The fighting went on, and the air got heavy in Roman’s chest. His men’s chants became louder, booming like a choir. They roared and fought, yelled as they killed, yelled as they died. And underneath black skies, they saw their enemies’ backs turned towards them as they ran, horns announcing their retreat.

“We routed them…” - Roman whispered to himself.

“In the name of the czar!” - his men yelled, reveling in their victory.

Roman leaned down on his horse, dropping his sword in the mud. His banner slowly slipped from his calloused palm and fell, covering a fallen soldier’s face. Muddy tears rolled down the czar’s cheeks but not for his fallen men. He was finally free. After a whole life spent scheming and warring, he was free. He yelled until veins crawled on his neck like snakes, until he had no strength left until his vision dimmed.

He was finally free.

“Should we give chase, sire?” - One of his generals approached Roman, his eye and lip swollen.

Roman wiped the spit and blood drooling from his mouth as his army still chanted his name.

“We’ll besiege their camp on the shore.”

“We’re not prepared for a siege, sire. It’ll take us time to gather men from the villages and arm them, to establish proper supply lines, to…”

“We’re not ready, but they aren’t either. They won’t try to outlast us after what happened today. By this time tomorrow, everyone will know how the sky fell on them, and their god deserted them. Each time the sky rumbles, every soldier behind their barricades will tremble as if it was a battering ram. We need to last a couple of storms and let lightning be our siege weapon. Each flash in the sky will be a trebuchet firing against them. They’ll pay us off, they’ll give us hostages, and they’ll sign the most disgraceful treaty in the history of their empire.”

Men wages wars in their gods’ name, and now he received the same glory they did. A mere mortal armed with no powers besides his ambition had ascended to godhood.

“In the name of the czar.” - the soldiers still yelled.