As he said this, he entrusted himself with all his heart to his lady Dulcinea, imploring her to help and sustain him at such a critical moment, and then, with his shield held high and his spear braced in its socket, and Rocinante at a full gallop, he charged directly at the first windmill he came to, just as a sudden swift gust of wind sent its sail swinging hard around, smashing the spear to bits and sweeping up the knight and his horse, tumbling them all battered and bruised to the ground. Sancho Panza came rushing to his aid, as fast as his donkey could run, but when he got to his master, found him unable to move, such a blow had he been given by the falling horse.

"God help me!" said Sancho. "Didn't I tell your grace to be careful what you did, that these were just windmills, and anyone who could ignore that had to have windmills in his head?"

"Silence, Sancho, my friend, " answered Don Quixote. "Even more than other things, war is subject to perpetual change. What's more, I think the truth is that the same Frestón the magician, who stole away my room and my books, transformed these giants into windmills, in order to deprive me of the glory of vanquishing them, so bitter is his hatred of me. But in the end, his evil tricks will have little power against my good sword."

"God's will he done, " answered Sancho Panza.

"Yes, " said Don Quixote , rising to his feet and holding his sword far above his head. "God's will be done!" A beam of light shot from Don Quixote 's lance and pierced the heavens, the distant sound of thunder drew closer until it deafened the duo and drowned out all other sound. A bolt of lightning hit the nearest windmill, and at once the sounds of mechanical gears was head as the windmill begin to open and change shape into the form of a giant man, with burning red eyes, holding a pair of tilted scimitars where once there was nothing but wooden paddles.

"What manner of sorcery is this?!" Roared the giant in anger.

"It is I, Don Quixote , come to vanquish you evil giant on behalf of the powers of Heaven! Frestón's powers cannot help you now!"

"Don Quixote , I should have known. I do not require aid from my master to deal with the likes of you!" Retorted the giant, who punctuated his sentence with a blast from the laser cannon hidden in his mouth.

Don Quixote dodged the blast by leeping strait into the air, "Rocinante! To ME!" He called.

Don Quixote 's horse leaped into the air after his master, accompanied by a whirling electronic buzz. The horse split open and revealing circuitry, grips for Don Quixote to hold, and levers for his feet to be places. Don Quixote grasped the controls and placed his feet on the levers as the horse closed around his body, the horse's head opening to reveal a brilliantly silver knights helmet that protected Don Quixote 's head. A shaft of metal extended to a point and a grip became visible that Don Quixote grasped with his mechanical hand. As he grasped the weapon a bit just before the grip unfurled into a cone shape.

"With my holy lance, I will strike your heart, giant!" Don Quixote charged, and the Giant parried. But Don Quixote continued his desperate assault of thrusts against the giant, each one parried at lightning speed by the giant's scimitars. Don Quixote gave one more mighty thrust only for the giant to parry his blow hard, knocking him to the ground.

The giant chortled smugly, "You where no match for me!"

Don Quixote smirked, "No should you really have been looking at me, or the man with the machine gun?"

"What?!" The Giant exclaimed, looking back towards Sancho who removed a large blanket covering a bulge on his Donkey's back. Under the blanket was a large machine gun, the words "Gods Will Be Done." Engraved on the side.

"Xote!" Sancho exclamed, "GOD's will be done!" At once the machine gun roared to life, sending a hailstorm of bullets that wounded the giant. As he exclaimed and pain, dropping his left scimitar and reached for his wound , Don Quixote rose and stabbed the giant through his mechanical heart.

The giant stumbled and fell to his knees as his eyes grew dim and finally collapsed.

"That was some good work, your grace." Said Sancho.

"Good work?" Don Quixote answered inquisitively, as more lightning rained down on the other windmills, beginning their transformation into giants. "No, that was just…practice.