the fighting and destruction, one could find beauty in seeing the snowflakes descend from above.

Soon the mood had changed thanks to the sound of shoes rustling against the leaves or the crack of wooden branches behind their backs. Pavel looked over his shoulder and spoke with his mouth still full of the snacks. "Oh look, company. What does Roman have for us?"

"Artyom, Pavel, we got some bad news." The duo turned around to find the child of the Forest and Honeymaren following him as they came forward, "She has something to say."

The Northuldran spoke up with a clear voice. "Your foes have taken the long route. Some of the shore parties that landed south of the dam bypassed the camp near our border and reached the main army."

"Something has to be done."

They had to confer with the other leaders of the quick response force. Artyom rose as his wolf came to all fours. "We need to talk to Vaska and Uhlman about this."

When the observation of the battlefield was over, the party had begun to make their way from the frontline over to the support positions where the Russian cavalry and the soldiers of the post-apocalypse resided. It had been a clearing filled with campfires, each having several platoons of men huddling around the flames as they simply waited. Walking past these men, was a moment to be judged by the crowd but their hesitations and concerns were kept silent throughout each passing of a fire pit.

Uhlman and Vaska were on the opposite side of where the group had arrived in. As they grew closer, it was clear that those two were trying to make out a plan through a diorama built through nothing except rocks and twigs. Then the Polis Ranger noticed them approaching before he slapped the shoulder of the nobleman and pointed at the de-facto 'head' of the group.

The first thought on the soldier's mind was the purpose of the makeshift diorama. "What are you two doing?"

"Looking over the situation we have at the dam," Answered Vaska as he drew his cavalry sabre and pointed the tip of his blade towards the middle that separated the sides, "I'm worried that we might have to deal with something thinking they could build under fire."

"That won't be the case anymore. Our Northuldran guide has information that changes everything."

Prince Dolokhov turned his head and became puzzled. "How so?"

"We're being flanked," Honeymaren stated so bluntly as she pointed at the opposite side of the dam and traced the direction of movement with her finger, "My friends have noted movement coming around the lake where the dam once held up. They're going to slingshot around and attack the base camp from the east. The Arendelle royals will take the brunt of the attack."

"God be with us, even after we flooded a fraction of their troops it's not enough."

A thought occurred to Artyom about the status of the main force coming for them. They could not be the only ones to have to respond to this maneuver. "Uhlman, did you check any status from the main force?"

"Yes and it's not good," He shook his head in disappointment as his hand reached for his radio, "Colonel Mel'nikov says that there has been a delay. The ground pressure might be too weak for the tanks and the trees are interfering with their mobility. He's trying but he's being slowed down."

"Damn it all. We can't just let Arendellians and the others take the full brunt of this attack. Even with the infantry regiments left behind, they're at their mercy."

Pavel closed the tin can and tossed it into his knapsack before speaking up about his opinion. "We have to come to their aid then. There's not much of a choice."

"Perhaps," Considered Vaska as he brushed his fingers against his small beard, "Who will remain at the dam to prevent a river crossing?"

Roman answered. "My people and I will volunteer. It's the least we can do while you guys go ahead."

"If that is the case then we'll also leave our horse artillery to leave behind some decent fire support."

The more senior Polis Ranger grabbed his radio on his person and spoke. "With exception of the cannon crews and the wild people with crossbows, everyone and the cavalry regiments are to assemble at the support position. We'll brief all of you before we go."

"We have to tell them," Artyom remarked, knowing full well that this was not exactly a winnable situation they were going into, "They at least deserve that."

"Your call, comrade."

Time passed as the majority of the quick response force had begun to form after the personnel had spent hiding behind trees and rock. Horses were brought out as the cavalry-oriented troops eagerly mounted their saddles while the post-apocalyptic infantry begrudgingly ride their steads with great discomfort. Who could blame them? One was a force that was trained to fight on horseback while the other had little to no training to adjust to this strange aspect of warfare.

The imperials remained disciplined as the officers organized the riders in ranks while the soldiers of the wasteland were simply a mess. These troops had separated themselves from each other based on their respective factions. This discrepancy of professionalism between a number of these troops needed to be addressed in the future but hopefully, they would make do with what was present. Yet, he could see confusion in the eyes of his peers as the platoon leaders rode out in front of their groups. One of the soldiers of the Fourth Reich, a heavy trooper that was confronted in front of the Children of the Forest, had spoken. "What's going on? Why are we being called back from the fight?"

