Author's note: Well, you all don't seem to have opinions on these pre-chapter announcements, so I'm doing them regularly now.

I'd like to tell you all about the formatting of this story: it will have three parts. Each part will have ten chapters, for a grand total of thirty chapters, one prologue, and one epilogue. Additionally, scene-jumps will have two indents, with breaks in paragraphs having one. Hopefully this will help all of you understand what's going on better and be less confused.

We've surpassed 100 reads now, and I am astounded by our quick growth. Thank you all for your support. I hope you enjoy the climax of Part One: Vengeance. Merry Christmas, godspeed, and good night.

"Aegus? How would he know about the Nether invasion?" The Kaltaris cocked his head.

"I had close ties to Tygren," Pridiral said quietly. "Tygren had close ties to Ingressus. Ingressus had close ties to Aegus. One day, Aegus visited Ingressus, who left a tiny bit of proof of this invasion on his desk." Pridiral rubbed his hands together, worrying about further committing treason. "When Aegus left, the evidence was gone. Ingressus alerted my king, who now is attacking all of Aegus' regular areas of travel."

"And who really took the evidence?"

"Ingressus and Tygren hid it. To get a war going with the masters would be a suitable way to engineer their demise, I imagine. It's funny..." Pridiral chuckled, despite the situation. "They want the ardoni master, but really they want me."

"And why do you tell us all this? Surely it can't be for Tygren alone."

Pridiral sighed. "Their invasion of the Overworld is wrong. I was supposed to kill innocents and destroy this world. I can't do that."

"And are you the only deserter?" The Kaltaris asked.

"I cannot say for sure. All I know is that while I sit here in this dungeon, my people commit acts of evil for someone they really have nothing against."

Thalleous heard the wither screech just as it shot its first projectile. The exploding skull rang through the night, instantly killing those around it. His fellow ardoni fell to its blast. A second skull shot out from one of its three vicious heads, this one withering away his comrades.

"Destroy it!" a soldier yelled. "Kill it now!"

The Wither turned to face the soldier and blasted his ear off of his skull. The trooper yelled in pain.

Thalleous dodged The Wither's shot and deflected a rogue arrow. His men were all yelling, begging for some advantage. Some lost their lives, but others lost limbs, legs, or faces. Cries of agony escaped Thalleous' troops. He knew this battle would end the wrong way if the wither continued its killing spree, so Thalleous leapt into action. He ran at the wither and slashed off its left head, then leapt on top of it and stabbed its right. The Wither hissed in agony, now relentlessly throwing skulls all over the field. Gone was its ruthless, cold precision. Now there was only rage left in its heart.

The Kaltaris guard shook his head. "And all this for what? Why do your people want this land?"

Pridiral locked eyes with the guard. "Because the hatred of the Overworld by the Nether is as old as the hatred of the Nether by the Overworld. Our people have fought for as long as time had a name. Why would this age be any different?"

A rogue skull caught Thalleous on the shoulder, grazing his collar. He cried out on pain as a small portion of his collarbone singed. The wither's glowing eyes on the two neutralized heads faded just as Thalleous slit the throat of its largest head. The wither yelled out, an abominable screech mixing with Thalleous' cries of suffering and anguish. Time stopped, Thalleous' vision becoming a blur. Thalleous hacked and slashed randomly, trying to hit his foe with every bit of force he had left. He landed one final strike upon the titan's neck, and The Wither collapsed to the ground just as Thalleous' remaining six men began to realize their losses.

"We're losing ground here, sir." One of the troops slashed through a netheran.

"Fall back to Sarrettus' force," Thalleous heaved. "We'll take care of the rest of them with the help of the archers."

Sarrettus yelled with anger, the netherans striking against him again and again. A few stray piglins had made their way into the fight, and one of their trained brutes locked eyes with Sarrettus.

"Come here, you gold-hogging runt!" Sarrettus screamed, remembering the brutes of the piglins and their bloodthirsty nature.

"Ardoni!" He yelled, guttural tones reverberating ten yards away. "You challenge me?"

"Come here, you murderous pig!"

The piglin brute ran at him, glimmering golden axe shining in the last embers of the fire. He locked blades with Sarrettus, knocking the captain back several feet with the sheer weight of his strike. A clear head taller than the already-large ardoni, he readied a second strike. This time, he knocked the sword out of Sarrettus' hand. He prepared to smite his rival, but Sarrettus dodged the blow. The captain ran to the side of the piglin and punched it in the face, steadying himself.

"I'll grind your head to the wall!" the brute screamed. He ran at Sarrettus, who dodged the blow again. This time, the brute lost its balance.

That was all the advantage Sarrettus needed.

He grabbed the axe from the brute just as it tripped, taking advantage of its reflexively weak state. He kicked the brute to the ground, raised the blade, and let the blood splatter across the charred grass.