Chapter 159: To War

The lines of men walking in formation stretched so far that it was impossible to see the end. Sam and Einar were the youngest ones in their unit, with everyone else towering over them. Despite being older than Sam, Einar looked his equal or even younger, with his delicate features, short red hair, and thin build.

Sam was certain he had something to do with the green- and white-haired Eldoris people because the guy was equally as handsome as them.

The distance to the Dreaded Lands wasn't far, but they were stopping at all the towns and villages along the way to check if any had been affected by the Ashenvale advance units. Fortunately, they hadn't encountered any trouble yet, but it wasn't safe. They had little information about their enemies' ranks and numbers.

The orders with the last report had come months ago, and by now, who knew what had happened or how far the Ashenvale forces had advanced?

Sam had thought many of his batchmates would refuse to join Eldoris given the current situation, especially with Lady Vidalia nowhere to be found. Instead, it only made them more determined. He had observed an almost worshipful faith in Eldoris soldiers toward their royalty.

Though Lady Vidalia's mother had lost the crown, they were still related to the reigning queen, Eldorians were one big elven family, and were still considered royalty by everyone.

"Ah... this heat is unbearable. I'm going to melt in these clothes," Yovan started whining, as usual, after they had been traveling for three days and the initial excitement began to fade.

"I like this uniform. It makes me look mature," Einar said, ignoring Yovan's complaints.

"I miss the snow," Sam added.

They had arrived during winter. Sam remembered the early days when he toured the city with Damian and stayed at an inn. Damian had complained about not being able to see trees and plants in the snow for some reason.

At night, they camped in an open space near a river, taking all the precautions one would expect. Valoris was a capable leader, if nothing else. Sam saw him walking from one tent to another, checking on things. Meanwhile, two guys were laughing and giggling near the campfire, as if they thought everything was a silly game. They were around Yovan's age—16, at most or younger.

These were the noble brats who had been chosen to act as captain and vice-captain of Unit 3. Sam prayed he would never have to take direct orders from them or get separated from captains like Mira or Royce.

Noticing Sam glaring at them, Einar nudged him to stop and focus on his food. Sam knew it was foolish to stare, especially with so many soldiers around, the brats even had 5 house knights of first rank each on their second or even third job as guards, far above their level. Sam couldn't afford to mess this up again.

He told himself it would be fine—there had to be a reason Valoris chose them to lead a unit filled with young recruits.

After dinner, they found a spot near one of the campfires, finally getting a little privacy. Searᴄh the nôvel_Fire.ηet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

"Sam, don't think too much about it. I doubt they'll send those two on any important missions. That's probably why this unit is made up entirely of new recruits. We're just backup," Einar said, trying to ease Sam's mind.

"I know... it just feels weird. They don't know us. They don't know which of us is skilled or not. How can they lead us like this?" Sam replied.

"That's just how it is, Sam. We were trained to follow orders, and they're the ones we have to take orders from. If you don't like it, you have to perform well and rise above them," Yovan said, staring into the crackling fire. With the forest sounds behind them and the millions of bright stars overhead, the place seemed almost peaceful.

"They've divided us into unique special units. We're with Captain Mira, and our unit consists mostly of new and old pugilists soldiers," Geldric explained.

"I would've loved to follow Mira too. I wish we could change units," Einar sighed.

"Not until you kill at least 50 first-rankers. Only then can you request a transfer to another unit. One of the older soldiers in our unit told us," Jorven added.

"Well, at least it's possible. I'll make that my goal for now," Einar said, Sam and Yovan also nodded with determination. They would certainly feel better if they were under a captain they knew and trusted rather than some random idiots.

Sam considered closing his eyes for a bit. Though he wouldn't admit it, he was tired from all the walking. Even though Captain Mira had trained them to run ten laps around the camp every single day, this constant marching felt worse. Now, he understood why those laps were necessary. Without them, Sam doubted he could have made it through two days of this.

It was spring, with vegetation everywhere, not to mention the threat of monsters and beasts. The journey was tedious, especially in their armor and boots. But this wasn't a picnic; they were marching towards war.

Just as Sam was about to close his eyes and looking at the bright stars, he felt a sudden sense of wrongness. There were no signs of danger—no monsters, no threats—yet Sam couldn't shake the feeling that something terrible was about to happen. Instinctively, he jumped to his feet, hand on the sword Maximus had given him long ago, scanning the dark forest around them.

The others noticed his cautious actions. Instead of mocking him or making jokes, which would have been typical, they also rose to their feet, backing up to form a small circle and drawing their weapons. To anyone watching, they might have looked foolish, but their caution was not misplaced.

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A second later, the clear night sky, once filled with twinkling stars, was suddenly ablaze. Thousands of fire arrows and spells erupted from the darkness, raining down directly on the heart of their temporary camp.