"We're being flanked," Artyom answered as he saw their disheartened expressions about their situation. It needed to be said as they faced a grim threat. "Prince Hans and his army have moved around the river and slingshot themselves to our flank from the east. The base camp where the Arendellians and the rest of our forces reside."

"They massively outnumber us. We can't beat them there. What of our reinforcements?"

The Polis Ranger stole a glance from Uhlman, who had been preparing his saddle beside him. He turned his head and whispered. "You have to tell them. They're your guys."

"Delayed," Came his response as the crowd of soldiers talked amongst each other, "If the enemy reaches the base camp, they would be able to trap us and the royals would be at their mercy."

"Forget about the royals. We can bypass them and meet up with the main force. That way we have a fighting chance."

The statement by the soldier of the Fourth Reich had left an impression on Artyom about their priorities. They were going to let the girls be at their mercy for a hint of survival and that knowledge irked him.

Pavel rode up to his left side and grabbed his attention. "Comrade, I won't leave Anna at the hands of those bastards. We have to help them."

"I'll do what I can," He replied before riding a few steps forward atop of Alastor. Then Artyom's presence managed to grab the attention of the platoon leaders and their men. They started to appear tense at him, "That is not an option. Those people cannot face Prince Hans alone."

The heavy trooper from earlier had expressed himself about the situation. "Did you not see their numbers yesterday? There's too many of them."

"I know that. I was almost killed trying to call the cruise missiles."

"Then you would know that we won't stand a chance if we fought them in the open," He explained as he turned towards the others, "I'm sure the Reds and Hansa are not so keen on dying out there in the middle of this damned forest."

Artyom looked to his right to see Prince Dolokhov ride from the company of his imperial regiments. "Listen to your commander, he's the one in charge here."

"I don't take orders from him, you peacock. We only followed him to get back to Arendelle, not to defend it. That prince only wants this kingdom, not our lives. We have no reason to stay here and fight."

They didn't have time to argue and any minute spent here would mean less time they could spend trying to save Elsa and Anna. However, the young man needed to bring a convincing argument that these soldiers would help them. "I understand your reservations. Now that you have returned to Arendelle and friendly company, you no longer have the desire to listen to me tell you about the threat we all face. Especially, with the massive army that is coming our way."

It was strange to have so many eyes look upon him as he spoke. Yet, the fear of being at the center of attention no longer mattered to the son of the apocalypse. Too much was at stake for old fears in the Moscow Metro to creep up on him.

"You all still have an obligation to fight for Arendelle. If it was not for the queen, we wouldn't have been permitted to settle down in her kingdom. It is thanks to her that we have a chance to grow old without the threats of mutants or the fear of radiation seeping into the water supply. Now Prince Hans intends to threaten everything we have earned up to this point. We have been an obstacle to his plans and if he should win, all of us will suffer, not just the Arendellians. Which means that our people and their futures would be threatened, something all of us have been striving to fight for."

He tightened the grip on the reins of his horse as he quickly thought about what they would gain in return for their sacrifice. They also deserved to know that.

"We owe Queen Elsa and Princess Anna our lives thanks to them. As a stalker and a Polis Ranger, I have a debt to pay for their act of kindness." Artyom stated as he noticed the few heads of the post-apocalypse approve of his words. "We cannot turn back on the people who gave us what was once lost during the fall of the bombs. We must aid for them for the futures of our children, for the tears of our mothers, and the courage of our fathers. We must fight."

A few seconds passed as the heir to the imperial throne of Russia waited for their response. The gazes of the men before him were now hardened with resolve, some even unable to resist the tears from falling out. He had called upon their emotions, perhaps bottled up inside for so long until now. Everything about this moment reminded Artyom of when he was back in the Moscow Metro when he saved the son of the station commander at Paveletskaya and brought him back to his people. The looks on their faces were just like the looks on the men before him.

"Will you follow me into this battle, comrades?"

