I swapped out my flimsy armor for a more polished set, white like marble, smoother and slimmer than the last.
It hugged my form with precision, every edge refined and burnished until it gleamed in the low morning light.
At my hip rested a new sword, longer than my previous one, with a gently curved guard shaped like a crescent.
Its sheath was black and silver, freshly oiled, catching droplets of dew as I moved.
Malachi had given us our orders at dawn: half of the soldiers were to remain at the fortress until reinforcements arrived from the capital.
Now that we had pushed Fertical's forces back this far, he planned to launch an assault on a city close to their heartland.
Gransire, a city not far from Fertical's capital.
With Malachi leading, our force numbered roughly six thousand. Not enough to siege a kingdom, but perhaps enough to burn its front gates.
I strapped a saddle onto my horse and checked her legs carefully, running my hand down her flank to make sure she wasn't injured.
Her black coat was still damp with morning mist, but her breath was steady, and her stance strong.
A few paces away, Jennifer fastened her medical supplies to her mount. Her horse was smaller, lighter, trained more for speed than power.
She worked quickly, expertly looping bags of bandages and salves over the leather straps.
"You should stay behind this time, Jen," I said as I approached. "It's going to be brutal."
She glanced at me, frowning as she cinched one last strap. "Have you forgotten that I'm not really weaker than you?"
I smirked. "I'm pretty sure you are."
Before she could answer, a sharp clap echoed across the courtyard. Malachi, standing beside his horse, had our attention.
Without another word, he mounted with a single swift motion.
"Alright," he called out, voice booming. "We move."
The sun had barely broken over the horizon, casting long crimson shadows through the trees.
The sky was a soft blend of red and gold, not yet blue, not yet awake.
Around us, the assembled troops answered his command with a loud chorus.
Horses neighed and hooves struck earth. Soldiers mounted up in one coordinated motion.
Jennifer and I rode toward the front, though she drifted back with the medics.
All except her were stationed in the rear. She never listened to orders when it came to staying safe.
We didn't have archers in this company, which disappointed me, but most in our kingdom trained with spears and swords.
Jennifer was actually more skilled with a spear than with a sword, but being a medic meant she wasn't permitted one.
It was hard being a healer in a world that praised only destruction.
Malachi turned in his saddle and gave a final nod to the ranks.
He lowered his helmet over his face and raised his greatsword, its surface catching the morning light.
"Ride!"
At once, hooves thundered against the dirt. Dust lifted in clouds as we charged forward.
I kicked into pace, riding up to Malachi's side as we broke through the tree line.
"When we get there," I called out, "how many do you expect to meet us?"
He didn't look back at first. Then, with a sigh, he answered, "It's impossible to know. But with Count Molotov's reputation… a lot."
Count Molotov, Madikai Molotov, was infamous.
His blood and fire magic had scorched entire fields, and his battlefield achievements were nothing short of terrifying.
Three years ago, during Fertical's demon crisis, he reportedly slew over ten thousand demons alone.
He earned the title Blood Emperor after that and was soon raised to Count.
Much like Malachi, now called Duke Novastia, Molotov stood at the top of Fertical's noble military elite. A living legend made of flame and wrath.
If I had to face Madikai… I doubted I would last a second. My head would probably fly off before I could lift my blade.
"You plan to face him alone?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.
"Who else could withstand his power?" He said with a curious tone.
I laughed under my breath and looked ahead.
The land rolled gently before us, grass rippling with the wind.
Trees passed in green blurs, and the sky gradually deepened to a soft blue, kissed with streaks of gold.
And I wondered. How would the coming bloodshed stain this beautiful morning?
"So be honest, do you think you can beat him?" I asked, turning back to Malachi.
He paused, then slowly removed his helm and looked at me with steady eyes. "I'm certain that today shall not be my last on this planet."
His gaze held a strange brilliance, and for the briefest instant, I thought I saw his pupils shift, unnatural, sharp, almost glinting with something ancient.
I turned my attention ahead, where the enemy loomed in the distance.
Clad in gleaming silver armor, the Fertical forces stood in rigid formation across the plains.
Their banners fluttered against the windless morning like signals of defiance.
Malachi raised one hand, halting our advance. The stomping of hooves fell into silence as our entire force stopped behind him.
Then his voice rang out, calm and clear. "Split up. We surround them."
Without hesitation, I veered left, while Malachi rode right, both of us taking half the force with us to flank the enemy's formation.
But they didn't wait.
The Fertical cavalry surged forward without warning, straight and fearless.
They broke from their line and thundered across the field toward us, no caution, no delay, just pure, brutal engagement.
I drew my sword and leapt from my horse just as the front lines collided.
The ground shook under the weight of the charge, and steel crashed against steel.
I hit the earth running.
My blade flashed through the air as I met the first soldier head-on, my body moving on instinct.
Behind me, our soldiers screamed their war cries and followed, charging into the chaos.
The morning sun shone above it all, brilliant, golden, and soon to be stained red.
I clashed with soldier after soldier, cutting them down with clean, fluid strikes. We were pushing them back quickly in the opening engagement.
Anstalionah held a far higher standard for army enlistment, and we trained our soldiers with relentless discipline.
Fertical, on the other hand, always favored quantity over quality, a mistake in any war, but especially in one where he participated.
Off to the right, Malachi tore through soldiers like they were made of clay.
Screams and the wet clash of steel filled the air, the rhythm of death almost mesmerizing.
I snapped back to reality just in time to parry an incoming sword.
Falling back a few steps, I let the front lines surge past me and turned toward the rear. I needed to find Jennifer.
We weren't suffering many losses, but introducing some healing magic into the battle could tip the advantage even further.
As I pulled back through the chaos, I spotted her, kneeling beside a wounded soldier, healing a severed arm with calm precision.
I smiled faintly and started toward her. Then it happened.
An overwhelming pressure swept across the battlefield like a shockwave. My knees nearly buckled, and for a moment
I felt something snap inside my mind, some primal instinct recoiling at the aura pressing down on us.
But just as quickly, another presence washed over me, like a soft blanket of sleep and calm, shielding me from madness.
I turned slowly. There, at the heart of the battlefield, stood two men, face to face.
All around them, soldiers from both sides had dropped, unconscious or paralyzed by the sheer force of their clashing presences.
Even Jennifer was slumped on the ground, eyes fluttering as if caught in a dream.
And I stared, rooted in awe.
Madikai.
He had long crimson hair that flowed like fire, clad in black armor that shimmered faintly under the sun.
A blood-red cape hung from his shoulders, and in his hand, he held a long red sword with a jagged, spiked guard.
His skin was pale, almost luminous, catching the light in a way that gave him a terrifying brilliance.
But his eyes, his eyes were what truly froze me. Even from such a distance, I felt the weight they carried.
His sclera were pitch black, the irises a dark crimson hexagon with faint black strands spiraling within.
This was the aura of one close to the divine.
I tried to remain conscious, gripping my sword tighter.
But the last thing I saw was their blades colliding with a thunderous crash, and then, darkness.