A New World | THE BIG FOUR: Book 2 ✔

27 : THE BATTLE

Burgess

In a far stretched grassland, Pitch stood tall with his army behind his back. The moon was shaped perfectly—Ah, The Man in Moon. What a great sight. He was staring at it the time they arrived, sending those pathetic glares of his.

"Hm." Pitch snarled.

"I suppose they readied themselves... your filthy musketeers."

Pitch's eyes sharpen. He was talking to the moon, despite it will never answer back his bitter judgement like a dagger in his tongue. He just wanted to challenge it.

It is Pitch's nature.

He can surely feel his power flowing in his veins, but something was off, it wasn't the usual thing he felt before. When he took the four teenagers as captives. When they were still his own puppets.

No.

It was something else. His power ceased low every time a memory box slips from his grasp. Every time something is stolen from him. It weakens.

But he knows, tonight will be the perfect time he'll unleash his true power. How powerful he really is. How intimidating he really is. What a King of Darkness he really was.

Pitch knows it's a fifty-fifty. Neck to neck. But he doesn't underestimates his doing. Now that he have Gothel—a witch, a magic-wielder. And an army with him.

He sure guarantee victory... but not now.

No yet.

He waited.

A grunting sound above their heads caught Pitch's attention. It was a group of reindeer, floating and hovering through the night sky pulling a sleigh behind their backs. It circled through and landed harshly on the ground, meters away from him.

Pitch watched.

The hanged Christmas lights onto the wooden sleigh gleamed in different colors until a silhouette—rather, a form of a large-sized man in his red cloak moved out from the structure.

Long white beard covered his chin. His eyes were painted in deep dark blue. Two swords kept at both sides.

"Pitch." North called in a thick Russian tone.

The King of Darkness plastered a sneeky devilish smile.

"Oh." He cooed. "Hello, Nicholas. Where are the others?"

Sarcasm filled his voice. Like he was trying to fully get the old man's attention for awhile before countering an attack. Pitch smartly knows they are playing a certain tactic to fool him.

Well, for his dislike, no one will.

He knows very well what goes into Nicholas's teeny tiny mind. Pitch had encountered them in the very beginning. He saw every bit of it—their powers, how each of them hold a weapon and how their eyes burnt with so much anger.

North did not answer. He kept his distance away and observed all of his stances and movements. He can read between the line, North knows Pitch was hiding something. He always had.

A memory box.

The very last of the memory box.

North quirked at the idea. He must have hide it somewhere—not in a place. But somewhere only Pitch knows, in his consciousness, or maybe the space between reality and himself as a King of Darkness.