The platoon leaders granted him their nods of approval as they began to order the troops to prepare their saddles for departure. It was a surprise to see his words' effects on them as he had no skill in speechcraft nor had any experience earning the rise out of his friends and neighbors at the Exhibition station. Perhaps listening to Sukhoi's speeches at the station meetings had an effect but he had his doubts.

Uhlman had clambered onto his horse and stood beside him with his Kalashnikov hanging from his shoulder. "It looks like they're ready. Do you want to do them the honors?"

"Yes," Soon the soldier had cleared his throat as he holstered his railgun into the side of Alastor's saddle, "Comrades, we ride to save our allies. For Arrendelle and the Motherland!"

What had followed was a battle cry that seemed to resonate, not just with the last trace of the Soviet Union, but also with the cavalry regiments who witnessed the whole scene themselves. Each putting effort into it from the depths of their soul. "Ura! Ura! Ura!"

Then he turned his head away in search of the guide. He looked over his shoulder to find Honeymaren atop a reindeer. "Lead the way, I'll follow."

She replied with a quick nod as the assembled army made its way towards their destination. A column of horsemen brought a swift and thunderous gallop in the early morning. Pavel, Uhlman, and Vaska rode by his side as they led the army to battle.

Princess Anna walked through the camp on her way to the mess tent. Gerda and Kai had been organizing the servants to make pancakes but the smell from the kitchen was enough to enthrall her to come over. Olaf accompanied her as he greeted any passers-by along the way. Despite being known, his presence was still a surprise as people were still adjusting to the byproducts of her sister's power.

The walking made her feel curious about the fate of the queen. Elsa had not returned since yesterday and her sudden disappearance was just as concerning as being separated by a wall of fog in Northuldra. However, it was different. She had been cryptic about sensing a strange danger towards the castle about never truly revealed the reasons for this strange sentiment. When she departed from the camp with the Nokk, Anna didn't know what to make of it. What was dangerous enough for her to leave?

Her arrival did not go unnoticed as the Russian soldiers smiled and nodded their heads in her direction. Even the officers dared to take off their hats and bow while Olaf remarked on the occasion. "They must like you."

"No," She answered as the princess walked past the lines of soldiers taking in their plates and approaching the royal table, on the other side of the area, where the family would have eaten if they were present, "They're just showing respect."

"What do we do while we wait for the others to come back?"

That was a genuine problem in itself as she wanted to help; yet, Artyom and Elsa were insistent on her staying out of the fights. "I don't know."

"You sound disappointed," He commented as they took their seats at the empty table, waiting for a meal, "Maybe you can do something that would liven this place a bit?"

"Like what?"

Olaf laughed as he removed the carrot for a nose and adjusted it on his face. "Maybe you can turn this into a great fortress that would scare the bad guys away."

"Really?" She was taken aback by the snowman's idea and the fact he was even suggesting that "Maybe I should?"

Gerda arrived at their table with a servant carrying a tray with several plates and a glass full of orange juice. "Your highness, we've made some chocolate pancakes specifically for you."

"Thank you!" Said an excited Anna, "Such a wonderful breakfast."

"You're welcome."

The servants bowed before departing from the table as the princess grabbed her fork and knife. She reached for a jar of syrup and poured it over the stack as her stomach growled. It was a fine meal for the morning before looking from her seat to see the line of soldiers waiting for their breakfasts while their tables remained empty.

Among those lines was one made up of Arendellian soldiers and guards who had been given the time off to eat but they too waited in line. As time continued to pass, while she ate, an officer stepped out and approached her. The dark-skinned man seemed disheartened before he bowed to her. "Your highness, my soldiers and I have been waiting in line for over an hour since they said the food was coming. I do not wish to annoy you with this request but can they finally open the kitchen?"

"You all have been waiting to eat before I came?" She asked, only to see him nod, "What's your name and rank?"

"Lieutenant Mathias, I was part of your father's royal escort when he visited Arendelle."

Her eyes widened with the implication of his revelation. "So you were some of the people that supposedly went missing back then"

"Yes," The soldier answered as he smiled at his recognition, "That was me."

"If that is the case, I'll see if they can give you and the others twice the rations for the trouble of your weight."

Mathias bowed his head once again. "You have my thanks."

A loud commotion had come from outside the camp as the princess heard people yell out. "Make way, make way!"

