Another wave of enemies draws near. The danger of the place he now called home once again in peril. Or maybe it had been his prison. It had been too long for Bredry too remember why he was here, what exactly he had been fighting for. All he knew was that he had too fight. And that no one was ever there to help him. The town he protects not one of Earth, a place he used to call the New world, now the Old one. The people inhabiting it, cowards. Yet, kind. They had cared for him every time a battle had been won. Of course, they had too. Or else their peaceful town would be destroyed. Sometimes, he would have a full week to heal from the onslaught of thousands upon thousands of mindless warriors. Most of the time though, he only had a couple days. But never did he complain, he was too damn prideful to do so.
His body had naturally grown, further increasing the size he could manipulate his body too. An ability he no longer had use for, as the last time he had tried morphing into Giant Lion, hundreds of innocents had been killed. No, he had to fight the monsters with his own skills, his own strength. There power almost on par with his own, he had opted to shift the Blade of Jah into a double sided Axe. A weapon that could take brutes out faster, more efficiently, more aggressively. He had decided to remove his shield from the equation, each wound inflicted on him hindering him only by the battle's end. Some would smirk at the term. 'Battle', hmph. Each wave was it's own small army, each wave could wage it's own war. So what exactly was he fighting, a war? No, perhaps he was just trying to survive. That's not it either. Why didn't the warrior just leave. These pathetic beings would have to learn how to fight for themselves, Bredry knew this, so why didn't he stop fighting.
Perhaps it had been Jah's will. Perhaps he had disappointed the God for some reason, or perhaps this was a trial for the great warrior, Bredry Licrae. If so, the Soul Rebel had only one question, When will it end Jah? Bredry thought as the brutes came closer and closer. Swinging around his battle-axe in preparation, he repeated the question out loud, "When will it end?" And as the Hoard came ever nearer, the last thing they would hear, was what they guessed to be the battle cry of their only enemy, "WHEN... WILL... IT... ENNNDDD?"