The soldiers of Namesh marched forward towards the direction of the Lonorith river where Aeloria was headed. They chanted their own prayers as they marched.
"From north to south, from east to west, in my favor the stars shall align.
Oh All-Seeing One, the last and the first—all is by Your design.
Your unworthy servant calls once more,
To make the path to victory clear.
Though the road be treachery, filled with death, and gore,
It is You and You alone I shall fear.
Great are my foes, but greater is my God,
The only one I worship; the only one I shall call."
"HALT," the Captain gave the signal to slow down.
All eyes followed his line of sight. They saw two figures on the hill up ahead, one in black and one in red.
"You, go up there and tell them to evacuate." The Captain commanded, pointing at a soldier nearby, a decision they would all regret.
…
Meanwhile, Aeloria stood in her millitary wear of black-and-crimson at the southern border.
Four hundred and fifty soldiers arrayed behind her in perfect ranks along the banks of the Lonorith river. The banners snapped in the wind, the silver wolf of Runevale snarling against blood-red cloth.
According to Ramius's perfect plan, Namesh had only two realistic choices: strike the obviously weak southern river defences where Aeloria waited, or swing north to Jorm where Commander Orin and his larger force were dug in.
Hundred elite scouts from the hundred-man intelligence division were split evenly between the two armies. The moment the enemy's direction was confirmed, the scouts would ride like lightning to summon the second force. A pincer that could not fail.
Everything had been quiet. Maybe a little too quiet.
Aeloria had spent the first day pacing the riverbank, bored, occasionally giggling to herself every time she remembered the words potato-headed brute commander.
"Head Captain, look," Yoru said suddenly, shielding her eyes against the low sun.
Two figures were walking toward them from the west, their steps unhurried.
One cloaked in black from head to toe and the other in red. They were both covered in blood, as though they had gone through a fierce battle.
There was only one safe road through the western border into Runevale lands. Any traveller with half a brain took it. The only alternative was a suicidal detour through the bandit-infested Bonefang Mountains that eventually spilled into Jorm and half a dozen other kingdoms. Either route, sooner or later, brought you past Runevale's banners.
Everyone in the known world had heard about the war brewing between Runevale and Namesh.
Yet these two walked straight down the main road as if the hundreds of crimson wolf banners meant nothing at all.
"They must be stupid. Can't they see the banners raised high? To think there are still fools willing to challenge Lady Nyxelene," one of the younger soldiers muttered behind Aeloria.
Another laughed nervously. "Maybe they're blind."
Aeloria's stomach twisted.
'I have a bad feeling about this.'
"Head Captain, please let me go and deal with them," the Great Captain said, stepping forward eagerly, her hand was already on her sword hilt. She acted formally on field and friendly when they were alone. Nonetheless, she was also a soldier. She could easily deal with two travelers. If only they were not covered in blood.
Seeing the determination on Yoru's face, Aeloria's hesitation only lasted a heartbeat. Yoru was a Great Captain—capable, loyal, and hungry to prove herself.
"You have my permission."
Yoru saluted sharply and strode out to meet them, her voice ringing with authority as she called for the strangers to halt and state their business.
No sound carried back on the wind.
The two men in black kept walking.
Yoru's voice was cut off mid-sentence.
A moment later her voice was simply… gone.
The soldiers behind Aeloria shifted uneasily.
As they drew closer, Aeloria noticed that the man in black dragged something on the floor.
'What is he dragging? He didn't have anything with him before.'
Aeloria's blood turned to ice.
Even from this distance she could see the short black hair plastered to the pale skin, the familiar Great Captain's hair now matted with blood.
The man pulled on Yoru's hair dragging her motionless body across the ground.
But the two men kept walking, slow and steady, straight toward the four hundred and fifty soldiers.
"What happened? Where did Captain Yoru go?" one soldier stammered.
No one answered. Four hundred and fifty pairs of eyes stayed locked on the two approaching figures.
When the strangers finally stepped close enough for faces to be seen, the wind itself seemed to die.
Two men.
One cloaked entirely in black, his face was as pale as moonlight.
The other in deep crimson, his armour gleaming like fresh-spilled blood.
The man in black moved first as he flicked his wrist, throwing the motionless body at Aeloria's feet like she weighed nothing.
Yoru's stared up at her, her eyes still wide in frozen surprise, her mouth parted as if she had been about to give one final warning. Blood pooled beneath her head and back, soaking into the leather of Aeloria's boots.