"We need to check what's going on," Anna quickly scooted her chair back and jumped to her feet before making her way to the east of the camp. As she passed by Olaf, she called for him as well. "Let's go, Olaf!"

The royal swiftly walked past the lines of concerned soldiers while the snowman and the Arendellian veteran followed after her. They expressed confusion as she left them in the meal area while making their way to the east side of the camp. As they made their way, Russian musketeers grabbed their weapons while the gallops of a rider approached them.

Out from the maze of tents, was a Northuldran riding towards her atop a reindeer. He was leaning forward for a minute before he leaned back and revealed a crossbow bolt embedded in his left shoulder. Then he began to slow down before the lieutenant rushed toward the wounded rider and started to help him down. Yet, the stranger still had the strength to speak. "The enemy's main army is coming in from the east. I just encountered their scouts. The rest are not far behind."

"That means they're coming for us," Anna realized before shouting out loud, "Everyone, we're going to be under attack soon. We need to prepare!"

At that moment, the camp stirred to life as soldiers rustled out of their tents and idle times and alerted their sleepy fellows. Flutes whistled into the air before the sounds of drummers had begun to beat. Men shouted and units were formed for the battle ahead.

The combined force of the Baron's men, Southern troops, and German mercenaries had made their way to the battleground. Prince Hans and his entourage of guards and liaisons for the mercenaries and the bandits had accompanied him as he rode past the surviving regiments and units. He stole a glimpse to find their disheartened souls whenever they turned their heads to see him. They were probably disappointed with the fighting from yesterday but if the thirteenth prince could brute force his way into Arendelle, the losses would be justifiable to his family.

His forces slowly marched while the first few elements engaged with the Arendellians and Russians ahead with the sounds of combat heard from afar. Fortunately, there was also a hill that overlooked those men as the main army marched tirelessly into battle. The young man looked to his men before pointing to the hill. "That is where our cannons will be as we watch."

Hans galloped his horse with great haste while the others followed. As they continued to make their way further west, it seemed like there were fewer trees and bushes in the way. Was this perhaps a sign that things would get easier if they head south afterward? A few seconds were spent as their steeds moved uphill and resisted gravity with every step of the way.

When they had reached its summit, the battlefield was clear for him to see. It was just an open and flat terrain that stood before him. As his main army arrived in the hinterlands of Arendelle, the prince saw further and witnessed the few cavalry patrols sent out, harassing troops that have taken refuge in the camp. Cuirassiers attempted to strike down the camp stragglers with their straightened sabres while black reiters rode close enough to fire a shot from their pistol. However, they were having trouble.

He reached for his spyglass in his saddlebag and took a closer look at the fighting in the distance. Although relatively smaller in number, when compared to his army, the young man noticed the green uniforms of imperial Russia among their ranks. Infantry regiments had taken to the defense of the camp, sealing off entrances with their bodies while their bayonets acted as spears. Any foolish cuirassiers that tried to touch them had been unhorsed by their animals not wanting to feel the brunt of their steel. With the main army here alongside their cannons, such defense would be of no consequence.

The prince lowered his tool while he watched his army set itself up below the hill. The first ranks made up of musketeers, the second with a mixture of pikemen and halberdiers in support, and the third being filled with the famed Landsknechts of the Holy Roman Empire. Meanwhile, the only forces that were kept in reserve of this major battle line were the cavalry and the soldiers of the Baron. Just as the men were slowly filling their positions, Hans watched as the cannon pieces were slowly being pushed uphill.

While they waited, he wanted some action to occur before the cannons could be brought to annihilate them. "Send forth the musketeers to fire on them. Saul, send out your men to join them."

"Sire, we still have men out there," One of the officers protested, "Shouldn't we call them back?"

"Their sacrifice will be remembered. Now do it."

The protesting officer nodded his head before riding down the hill while the rectangular battle formations broke a path for the rider to pass through to the front. Meanwhile, Saul reached for his radio and spoke. "Hey boys, you want some action? You'll get it. Everyone except for the ones with the canisters goes ahead."

Cheers broke out from among the hundreds of bandits that formed a majority of the Baron's military. The path that was once made for the officer earlier had remained open as they jogged towards it like wild men. Some of them carried nothing more than torches or simple bats as they arrived at the frontline.

