Explosive shells fell across the forest, sending up geysers of dirt and debris as Franks crashed through the trees and right into a group of retreating rebels. He fired both of his pistols, blasting heavy lead balls through two of the colonials, dropped the smoking weapons and pulled two more pistols from his belt.

“It’s the Hessians’ monster!” one of them shouted. “Protect the general!”

Franks shot that one through the heart. Then he killed another rifleman, threw his spent pistols down, and drew his sword. Franks stepped through the gun smoke and charged the remaining rebels. They met him with steel and lead. They fought hard, and Franks respected that, but he fought harder. So they died.

He kept moving as they continued shooting at him, slicing and cleaving his way through their ranks. He was struck by ball and shot, but it wasn’t enough to slow his relentless advance. A few ran, but most stood and fought. Franks dispatched those one by one. As brave as they were, no mortal could match Franks. The rebels broke before him and ran for their lives.

A mortar shell landed between him his prey, so Franks had to wait a moment for the smoke to settle. When it did, waiting before him was a tall man on a white horse. The Virginian pointed his sword at Franks’ breast and shouted a command to try and rally his men, except the soldiers who’d faced Franks once didn’t dare come back. They ran, but their officer didn’t. The Virginian could have escaped. Even as fast as Franks was, he’d been shot enough times today that he would not be able to chase down a horse, but instead the officer urged his horse forward, engaging Franks himself so that his men could retreat.

Franks knew this man. This was the new general they spoke of. This was the military leader of the entire rebellion. Even the battle-hardened Hessians acknowledged the skills displayed thus far by the one called Washington made him a worthy adversary. Franks would kill this man and be back in camp in time for supper.

The great white horse surged forward. Its eyes were wide and it was blowing snot from its nostrils. Animals knew to fear him, but the general forced it on anyway.

Franks punched the horse in the face and knocked it unconscious.

Washington was thrown hard into the snow, but he kept hold of his sword, and immediately struggled to his feet. To his credit, he lunged and tried to run Franks through, but Franks had spent the prior decades fighting the most physically capable, experienced combatants in the mortal world and dispatching every Hell-spawned beast he could find, so this wasn’t even a challenge. Franks effortlessly struck the blade aside. Washington slashed at him. Franks simply stepped inside the blow and slammed his shoulder into the man’s chest. He hit the frozen ground hard.