Chapter 16: Shadows on the Horizon

Elowen Moonshadow and Sir Garic Thunderstrike had been marching through the dense woods for hours. In truth, their troop had been on the move for nearly a fortnight, a gruelling journey that allowed no rest. There were 100 men in total, including Elowen and Garic, each step heavier than the last as the eerie silence of the forest pressed down upon them. Not a single conversation passed between the soldiers since their midnight encounter with a band of goblins. Now, they advanced in silence, ever watchful, with eyes sweeping across the terrain for any hint of peril, even though their detection spells revealed no threats. The party had journeyed far on horseback, leaving the echoes of battle far behind.

As daybreak approached, the sun ascended towards its zenith, piercing the dense mist that shrouded the forest. Garic and Elowen bore the look of fatigue etched deeply on their faces. Early morning mist clung to the forest floor, weaving between the trunks like ghostly tendrils, muffling every sound. Garic’s sharp gaze flickered to Elowen as they exchanged a wordless understanding: their men needed a break. The air was thick with tension, a tension made worse by the silence that had settled over the group. No birds sang yet as the daybreak was yet to start. No animals stirred. It was unnerving, as though the very forest itself was watching them.

"More than half the journey is behind us," Garic whispered, his voice scarcely disturbing the silence. "However, we cannot drive them on like this; they need rest."

Elowen nodded. “Agreed. We don’t know what lies ahead. Let the men recover their strength before we march any further.”

With a raised hand, Garic signalled the troop to halt. Relief was palpable as the men quickly got off their horses and set up a makeshift camp, eager to rest their weary bodies, if only for a short while. Although their reprieve would be brief, the interlude was much appreciated. Around the camp, soldiers busied themselves tending to their equipment and inspecting their weapons. All the while, they maintained a vigilant watch over their surroundings. Some remained chatty, while others were too weary to partake in conversation. After the men had settled in, Garic and Elowen convened with several of their most experienced veterans to strategize their forthcoming plan. Their destination, the outpost where Strossburg and the Recruits were located, was still a mystery. They only had the message they received from Strossburg and very little could be deduced from it Reports since then were none to speak off, they had little knowledge of the outpost's and its defenders' condition.

After the detailed but brief meeting, Garic leaned back against a branch on top of a tree, exhaling deeply. His fingers itched with unease. "I’ll take the next watch,” he said, his voice tense. “We can’t afford any more surprises.”

Elowen raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? You’ve barely rested since last night.”

“I’ll manage,” Garic replied. “You are also in the same Boat as I am you know. Besides, You’ve had your turn, and the scouts are out of mana. Someone needs to keep a proper eye on things.”

With a resigned nod, Elowen stepped back, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Be careful and don't slack off," she warned. Garic chuckled in response, "As if..." His gaze then drifted to the distant surroundings as their conversation ended. "The forest has been too quiet since the goblin attack. I don't like it," Garic muttered to himself.

Elowen and Garic agreed on the matter, yet they did not communicate this to one another and proceeded with their respective tasks. As the silence continued back in their Background, Garic began to get to work he raised his mana, trying to sense the area around them. Although Garic wasn’t as skilled in search-based mana arts as the scouts, he had enough experience to do the job. Indeed, he employed a comparable skill in his combat technique, which endowed him with a heightened awareness of his immediate surroundings. He’d have to be careful, though—the scouts had exhausted their mana during the earlier skirmish, and he didn’t want to follow in their footsteps. Besides the technique he used although similar only worked in closed combat situations but the basic idea was similar. To conserve his precious Mana reserves, which he couldn’t afford to waste he limited the search parameters to movement, specifically the movement of any living matter above a certain size.

"Keep it simple," Garic whispered, confining his search to a 250-meter radius. It was enough to give them a sense of any immediate threats without draining his strength too quickly.

Just as he was about to relax his focus, something caught his eye—something odd. High in the sky, a bird flew against the wind, its silhouette sharp against the pale morning sky. "A bird at this time of day? It should at least take another hour before the forest starts chirping with the sound of birds." Garic frowned. Most birds would still be resting at this hour. Something was off.

Instinct kicked in, and Garic narrowed his search. "Maybe I am right, Maybe I am wrong. But better be safe. Let me Check just in case." he muttered to himself as he changed his search parameters again. This time, it was directed towards the bird. His heart skipped a beat as he realized what it was—no ordinary bird, but a messenger bird. Whose, though? And what message could it be carrying?

Garic rushed down the tree and headed straight to the camp a few footsteps away.

“Elowen,” he called out sharply, already moving towards her.

She turned swiftly, her eyes narrowing. “What is it?”

