The sun glinted off the Titanium Sword as it swung aimlessly in an arc, sending a fractured beam of light through the red haze. The exile was ready to venture out and claim his place with the Terrarian Legion again. To get out of this hellish land of blood and gore, to redeem his place in the land, to do good once again.

He was an honorable man; one can tell that much by seeing his lack of fury at his unjust exile, and his perseverance in making things right once again. He was a great warrior; his armor and sword had never broken, not even in the most violent battle. He was an exile; by chance only, by unjust means, by the deceit and guile of an evil one. But not for much longer.

He trudged out of the vine-covered cave, the blood from the ground squishing and splashing around his heavy, booted feet. His boots were stained red at the end of every day; that was one of the many drawbacks of his secluded, hidden Crimson home. But it was hidden, away from the evil eyes of the one who sought to kill him.

The army camp was far to the east of here, past the leafy Jungle, past the deceitful Hallow, in a secluded tundra. He would travel there if it killed him - which it might.

He started his journey. The Jungle posed very little problem, as he vaulted over the Arapaima-ridden pools. The Hallow nearly killed him, Unicorns attempting to stab through his armor with their sharp horns. But in the end, he reached the base and strode into the main tent.

"I come back from exile, Nimbian, and reclaim the post which you stole from me with deceit and cunning!"

"Never," hissed the hunched figure at the back of the tent, cloaked back all that was visible.

"Then we shall settle this through single combat, the unviolable trial of the ages!" the exile replied stalwartly.

The battle occured on a long, snow-covered strip of grass outside the army camp. A lone referee was there. He raised his gun and yelled, "This is single combat to the death. The winner is the winner of the debate you seek to settle, the leadership of the Terrarian Army! No alliances with others! No backing out! Ready... set... START!"

The exile charged at Nimbian, his sword raised in a crushing blow. Only too quickly, a shield of purple-red light appeared around the mage, shielding him from the worst of the blow. Bright red fissure lines appeared where the sword struck, and both combatants reeled back. This went on and on, the purple shield growing weaker.

Finally, it shattered on impact, and the sword sliced through part of the mage's left hand. He screamed in agony, a high-pitched sound that only dying wildcats are supposed to make. However, green flames blasted out all the same, smashing into the exile and carrying him backwards.

The two approached, both wounded badly, and both attacked.

The sword struck first.

The mage was cleaved from head to toe, the evil fire he had launched dissipating with its caster's death.

The terrified referee raised his gun and shot. "The winner is... the Titanium Knight! Let he who stands take the leadership of the Terrarian Army!"