Benedict felt drained after his conversation with Angelica. Even more so than before.

What I need is some sleep. Yes. Sleep would do him well.

As he walked to his chambers, he passed the lounge room. There, he heard the sounds of his family. Francisco and Gallo to be specific. They were drinking. Of course. What else would they do? His father was roaring with laughter at something some random bureaucrat said.

Benedict felt his lip curl in a snarl.

He stormed away from the lounge room, leaving behind the sounds of drunken laughter. The sun was setting over la'Manse. Dinner was probably going to be served soon. An hour or less.

Benedict wasn't hungry.

He got to his chambers and shut the door quietly. He let out a breath of frustration and anger before going flinging the balcony doors and taking a deep breath of fresh air. He stood there for a long time before he heard knocking on his door.

He walked back and asked, "Who is it?"

"Your brother, you goat!"

"What do you want, Brother?"

"How about for you to drag your bum down to the hall to eat dinner, eh? What in the Angel King's name are you doing here?"

"I'm not so hungry as of now. I'll just have the servants bring me some food later."

"I don't give a horses' rear end if you're hungry or not. You rule this castle so you should show up to its dinner."

Benedict opened the door and stared at his brother. "I'll be fine, Francisco. I just want some―"

"Time alone?" Francisco finished for him, his face twisted in a mocking expression. "Of course you do. You're like a tortoise that retreats into its shell whenever hears and odd sound, even if it was the cause of those sounds!"

"Well maybe one day his cautiousness will save him, while the tortoise who acts recklessly is eaten by the coyote!" Benedict retorted defensively.

"Hah! The way of the coward?"

"You know what, why don't you go back to the dining hall and leave me here alone? I think that it's a marvelous idea!" He tried to shove his brother away, but Francisco grabbed his arms and painfully twisted them. Benedict cried out in pain as Francisco continued to apply more and more pressure to where a little twist and his arms would break.

Francisco's voice took a menacing tone as he said, "Don't touch me." He released Benedict violently, shoving him back into the wall. "I've changed my mind; stay up here, little tortoise. You have no place down there with the serpents." And he stalked away.

Benedict slammed the door and walked back to the balcony. A storm was coming. He could smell it in the air. He stared out at the Wilderness where a raging storm was heading towards la'Manse. Benedict smiled. Storms were the best time to sleep. If slept during a storm it was possible that they could receive dreams that were blessed by the angels.

Quickly, Benedict prepared himself for bed. When he was ready, he jumped into bed and fell asleep almost immediately.

* * *

Benedict was on a horse. He was clad in armor and held a warlance in his right hand and a shield on his left arm.

What the―

Across the grass field were heavily armored horsemen and infantry. The banners that they held were foreign and not of the Caraíbes Isles.

They were Evrúopean.

Someone on Benedict's side of the battlefield screamed in Carabaí, "We give the pale-skins no ground! We strike first and give their calvary no room to maneuver! We fight for Grenaserrat!"

"FOR GRENASERRAT!"

And they charged.

Benedict spurred his horse forward at a gallop. The sounds of hundreds of hooves thundreding on the plain filled Benedict's ears.

"Crossbows!" someone screamed.

Panicking, Benedict raised his shield. Just in time. The thud of bolts digging into the shield mixed with the sound of galloping cavalry. Men screamed on died. Horses fell with arrows sticking out of their chest.

"FOR GRENASERRAT!"

More crossbow bolts.

More death.

"FOR GRENASERRAT!"

Just before Benedict's steed crashed into the heavily armoured infantry, time froze. He whisked away to high in the sky, gazing at the battlefield as time stood still.

It was obvious that the Grenesarri were going to be defeated. As the cavalry charge was absorbed by the heavy infantry, the infamous Evrúopean knights were making their way around the flanks. The Grenesarri infantry stood no chance against the Evrúopeans. It was certain death.

"The Battle of the Wandering Pastures was a great Grenasarri defeat. The flower of Grenesarri nobility was crushed on the battlefield. The Evrúopeans would go one to conquer the rest of the island with only one more major battle at Grenaserrat City," said a voice behind him. It was a soft, melodious, and yet rough voice that was of a male. When Benedict turned around, he found himself face to face with―

―an angel.