The skirmishing with the cavalry patrols continued before the musketeers marched forward with the bandits walking beside them. With these two paradoxes of military professionalism together, it should be enough to weaken the foes of the artillery before. Meanwhile, the frozen ground became an opportunity for light snow to settle, allowing the first line to leave behind a trail of footprints in their weak.

Minutes passed until the troops had finally found themselves in range. White clouds of gunpowder puffed into the air before it was followed up by a rattle of automatic fire. In response, the Russian infantry replied in kind as clouds of smoke appeared all across the edges of the camp. Prince Hans felt confident after seeing the capability of his army before stealing a glance at the cannon crews placing down the guns and preparing them for firing.

Artyom was leaned forward in his saddle as he followed Honeymaren back to the camp. His men had managed to keep up after all of this time, which was good as they wouldn't have to spend time trying to wait and rally the stragglers when the fighting started. As this great horde of cavalry and mounted infantry pressed onward, the Northuldran stopped at the edge of the tree line and the thundering gallops had been overcome by the sounds of fighting in the distance.

He and his retinue slowed the paces of their beasts and grabbed a closer look at the fighting. While their horses took a moment of respite, they could see the base camp in the distance and under attack. A massive army was present and it oppressively dominated the battlefield with its size while the infantry regiments were fighting from the relative safety of the camp. The cries of muskets discharging gunpowder and automatic bursts from the Kalashnikovs had made him brandish his binoculars.

The magnification allowed him to catch a quick glimpse of the troops on their left. Several battle lines remained with the majority of the enemy army while musketeers were at the front… alongside the familiar appearances of the Baron's men. They had finally shown themselves after all of this time.

Pavel asked a question about his observations. "What do you see?"

"The Caspian bandits and Hans' musketeers are at the front. They're firing on the camp," He looked further and saw a hill where a small group of men resided behind a battery of cannons, overlooking regiments of cavalry and polearm infantry. "Spears in the front while enemy cavalry seems to be in reserve."

"How do you want this to go out? We can't just charge at them and hope for the best."

Prince Dolokhov grabbed their attention from the right. "The Cossacks and uhlans are lancers so they should be at the front. Hussars and dragoons should follow in from behind. Given that these men from another world are effectively mounted infantry, they should come in from the flanks. If they find a suitable spot, they can dismount and cover us in the melee."

"Well, shit, you're quick with that one?" The communist officer was taken by complete surprise, "Where'd you come up with that?"

"Just a simple observation from what I have seen."

Honeymaren looked at them with a cold stare. "Enough talk, your friends are in danger."

"That you are right," Artyom replied as he put his binoculars away and adjusted the Kalashnikov slung over him so that it wouldn't get in the way of his sword. Now he needed to delegate command, "Pavel, take half of the platoon leaders and their men to the left flank. Uhlman, you get the others and take the right. Vaska takes the center regiments. Are we clear?"

The three companions of the Polis Ranger answered in unison. "Yes."

"Anything else?"

"Let me help you with the cavalry commands," The nobleman suggested as his horse grew unsettled, "I'm familiar with them enough to make sure the lines don't fall apart."

Artyom looked to his friends and gave a slightly afraid smile. "Alright, to your positions."

A few minutes passed as Uhlman and Pavel rode to the flanks of the force while calling upon their elements to join them. Vaska turned around and ordered the lancers to the front with their weapons raised high. As the men shifted around their positions, the sounds of men fighting and screaming in agony had earned his attention. Every second it took to prepare for the charge, the more they watched their fellows suffer but the young man intended to pay that back in blood. Especially, as he saw Prince Hans and his retinue look down upon them.

The Northuldran girl turned around and stole a glimpse from him. "May the spirits wish you good fortune for helping Arendelle and Northuldra."

Soon the mood changed as Prince Dolokhov drew his sword and shouted loud enough to those around him. "Draw and march!"

His ears heard the sounds of cold steel leaving their scabbards behind while the front began to step forward. As he rode beside the Russian imperial, Artyom too drew his sword while the entire army moved passed their Northuldran guide. Hooves slowly thumped against the frozen ground while he kept his sabre close to his chest.

"Canter-march!"

