Michael scowled at Chase's empty expression, his eyes had gone dark on the morning he had returned.
The lively green gemstones of his had shifted to a more quiet and somber color that resembled the plant life of perhaps a jungle or a mythical cavern filled with alien life.
He had not spoken of where he had gone during those nine days, or even what he had gained from it.
In fact, he had barely spoken at all.
Normally, Michael could understand his emotions quite well, he would understand when Chase was angry, or when he was prideful.
And yet in the current moments as their carriage rolled over the lands of Vallmora, venturing deeper into the Eastern plains, Chase showed no familiar emotions.
His expression was empty and lifeless, almost like he had been turned into nothing more than a painting.
But even paintings could tell a story.
Which Chase did not, in fact he told of nothing, only a void where the once ambitious king had voiced his pride.
He was nothing more than a shell in those moments.
Beside Michael, Leo was equipping a pair of gauntlets, and beside him Luke was loading bolts into several quivers.
On the other side, on Chase's right, sat Poppy of House Aries, who only watched out the window with a solemn expression on her picturesque face.
On his left, Onyx was sharpening the dragonscale blade that he had used to cut down countless of Rider's men.
That was only one of seventeen carriages that followed behind this one.
With three large caravans in the far back of the convoy.
They had about a thousand soldiers, counting the allies of The City of Factions that were a couple of miles back, still preparing their forces.
Rider had more than ten thousand within his kingdom, not including civilians who were loyal to him, that was if there were even any left...
With two strong generals still in his ranks, one who hid his face and name where ever he went.
That wasn't even accounting for the raw strength of King Rider...
He had struck down Leander, killed a very god, and even bore a sigil of a great house...
In truth, they were at such a disadvantage that there was no realistic way of explaining how they could possibly win this war.
With only the element of surprise on their side, they had to pray to the gods that Chase could take on Rider in combat and at least stall until the city was evacuated...
That had been the task given to everyone... Everyone aside from Chase...
He had only given them the vague message of "You will know when it is time to fight..." Which had made little sense to any of his men.
Yet, he had not given them anymore information, other than the basics of the strategy and positioning.
Michael was in no position to argue against Chase's strategy, as he had proven himself time and time again as a leader.
However, he still couldn't shake the feeling of dread as the sound of horses trotting against the gravel pathway had been the only sound to ever echo louder than the sharp grinding against metal that Onyx had never dared to lift his eyes from.
Luke eventually began to hum a strange tune after about twenty minutes of travel.
And just as he had...
The sight of the vibrant sun finally began to descend, lighting the entire horizon up with hues of oranges and pinks.
Michael's jaw fell a little, as such a beautiful sight could only be explained with the word of wonderous.
Luke continued to hum, as if it was a chant preparing the group of them for war.
Leo began to tap his fingers against the leather seat, as if beating a drum to the cold tune that left Luke's throat.
Michael could only shut his eyes, ignoring the bountiful sight of the sunset.
They had far more ahead of them than they could have ever prepared for, although they had good numbers, and great chemistry Michael couldn't help but feel that their efforts were naught but suicide...
Eventually, Michael began to join into the ominous music that Luke and Leo continued to play as the carriage pushed forward...