The angel was clad in white armor. He held a majestic halberd in his hands that glowed a heavenly light.

Well, his entire body glowed a heavenly light.

The angel wore barbute helmet and the openings glowed a fierce gold light. He towered over Benedict by a good head or two.

But the most majestic part about him were his wings. They were huge, white glamorous things that were longer than Benedict was tall.

This was Mikkael, The Warrior Angel of Diligence, Unity, and War.

"My God," Benedict said breathily. He wanted to fall on his knees but it was difficult to do so when he was floating in the air. He heard the angel chuckle and felt himself be whisked away onto a hill overlooking the battle. As soon as his feet touched the grass, Benedict collapsed. "O Holy Warrior... I... I don't know what to say."

The angel dismissed his halberd, waving a hand and the majestic weapon disappeared in a flurry of golden light. The Warrior Angel slowly removed his barbute to reveal a tan face with curly golden hair. His eyes were a stark amber that seemed to analyze everything about Benedict in a fraction of a second. "You need not say anything, young prince."

Benedict felt tears form in his eyes. "This must be some sort of wonderful, wonderful dream."

The angel smiled. "It is."

"I... I am so very blessed."

"You are."

"O Warrior, may I dare ask why you showed me this vision?"

The angel's eyes grew cold. "With the conquest of Grenaserrat, the Evrúopeans now have a foothold in the Caraíbes Isles. With them, they bring foreign gods. These gods of theirs drive them to commit atrocities that have not been seen in the Caraíbes since Before the Banishment."

Benedict felt his eyes go wide and his heart go cold. The Banishment. An event that sentenced the Demon Princes and their great armies to Void, stripping the Devil of his ability to ever assault the world again. The Banishment ended Demonic Wars and restored peace to Arkenheim.

"Sersalvon is the greatest power in the Caraíbes Isles aside from Barbaruda. If the other Carabaí countries see Sersalvon united against the Evrúopean threat, then you will stand a chance. But divided, you shall fall."

"W-what do I have to do with this, O Warrior?"

Mikkael smiled warmly. "You know what you must do, Prince Benedict. Your father and brother neglect their responsibilities. You know that the Kingdom of Sersalvon, once a beacon of light and learning, once a fortress of Angelicism, has been reduced to rubble.

"You, my Pious Prince, must restore this kingdom to its former glory... A storm is coming, Benedict. It will shake and tremble Arkenheim to its roots. This world is not strong enough to weather the storm as it is. I need you to unite Sersalvon and be the leader that this world needs."

"B-but they don't respect me, O Warrior. They forget I am even there half the time. They pass their gaze over me as they would the runt of the litter."

Mikkael suddenly grabbed his shoulders. Benedict felt the holy light sear into him. "Then we shall make them, Benedict. We shall make them respect you, for such a thing is earned, not given freely. I speak of war, Pious Prince. I speak of war."

"W-what about my uncle, Prince Jacquez?"

Mikkael snarled, the expression twisting his angelic features. "That man is more unholy than your father and brother combined. Enough talk, now go! The sun shall be rising when you wake up. You have much work to do, Pious Prince. Do not worry, you shall not be alone. We shall meet again."

The Warrior Angel released him and Benedict watched the vision dissolve.

* * *

Benedict woke up in his bed in la'Manse delle Simia. The sun was rising outside and the sunlight filtered in through the windows. Benedict sat up in his bed and took a deep breath. He got up, and walked out to the balcony as he had so many times before.

Outside, the Wilderness of Feroxiel was buzzing with activity and excitement. Birds already flew over the canopies and the sounds of all different kinds of wild animals could be faintly heard from where he was. Past the Wilderness, the entire island of Luxuano stood fractured and broken. Beyond Luxuano, the hundreds of Sersalvonian islands stood alone, warring with each other or keeping to themselves. Either way, they neglected the authority of the crown. They neglected the authority of the Serpent Throne.

He had an angelic mandate now, given to him by the Angel of Diligence, Unity and War.

Benedict smiled. There was no doubt about it now:

He would unite this kingdom.