The air was electric with tension as Aric words hung in the air like a challenge. "I'm sorry, but you won't be around to see Arshan's demise. It's your turn to meet the underworld," he declared, his voice laced with a mix of determination and defiance that sent shivers down the spines of even the most hardened warriors.
With a swift motion, Aric leaped forward, his sword slicing through the air in a wide arc, the sound of clashing steel echoing through the battlefield. But his opponent was no pushover, and with a swift counterattack, he deflected Aric's blow, sending him stumbling backward with a large cut on his chest. Aric's upper body was drenched in blood, his face twisted in a grimace of pain. The sight was gruesome, making it hard to tell who was who in the chaos of the battle.
Aric's mana was running on fumes, his breathing ragged, but he refused to give up. With a surge of adrenaline, he launched another attack, this time managing to land a critical hit on his enemy. The opponent's eyes widened in shock as he stumbled backward, his sword slipping from his grasp. As the enemy's head flew off, a faint smile played on his lips, like he was hiding a secret or reveling in some twisted satisfaction.
But Aric triumph was short-lived. The moment his opponent's head hit the ground, five spears came flying from different directions, piercing Aric's body with deadly precision. He felt a searing pain, like his body was on fire, as he stumbled backward, his vision blurring.
Arshan, caught up in the heat of battle, was oblivious to the danger that had befallen his friend. It wasn't until he saw the spears lodged in Aric's body that he let out a anguished roar, "Nooooo!" The sound was primal, raw, and full of despair. Arshan charged towards the soldiers responsible, his sword flashing in the sunlight, but it was too late.
Aric was on his last breath, his eyes cloudy with pain, his chest heaving with each labored breath. As the battle subsided, Arshan's comrades gathered around Aric, their faces etched with grief and shock. With great effort, Aric spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, "That man said... 6 - six Tier Aura users and 4 - Fifth Circle mages... sent to kill your father... I don't know how many of them were killed by your father hand but you.... have to be careful, always rely on your own judgment... don't let anyone take advantage of you... If someone takes something from you, take double in return."
Each word was a struggle, but Aric determination to warn Arshan kept him going. Aric gaze swept across his comrades, his eyes locking onto theirs, filled with a deep sadness and a sense of resignation. "If you want to continue following him, so be it. But don't betray him at any cost."
Aric's words were met with a heavy silence, the only sound the labored breathing of the wounded and the dying. And then, Aric's eyes closed, and he was gone. The silence that followed was oppressive, like the weight of Aric's sacrifice was crushing them all.
Arshan stood frozen, his eyes fixed on Aric's lifeless body, his face twisted in a mixture of grief and rage. For a moment, he forgot about the responsibilities that weighed on his shoulders, forgot about the war that still raged on, and forgot about everything except the pain of losing his friend, mentor and uncle.
The weight of his emotions threatened to overwhelm him, but he pushed it back, his jaw clenched in determination. He took a deep breath, and with a heavy heart, he gave the order, "Take all the resources, horses, and our dead comrades." The words caught in his throat, and for a moment, he was overcome with emotion.
He surveyed his surroundings, his eyes scanning the horizon, his mind numb with grief. With a resolute determination, he led his remaining soldiers towards the mountains, ready to face whatever lay ahead in future.
The sun was setting over the vast expanse of Gotso Hill, casting a golden glow over the graves of their fallen comrades. The group had gathered to lay their friends to rest, their faces etched with grief and exhaustion. As they buried their dead, they whispered a silent prayer, hoping that the spirits of the departed would watch over them, guiding them through the treacherous path that lay ahead. The weight of their sacrifice hung heavy in the air, a constant reminder of what they had lost.
After the burial, the group changed direction, their movements swift and calculated. They had to avoid detection at all costs, and so they veered and turned, their footsteps quiet on the dusty earth. The landscape blurred together as they walked, the only constant being the ache in their hearts. They had lost so much, and yet they pressed on, driven by a fierce determination to survive.
The scout voice cut through the silence, his words barely above a whisper. "There's a cave, about a day's journey from here. It's on the north-west side of Basera Kingdom. We can hide there, regroup, and plan our next move." The group nodded, their eyes locked on the scout, their faces set with determination. As they made their way to the cave, the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the world in a dark, following light. The cave loomed before them, its entrance a black mouth in the side of the mountain.
As they entered the cave, the group collapsed onto the rocky floor, exhausted. Arshan looked around at the faces of his companions, his eyes searching for the spark that had driven them to this point. The faces were gaunt, the eyes sunken, but the spark still flickered, a flame that refused to be extinguished. "You're all the last survivors," Arshan said, his voice low and husky. "I want to confirm one thing with you all. Those who want to leave, I'll let you go with 3% of the resources. We looted a lot, and I know we have more than enough to go around."
The group looked at each other, their faces puzzled. No one stood up, no one spoke. Arshan's eyes locked onto each face, searching for any sign of hesitation. The silence stretched out, heavy with unspoken emotions. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Arshan broke the silence. "Then it's decided. No one is leaving." The group nodded, their faces set with determination.
Arshan eyes locked onto the group, his mind racing with plans and strategies. "Let's discuss our next move. How many of you are good in business? How many of you are on the verge of becoming Aura users?" The discussion that followed was long and intense, the group throwing around ideas and suggestions. Finally, after hours of debate, they had a plan.
Six people were selected to start their own trading companies in different countries, their mission to amass wealth and resources that would help the group in their fight against their enemies. Thirteen people were chosen to become trainers, their task to mold the next generation of warriors into formidable fighters. And the remaining twenty-three were tasked with recruiting new talent, scouring the land for those with the potential to join their cause.
As the group dispersed, Arshan stood up, his eyes locked onto the horizon. "I'll be living in the south, near the capital," he said, his voice low and determined. "I'll be the eyes and ears of our group, gathering intelligence and estimating the strength of our enemies." The group nodded, their faces set with determination. They knew what lay ahead, the challenges they would face, and the sacrifices they would have to make. But they were ready. They were ready to face whatever came their way, to fight for their lives, and to emerge victorious.
The darkness of the cave seemed to recede, pushed back by the spark of determination that burned within them. They would not be defeated. They would not be broken. They would rise again, stronger and more resilient than ever before.