The pace quickened as the riders began to cover more ground with their increased speed. A long line of cavalry swept through the field while several horns were blaring from the back. Their users tried maintaining order throughout the ranks while the assailants and the camp came closer. It had felt like they made the ground feel the terror of their arrival with their steeds but then reality came into place when bullets whistled past them. Some bullets even landed their mark on riders behind him.

He realized the danger he was in before lowering his armored visor above his eyes. Then Vaska spoke again with another order while they passed the camp. "Charge!"

Horns bellowed out quick beats before the lancers galloped hard past Artyom and brought low their lances. Meanwhile, the nobleman reached forward with his sword as the men yelled out the battle cry once more. He mimicked the way his blade was directed as he encouraged Alastor to maintain his place at the front.

Every man beside him had yelled to the top of their lungs as they made their way towards the smoke and fire. The enemy soldiers in front of them had tried to bring their firepower to bear but the swiftness of the cavalry had left an impression on the weak-willed souls. Their ranks began to crumble and flee before the chargers faced them head-on.

A few seconds passed and they were already on top of them. The infantry that was caught in the initial blow was immediately impaled by the lances before their users threw the broken weapons away and drew their swords. Others were smashed by the full frontal weight of the horses and tossed aside or trampled underneath rows upon rows of cavalry. Their screams and terrors beckoned for salvation when none could be found.

Artyom raised his sword high as a bandit tried to bring his assault rifle to fire but the hand was much swifter. His victim voiced a blood-curdling cry as a red mark was etched across his chest before pressing onward. He looked ahead to see the cavalry regiments caught in hand-to-hand and the lines of a battle breaking apart. Gunfire echoed from both his flanks as the Polis Ranger looked to the sides to see the post-apocalypse soldiers open fire. The plan had gone well as could be expected.

Someone grabbed his attention as a hand pulled him down from his horse and his feet off the saddle. He lost the grip on his reins while his back slammed against the dirt before an enemy musketeer brandished a knife over his chest. His left hand reached out and held onto the man's wrist while the foe leveraged himself with his own body. It was a struggle the young man was losing as his sword arm was stuck underneath the enemy.

Time was of the essence and there was always a weapon on him he could use for this occasion. His hands began to let go of the sword before reaching for his sheathed knife on his chest, catching the assailant off-guard. Before he was given a chance to back away, Artyom punched forwards and let the knife's brass knuckles slam his jaw shut. The musketeer was stunned by the attack that as he leaned back, the Polis Ranger did not hesitate to pull himself up and swiftly meet his throat with the blade.

He pulled himself off ground and sheathed the knife before retrieving his blade from the ground. The radio beeped with Uhlman's voice. "Get your guys together they're sending their cavalry your way."

"Damn it!" Swore Artyom as he ran towards Alastor and pulled himself off the staddle. They had to keep the momentum going while they still had the adrenaline to fight. As he regained his senses on the battlefield, he looked towards the enemy army to see their cavalry slowly approach in an organized manner. "Cavalry, reform the line! Reform the line!"

The young man rode past the immediate fighting as he seemingly gathered his cavalry back from the fighting while the surviving musketeers and bandits fled towards the relative safety of the main army under fire. Vaska arrived at his side and somehow managed to obtain an unbroken lance from the chaos of earlier.

"We might not be so fortunate," He felt while observing the enemy cavalry begin to gallop while receiving casualties from the flank. There were just twice the amount of men they were up against and the odds didn't seem to be in their favor. "We'll die this time."

Prince Dolokhov chuckled. "It's an occupational hazard for men like us. Fate is often a fickle affair on the battlefield."

"I suppose so."

Artyom raised his sword high and above so that others could see him as he began to move his horse.

"Not one step back, comrades!"

A few seconds passed before he rode Alastor hard and pointed his blade towards the enemy. It was another round of battle cries as the cavalry moved past their first engagement and into another. Two cavalry forces confronted each other on the open ground - each unwilling to back down as the distance closed. The adrenaline flowed through their veins as they roared with unrelenting fury.

The two sides clashed.

Vaska was seen using his lance as a staff, knocking a cuirassier off his saddle before he was lost in the chaos of the charge. The horses ran past each other while the riders wildly slashed and stabbed, trying to navigate this mass of bodies in a single location. At this point, any semblance of the military organization had fallen apart as they devolved into mere duels between individuals. Artyom was amazed that he even survived the experience without a scratch as rode past the last of the enemy ranks.

