As Azpen spoke those words, the tall, muscular man tightened his grip around the heavy mace in his hands.
Azpen didn't move.
Steam continued to rise from his body, like water boiling and evaporating into the air. His eyes never blinked. They remained locked onto the large mercenary.
Slowly...
The big man's hands began to tremble.
Even the mace shook.
Azpen never uttered another threat.
He didn't need to.
The silence itself crushed everyone present.
Then he turned toward us.
"You have two minutes."
"Repair your armor."
"Check your weapons."
"Then we move."
No one wasted a second.
I rushed toward Rusty. I had already strapped my armor earlier. I checked every buckle, tightened the leather straps, picked up my spear, and swung it a few times to make sure my grip hadn't weakened.
Then Azpen gave the order.
"Move."
His black horse charged forward.
All we could see was his back as we followed behind him.
At first, I thought we were returning to the nest.
We rode in that direction for some distance...
Then Azpen suddenly changed course.
No one questioned him.
I let out a slow breath and expanded my Sensory Field once more.
The dull ache inside my head immediately returned, but I ignored it.
Azpen never once looked back.
His entire focus remained ahead.
After riding for a while, a lone lizardman appeared before us.
He raised his sword.
Azpen didn't.
He simply charged.
The black horse flew past the lizardman.
In that single instant, Azpen grabbed the creature by its throat, lifted it off the ground with one arm, and slammed it against a tree hard enough to pin its body there.
He never slowed down.
Not even for a moment.
It was overwhelming strength.
A short while later, we spotted a small group of mercenaries running toward us.
Azpen pulled his horse to a stop just before colliding with them.
He didn't ask their names.
"Badges."
The mercenaries immediately showed the Mercenary Office badges hanging from their belts.
Only after confirming them did Azpen speak.
"Which way?"
They exchanged nervous glances.
"We... we don't know."
"We just ran."
Azpen turned toward the mages traveling with them.
"Find them."
His voice sounded more like a command than a request.
The mages hurriedly began chanting.
After a few moments, one of them pointed toward the southwest.
"There."
"A large group is moving in that direction."
Azpen nodded once.
"Ziena."
A blonde woman immediately rode forward.
"Take the mages back to camp."
"Stay there."
He tossed her a sealed pouch.
I couldn't tell what was inside.
She caught it without question, gathered the mages, and turned her horse back toward camp.
Without another word, Azpen led the rest of us toward the direction the mage had indicated.
The swamp slowed every horse.
The muddy ground swallowed our speed.
Whenever thick branches blocked the path, Azpen casually drew the curved sword hanging at his waist and cut straight through them without slowing.
After more than an hour of riding...
We found them.
The rear force.
Hundreds of lizardmen.
They have noticed us.
Azpen didn't hesitate.
He charged.
The shield bearers immediately formed a defensive wall with their spears lowered.
We rushed after him...
But none of us could keep up with his speed.
Then Azpen roared.
The sound alone made my ears ring.
Instead of drawing the massive greatsword strapped across his back...
He drew the curved sword hanging from his waist.
With both hands gripping the hilt, he leaned forward on his horse.
The moment he entered their formation...
His sword flashed.
The shield split apart.
The lizardman behind it was cleaved in half just as easily.
His horse leaped over the collapsing bodies.
Then...
Azpen raised his sword toward the sky.
The silver aura surrounding him erupted, wrapping both the blade and the black horse beneath him.
For a single moment...
Every mercenary behind him forgot the fear weighing on their hearts.
One after another, weapons were raised.
Spears.
Swords.
Axes.
Bows.
No one spoke.
No one needed to.
We simply followed the man riding at the very front.
The real battle...
Had just begun.