“A messenger bird. I don’t recognize its markings, but it’s headed in the same direction as us. Came from the battlefield. Something’s not right.”

Elowen’s eyes flickered with concern. “You think it’s connected to the goblins?”

Garic hesitated, then nodded. “It has to be. The timing is too coincidental.”

They exchanged a tense glance, and Elowen sighed. “Fine. We follow it. But keep the men ready. If something goes wrong…”

“I’ll take responsibility,” Garic cut her off. “We can’t let this slip.”

The decision was made, and the group quickly gathered their equipment and set out following the bird's movements. Garic rode at the front, his eyes trained on the bird as it flitted through the sky ahead of them. Tension in the group had returned tenfold, and every man was on edge, scanning the trees for any sign of an ambush.

Hours passed, and they reached a cliff overlooking the vast expanse of the Waster River a small offshoot tributary of Breggia River. Below, the river cut through the land like a scar, its waters dark and swift. On the distant riverbank, an uncommon sight drew their gaze—a small herd of stray horses quenching their thirst at the water's brink. The horses were outfitted with Crafter gear, their saddles marked with the emblem and belongings of Strossburg’s forces.

Garic raised his hand, signalling the group to halt. “Elowen,” he whispered, motioning her forward. “Take a look at those horses.”

She nodded, using the scope passed to her to survey the scene from Garic. “They’re ours,” she confirmed. “But why would they be here, unattended?”

“That’s what we need to find out,” Garic said grimly. “We cross the river, check it out. Stay sharp.”

The group found a shallow part of the river and crossed on horseback. The air grew colder as they neared the other side, a creeping sense of unease washing over them. When they reached the horses to confirm what they saw earlier their concerns rose greatly. One of the men shouted to Garic and Elowen from afar "Sir I am afraid we have lost track of the messenger bird." this could have meant bad news for the group. Nevertheless, Garic remained unfazed, having already identified an alternative route to track the bird. Aric asked the men assigned to track the bird's movements. "where was it heading when you last saw it." "Sir it was heading in that direction." the soldier pointed in the same direction as the path the stray horses were coming from their footprints marked on the forest floor made it pretty evident. Without further delay, the group resumed their march, this time meticulously following the trail of the horse's footprints.

The horses led them along a dirt path, and as they followed the trail, the tension in the air grew thicker. Elowen was occupied, diligently sustaining a subtle search spell to detect any indications of enemy movements. She discreetly cast a spell akin to Garic's to avoid alerting the enemy. Elowen distinguished her approach by gradually increasing the spell's search radius in a radial pattern while keeping the mana flow to the minimal necessary level.

As time passed, she sensed something; swiftly, she retracted her spell to avoid drawing attention. Elowen raised her hand, signalling the group to halt. "I'm sensing something," she whispered in a hushed tone. "Up ahead. Goblins."

Garic’s jaw tightened. “How many?”

“I can’t be sure… but there’s a large figure with them. Might be a commander.”

Garic nodded, his mind racing. They couldn’t risk a confrontation, not with so many unknowns. “We need to get closer, see what we’re dealing with.”

The group moved swiftly and silently, creeping through the trees until they found a vantage point. Below them, in a clearing, they saw a towering goblin figure—Vorag—and a group of goblins locked in combat with a lone soldier. The soldier was barely holding his ground, and it was clear he wouldn’t last much longer.

“We can’t wait,” Garic whispered. “Prepare to fire.”

The command was passed down the line, and the soldiers readied their long-ranged mana spells, their focus on their target eagerly waiting for their orders. Garic’s voice rang out across the clearing, sharp and decisive. “Aim… fire!”

A barrage of mana projectiles tore through the air, their crackling energy lighting up the dim forest. Vorag’s eyes widened in surprise as he barked orders to his men, but it was too late. The projectiles slammed into the ground around them, throwing Vorag and his goblins back with a thunderous shockwave.

Vorag staggered to his feet, fury blazing in his eyes. “Who dares— Who goes there!” His voice was cut off by approaching footsteps, heavy and deliberate.

Through the settling dust, Vorag saw him—a man on a black horse, clad in thick black armor. Behind him, a hundred men marched in unison, their footsteps rumbling like distant thunder.

“Elowen, flank them,” he commanded.

Elowen nodded and gave the signal. The soldiers advanced, closing in on the goblins. Vorag snarled, but before he could order a counterattack, Elowen’s men fired another volley of mana bolts, forcing the goblins into retreat.

After reaching towards the target Garic dismounted his horse and approached Vorag, his massive hammer resting across his shoulder gleaming in the dying light of day. Time felt to stand still as their gazes met. The battle was far from concluded; Garic Thunderstrike, the vanquisher of Celestia, had made his entrance.

***