He turned around to confront those he rode past, encountering a cuirassier who turned around to confront him. They rode closer with great anticipation before the two found themselves exchanging blows. Their sabres clashed while the mounts remained at a distance but the Polis Ranger's horse moved closer while his nameless foe stumbled back.

His sword swung from the right as the enemy brought his blade close to intercept. The steel met but the cuirassier parried the swing before following it up with a riposte. Yet, Artyom drew his hand back as his sword prevented him from earning a stab. Then he was surprised when Alastor stepped forward, bringing him closer while the foe was taken by surprise and lost control of his sword. The mistake was swiftly punished as he replied with his very own stab, reaching past the cover of the cuirass and underneath the man's arm.

It was a small victory but one he won nonetheless.

A great thunder blasted out from behind before cannonballs whistled past him and crashed into the chaos of friend and foe alike. Alastor was quickly startled and rose on his hind legs as the Russian's body was tossed to the ground before fleeing. As he sat up, the Spartan looked over to the fighting and see the casualties between the two cavalry forces lay in the wake of the destruction. Men moaned or begged for mercy as the fighting between the riders continued. Then everything changed when the soldier's ears stopped ringing, hearing the disciplined marching of boots and the sticks pounding away at the drums.

Artyom pulled himself off the ground with his sword in hand while facing the rest of Prince Hans' army. Thousands of men kept into formation as they continue to step toward him and his people. They were all being deployed against him and there was no chance he would survive an encounter with them; especially, with their cannons deployed against them.

He sheathed his sword and grabbed his assault rifle hanging on his person which remained undamaged throughout most of the fighting. Every bullet was going to be used and each magazine will be emptied. Soon he aimed down the sights of his Kalashnikov and lined up the markers etched into his scope before falling onto a single knee.

When he switched the safety into single-fire, the Polis Ranger rested his elbow against his leg and pulled the trigger. One by one, his weapon fired, finding a target amidst the sea of men that slowly gained ground. This was for Elsa - with a kill meant for the freedom of Arendelle and the salvation of his people. Nothing could be held back as brass shell casings were ejected from the chamber and landed on his boots.

His resistance did nothing as the enemy suffered casualties along the way. Perhaps, this might have been the end for him. Then again, Artyom lived for and waited for this moment when his time came.

Everything changed when the radio sparkled to life with the Spartan Commander's voice. "All units, we have arrived. Make way for the armor."

A rhythm of cannon fire echoed across the plains as the heir of the Russian Empire stopped shooting. Shells whistled over his head for a brief moment before slamming into the ranks of the enemy infantry marching towards them. Artyom turned his head to see where the shots originated from, only to see an armada of armored fighting vehicles backed by fleets of transports and gun trucks, roll onto the battlefield at a speed he had never seen before. Then came the sudden arrival of the helicopters as they broke formation and speedily descended upon the exposed infantry.

Chainguns spun as several volleys of rockets screamed overhead and smashed into the enemy battle lines, leaving gaps from where they had fallen. Then the peppering of machine guns and the grinding of chainguns had fired. There was little respite was given to the enemy troops as they tried to fill in the gaps, only for another blow to the army and create a few more holes in the lines. Soldiers howled in panic as their organized advance had begun to recede back to the hill where their prince stood from.

The armored fighting vehicles swept around the cavalry engagement and drove in front of the main enemy army as their guns continued to fire. He watched as they formed into several battle lines themselves before the transports and the infantry fighting vehicles began to dismount platoons of infantry while the tanks blasted away at the enemy. Then he rose to his feet and ran across the frozen ground to accompany them as they formed a firing line and advanced.

Artyom surprised many as he passed the soldiers before he joined a line of infantry backing the tanks forward. Cannons and machine guns were unleashed as he raised his rifle and fired while approaching the enemy. Those beside him had mimicked his actions as their weapons flew across the way to kill or wound the first ranks of the enemy. His scope showed the enemy carrying their polearms or greatswords, only to be struck by five-point-four-fives and drop their weapon as a result. They were terrified but there was nothing they could do against the onslaught and the weaponry from another world.