A low, animal sound escaped Aeloria's throat.
Yoru had been the very first soldier in the entire army to walk up to the cannibal, the first to laugh with her instead of at her. They had sparred together almost every dawn, trading bruises and grins.
"You bastard! What did you do to Captain Yoru?!" Larin, one of the three soldiers who had sparred with Aeloria on her first day, roared, grief and fury overriding sense. He charged, his sword raised high in both hands.
The man in red moved, one lazy step, his blade flashing once.
The soldier's head left his shoulders in a perfect, clean arc. The body took two more stumbling steps before it understood it was dead and collapsed.
The crimson warrior caught Larin's head by the hair before it could touch the ground, tossing it underhand. It rolled across the ground and came to rest beside Yoru's, his eyes still blinking in disbelief.
Aeloria's vision went crimson for a moment before returning to purple.
"How dare you!" another soldier screamed, sword half-drawn.
"Take," Aeloria's voice cut through the air like a whip, low and trembling with something far more dangerous than rage.
She bent, cradled Yoru's body against her chest for one heartbeat, then scooped her effortlessly into her arms.
She then pressed Yoru gently into the arms of the nearest soldier.
"Take five others. Ride for Runevale. Give Larin a proper burial, then take Yoru to Nyxelene. Tell her the Cannibal wants Yoru breathing by the time she returns." Aeloria spoke through gritted teeth.
'I know the Queen is powerful, but I doubt that even she could bring a dead person back to life.' The soldier thought, putting two fingers on Yoru's pulse. He shook his head before handing the motionless maiden to a nearby soldier.
"Yes, Head Captain," the man whispered.
Even though she noticed Yoru had no pulse when she held her, she pretended not to have. Or maybe she couldn't accept it.
Six horses thundered away in a spray of dirt.
Aeloria stepped forward until only twenty paces separated her from the two strangers. She stared straight into the black-clad man's strange eyes and spoke, each word carved from ice and fire.
"Tell me, dear sir… are you tired of living? I don't care if you're trying to start a war with Runevale. But provoking Queen Nyxelene and provoking me are two very different things, and you are about to learn the difference with your life."
"How dare you raise your voice in His Majesty's presence!" the man in red snarled, his hand already on his sword.
The man in black lifted one hand. The red warrior froze instantly.
'A king with only one escort?' Aeloria thought. 'Who in all the hells is he?'
The man in black studied her the way a scholar studies an interesting insect.
"Unbelievably smooth skin. Long black hair threaded with faint traces of brown. Those unnatural purple eyes with pupil like a viper's. And not a single visible weapon or armor. You must be the Head Captain of Runevale," he said, his voice almost admiring, his gaze drifting to the wind-tossed treetops as though the army in front of him were beneath notice.
"Aeloria the Cannibal."
'He knows my name and still dares this?'
"I am truly sorry if the woman was precious to you," he continued, adopting a conversational tone.
"She left me no choice. She attacked first. I can, of course, compensate you for the inconvenience of her death."
"The price," Aeloria answered, her voice shaking with barely leashed violence, "is your head at my feet. You claim she attacked first? How dare you lie to my face. I know Yoru. She was reasonable, polite, and disciplined. She would never draw her sword first."
"Watch your tongue, cannibal," the red warrior hissed.
"Is that the name of the female soldier?" the man in black asked, tilting his head with mild curiosity.
"She must have been very precious to you. And you're right. I killed her, just like I did those Namesh's sad excuse for soldiers. All she did was tell me, quite politely, that the road was closed and I should turn back. I'm afraid I disliked the look in her eyes when she said it. She insisted on standing in my way."
"So you killed her because you didn't like the look in her eyes?" Aeloria's voice cracked like breaking ice.
"Because she did her duty and asked you to turn back? It doesn't matter anymore. You both die here today."
She dropped into a crouch, knees bent, fingers flexing, teeth already lengthening behind her lips, ready to tear the world apart.
The man in black turned his back to her completely, his hands clasped behind him, and gazed out over the endless horizon beyond the river as though she were no more threatening than a summer breeze.
He spoke without looking back at the Cannibal whose eyes were beginning to turn crimson.
"Think carefully about your actions, little Cannibal."
He brushed a dry leaf that fell on his shoulder away, only then did he glance over his shoulder, his eyes gleaming with amusement.
"Because a man capable of standing in my way… has not yet been born."