Descending from the mountains, they finally reached the vast plains. As they marched southward, the land stretched wide and the roads became smoother. The sun shone brightly above, and the earth trembled beneath the synchronized steps of thousands of soldiers.
After a long silence, Ener turned to Mamir with a troubled look:
— "My friend… how are we going to bring such a massive army across to Trolos? Marching through mountains and plains is one thing, but how do we cross the sea?"
Mamir furrowed his brows, taking a deep breath:
— "Yes, that is the greatest problem. When I first came here… it was through a magical gate. Do you remember? That enchanted well. It brought me to Elandur."
Ener nodded slowly:
— "Right… I also came through that well. But when I opened my eyes, I was lying in a green valley. There was no return gate. It seems that path only opens once."
Both fell into silence, burdened by the thought. Tens of thousands of soldiers, thousands of supply wagons… moving them to Trolos seemed impossible.
At that very moment, a figure appeared on the horizon. A man barely holding himself upright on horseback, an arrow stuck in his shoulder, his armor stained with blood. The horse staggered forward and collapsed before the army, the man nearly falling with it.
Mamir leapt down from his horse and ran to him.
— "Runya! Heal him, my love!"
Without hesitation, Runya placed her hands on the wound. The arrow dissolved in the glow of her healing magic, the bleeding closed, and the man's ragged breath steadied. His eyes fluttered open.
Mamir knelt beside him:
— "Who are you? Who did this to you?"
The man spoke in a sorrowful voice:
— "I… I am the King of Sahal. My kingdom lies by the sea, a peaceful and prosperous land. But two months ago, a monster invaded us. His name is Trawen… He claimed to be one of the one hundred and ten commanders of Ostomas Harland. He said that since three of the ten commanders stationed in Elandur had been slain, Ostomas ordered the rest to spread darkness across the continent."
His voice trembled.
— "They invaded my kingdom with shadow beasts and creatures born of darkness. Trawen himself… his body was like that of an orc, but his face looked disturbingly human. My army was twenty thousand strong… yet we could not prevail. My people were either slain or taken captive…"
Mamir's eyes hardened. It struck him like a blade to the chest: the three monsters he had slain to rescue his mother, Necor, and Bete… Ostomas was avenging them, unleashing cruelty upon innocents.
Mamir stood tall, his voice unwavering:
— "King of Sahal, I swear this: we will free your kingdom and your people. But in return, you must give us ships to carry our army across to Trolos."
The king lowered his gaze, his voice heavy with despair:
— "How could you possibly defeat them? Even with twenty thousand soldiers, I could not…"
Mamir's eyes locked onto his, burning with conviction:
— "I am the one who slew those three commanders. And I swear I will slay the rest. I will tear them down, one by one."
The king froze, his lips quivering. For a moment, his shoulders sagged under the weight of despair—but then, slowly, light returned to his eyes. Hope, fragile yet fierce, kindled within him.
— "If that is true… if you truly killed three of them… then perhaps fate has sent you to us. Very well! My ships will be yours. The seas of Sahal shall carry your army to Trolos!"
Mamir placed a steady hand on his shoulder:
— "Then together, we will march against the darkness."
And in that moment, the army had gained a new ally. What began in despair now blazed into a beacon of hope against the shadow.
---