Everything changed when they broke ranks and fled from the battlefield. This battle was over and all that mattered was if they would go after them. Colonel Mel'nikov let out an order that was cold and efficient, "Search and destroy, comrades. Do not relent and let them regroup."

"Ura!" Cried the men as the professional soldiers of the Moscow Metro, OSKOM, and Vladivostok broke up into small units and chased the surviving enemies.

It was a well-earned victory but something felt off. He didn't know why as he ran towards the retreating infantry. Then he saw a change atop of the hill as the cannons were abandoned by their crews while the bandits of the Caspian sea had taken their position. Prince Hans was seen behind them for a brief moment before more of their ilk arrived carrying strange green canisters. They attached hoses to them as the royal of the Southern Isles departed to the other side of the hill while the Polis Ranger saw something that caught his eye - a skull atop crossed bones.

The blood in Artyom's veins had boiled as a result of what he had witnessed. He wanted to kill that man for the dangerous weapons he had brought here but the concern of his comrades took priority. His hand reached for the radio with great haste as time passed for the raiders to set up four large canisters. "Colonel, this is Artyom! The enemy has poison gas, I say again, the enemy has poison gas! Get everyone to wear their gas masks and get the people of the base camp out of here!"

His distress managed to leave an effect on the soldiers beside him as they all stopped in their chase and began to brandish their gas masks. He did the same as he removed his helmet for the straps to slip on.

A commotion came into the camp; however, Elsa knew not why. She would have been able to understand had her binds been broken. It was tightly fitted and nearly impossible to use her magic here. Someone had to release her from them if she had a chance of surviving her ex-lover. Then something strange happened, Northuldra called to her. Of all the times the siren had to grab her attention, this was not it.

The air howled outside as the flaps of the tent flew open. A wind began to make its way inside before she heard a cooing noise. That was when she realized that help had indeed arrived. "Gale?"

It cooed again before the air carried a small little lizard into the tent. The creature happily landed on top of her knee with its tongue sticking out in a cute way.

"Thank you for coming. Get me out of this rope and we'll see what we can do."

The lizard scurried over to her back as she saw a glimpse of pinkish flames emanate over her shoulder. Her hands were stung by the burns before the wrists were wrung free. Soon her magic managed to put out the intense heat before the small lizard jumped around the tent still on fire. The flames caught on as she pulled herself off the ground while still feeling the pain from earlier.

Elsa walked out of the burning tent with the spirits of wind and fire accompanying her. It should have been relatively easier to escape now that the main army was nowhere near to oppose her. Then everything changed when the ground shook as men shouted throughout the camp. She quietly snuck around the tents with the hopes of leaving the perimeter while the flames continued to spread.

A loud thunderous slam terrified the camp. Soldiers and mercenaries alike ran past her with horrified expressions before she looked around, only to see two stone giants step forward and slam their feet into the mass of tents. The destruction they wrought had left such a deadly impression that her captors ignored the fact that the queen was now free to leave their grasp. Now she just had to leave while the stone giants took everyone's attention off her.

The enemies had begun to make it into the woods where they were at the mercy of the spirits. Elsa would have to deal with them later while she too rushed out of the camp with the fire spirit lighting the tents on fire along the way, only for Gale to spread it even further through the wind and leaves making contact with the flames.

When she got into the woods, the fifth spirit looked back upon the camp to see stone giants tear it asunder while the fire was let out of control. Suddenly, a massive explosion erupted as the queen realized the fire must have made contact with the gunpowder. It was such a cathartic moment ever since she was captured but with the destruction of the camp, Prince Hans and his monsters would not return to a place of safety in Northuldra.

Cries of a horse echoed from deep within the forest before she looked over her shoulder to see the Nokk walk up to her. Elsa eagerly ran up to the spirit and hugged it. "It's good to see you again. Let's go find Anna and the others before they see us."

It nodded its head in response. She quickly mounted the spirit as the lizard jumped high enough to land on her shoulder while Gale stayed close. Their departure was not noticed as the queen remembered what she said yesterday before looking at the fire spirit.

"I did say that I will give you a name. How does Bruni sound?"

The creature seemed to approve of the name by licking her on the cheek. She giggled at how the fire spirit tickled her as she reached for the frozen reins.