Age of Heroes (Age of Heroes Chronicles)

Chapter 525: White hart i

Trees dots the forest, greenery all around. Skeletons and corpses fill the fields of the evergreens.

But still they marched.

The troops look at the corpses and gulped. 

These corpses, these skeletons are those that comes before them, that walk the same path they did and died because of the Darkly Things.

But the troops are not afraid. 

Fifty thousand men united by a single man is marching through the forest like a divine army, cutting through any obstacle without flinching.

Their armors, theirs shields, their blades and spears are drenched with the red dark blood of the Spawn of Darkness.

Like the story of Old, they are a band of honest men, of mortal descent, travelling the path of Darkness, praying for Light at the end of the journey.

Like a beacon of light that seems to shine away the Dark, these men march through.

The battle is done and now they are marching out of this large forest that separates them from civilization.

Between the cold crisp air and the dew covered ground, the forest feels almost magical and alive

If not for the overgrown bodies of the dead, the troops would likely want to stop here. But the Fog is spreading and Darkness chases them all.

Blood dripping from their boots and clothing making them look like they crawl out from Hells Below, yet they did not stop.

There is a pathway, a trail left by the people who have managed to survive this forest and emerge alive on the other end.

The trails acted like a guide for these band of warriors.

Because of this trail the troops steel their heart and they could bravely move forward. 

When night comes they stop and raise their tents and lit the fire to ease their fear from darkness.

When morning came, the faint mist will shroud the tree trunks, making it difficult to see what awaits.

Some Eradites who has affinity with illusion could point out the way making them valuable scouts.josei

In the morning when dawn breaks, before they went scouting, they will kneel and weep the Sun rises. 

They then lament their fates and pray to Lord Ashkenael to give them a worthy death before they scout the land

While most Eradites pray, the other Tribes rarely prays anymore. 

Not because they don't believe in their Gods but because they believe that this fog would even blind the Gods.

The Gods could not see them here, far from home, no blessing could be given. 

The Thirteen Tribe feared the Shadowlands primarily for this reason. Their Gods could not see beyond their lands.

They are cut off from their Gods here. Here is where Man reigns. Where the Will of the Gods do not affect the fates of Man.

They bathed in rivers when they had the chance and for a while, they are clean. No blood on their body.

And then the Darkly Thing appears when one least expects it, looking like a beast that comes out from the tales of nightmares. 

Horns on their heads, large sharp claws, red eyes that seems to shine in the dark and each time, these bands of warriors would then slaughter them mercilessly and blood is smeared onto them again.

When afternoon came the mist disappears and the scouts would be allowed to rest, usually resting on some fallen trees which appears nice enough to sit on.

When evening came, the feeling of death permeates the woods, and they will stop, open their tents and open their fires and wait till dawn come. 

For a week the troops move across the large forest.

The reason why the troops is not afraid is because the person leading them.

A young man with long snow white hair and piercing blue eyes is leading them. Behind him a chariot pull by four horses seems to carry a glaive of seven feet high.

The glaive is so heavy that it would require ten men to hold it steady yet on that man hand, it almost seems like the glaive is weightless.

Their leader is Arial Vermont. 

Riding his warhorse, he sits on the back of his horse majestically, like a general that could cut any obstacle in front of him.

He has a muscly appearance and his dragon armor glint dangerously when blood bathed it.

His face is flawless like a statue of the Old Gods. He is not beautiful man but manly and rugged, possessing a certain kingly air about him. 

He does not emit the air of a jovial or approachable man but emitting the kind of air that is forceful and intimidating.

His will is imperious and must be exercised. 

When the Darkly Things appears, with his glaive he cut them down like they were leaves, easily splitting any of those beast into two.

When he leads his men to battle, majority of the Darkly Things would be beheaded or split apart by him, leaving the scraps for his men to finish off.

Even now, there is only one casualty after days of travelling. It is because of this that the fifty thousand men behind him marched on.

General Ragar promises that the moment they arrived at the Three Kingdoms, the people here would be offered a choice. 

To leave Lord Arial and live among the Three Kingdoms inhabitants or follow Lord Arial to battle and conquer the Shadowlands.

Arial and Ragar did not hide the true reasons they recruited these many men and rescues them. 

Yet the choice is theirs. 

Many follow Lord Arial because he was strong and as their journey continues many more believes in his strength.

Some who only wanted to follow until the borders of the Kingdoms began changing their minds.

To live like a slave under the Three Great Tribes or to gamble their life and attain fame and wealth?

Lord Arial in this journey through the forest has become the protector and guardian to these fifty thousand men, as a pillar of morale and strength.

When he spoke, his voice calms the populace. 

When he acted, his will is accomplished. There is a certain specialness about him that makes people want to follow him.

He inspires people not only to fight for him, but to die for him. 

A born leader. 

Arial was on the front sitting on top of his warhorses looking calm, as his eyes scans the surroundings.

Sporadic thick oak tree and little undergrowth makes the forest look as though it goes on forever and Arial is bored of looking at trees. 

It has been days.

On his left, is Ragar, riding closely around him, keeping an eye for Arial and sometimes relaying orders to the back.

Ragar is even muscly then Arial, bulky and large with a height of six foot five, tall for a man, and only a few meters short than Arial.

His hair is short and his beard is bushy. His face seems to always be scowling and rugged. He wears a bloody armor and iron boots.

With black hair and hazel eyes, he looked like most of the horse riders of a tribe. 

Most of the tribesman has black hair and hazel eyes and many of the Tribes shares this characteristic.

'Ragar. how many more days?' Arial ask as he keep looking forward. 

'A few more days, Lord.' Ragar answers

'That's what you say a few days ago.' Arial said sighing.

'Hehehe' Ragar chuckles

Ragar on the other hand was thinking about something else. He looked behind him and then he asks in a whispering tone 

'My lord will you really let them go if they want to?' Arial looked at Ragar and he looked behind him and then with a pondering expression he releases a sigh and nodded.

'Yes. I do not need an unwilling army.' Ragar sighed and then he also nodded.

'As you wish.' 

He did not really think this is the right decision but the value of the people outside the New World has always been a little different than the values of the Tribes.

Since Ragar spends a lot of time outside the New World after his banishment, he also picks up certain culture of other people races.

For example, slavery. In the Human Continent the Caelum race abhor slavery while most continent either supports it or ambivalent towards it.

Even in this army, there are a lot of slaves who ran from their master house after the Horn was sounded. These slaves would surely follow Arial into battle and ask for freedom.

Like Hippolia, if they render merits to Arial, they believed Arial would reward them with freedom.

That day they march until the evening and then night came. That night Ragar inform Arial that they are near the mountain. 

After they pass those mountains the Three Kingdoms would appear. Ragar was in Arial tent, overseeing the supplies with Arial.

When it is time for him to return to his unit, Ragar decline. Ragar was sitting on the ground looking at Arial and pleading to Arial

'My lord, I urge you to speak some words to the troops to persuade them to follow you after we reached the Three Kingdoms. These men will be important if we wanted to form a strong base on the Three Kingdoms.'

Arial did not response the question with an answer but his face was solemn. For a while there was silence in the tent. Arial looked at Ragar and he could not help but sighs.

Either way, Arial also had to enter the battle to reach the Ancient Gate.

'Which territory would we arrive at?' Arial asked changing the subject. 

'Balhae' Ragar answer.

'Then that is the place we need to conquer.' Arial said and Ragar nodded