“Since you’re ready, it's time to leave.”

“Uncle, what's happening?” Toale hurriedly called out. The situation was strange and suspicious.

The Uncles are acting strangely so late at night, and the sudden gifts…

Graveth smiled warmly, “We spotted some tracks when we set camp. Devan thinks they may be from a dangerous creature. I thought it was a good opportunity to see you fight.”

Hearing this Toales eyes lit up with battle lust. “Can I call Bryan over?”

Graveths smile faltered. He turned to hide his expression as he replied, “No need to disturb him.”

Finishing, Graveth strode towards his men.

Toale stared at his back. A hard glint flashed across his eyes before his sceptical expression melted away, as if it never existed.

He had grown up among adults, many who sought the life of a mercenary to escape from the law. Oslem itself was a hotbed of thieves, swindlers and murderers. To be raised in such a situation had caused both orphans, Toale and Bryan, to be keen beyond their years. They had learnt how to control their expressions, to maintain a poker face in front of those gifted with the silver tongues. They had long learnt to notice the minute expressions on the faces of merchants or stall holders - those who would sell a rotten apple as if it was sculpted from gold with a straight face. Youthful innocence and naivety without the chance to bloom among the scum of society.

His uncles suspicious activities, the sudden hunt at night and the expensive gifts. If he couldn't notice that there was something was wrong then he couldn't be a bigger fool.

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Tavak urged his warhorse forward. The night was breaking and his men were nearing the end of their endurance. They had spent the last few days on the move, the two battles, while not dangerous, were exhausting. The men eager to complete their massacre and rest.

A few hundred this time. Considerably larger than the previous two.

The sight was quite intimidating. The wagons had been placed at regular intervals around the camp. Torchlight indicating the multitude of sentries manning the perimeter. The exposed portions of the encampment had been fortified with large caltrops, vicious spikes that denied cavalry charges.

“Haha. Niles. It seems we’ve found our prey.”

Niles smiled in response.

Caltrops, large number of sentries and wagons to defend. This was not a formation against beasts but man. Afterall, the effort in hauling or making caltrops every night as well as positioning them far outweighed any potential damage incurred by the desolate beasts. This was not the tactic of a mercenary hunting group but the encampment style of a military unit.

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Dike lay on his sleeping roll. His mood fluctuating as he waited apprehensively. They had waited 10 years, lying dormant as they awaited the young masters awakening. If he held his father's blood then they would fight, if not, they would raise him as a commoner. Truth be told, many of them wished he wouldn't inherit the Bloody Sun, their lives, while difficult, was still safe and fulfilling.

Of the many who had been tasked with this, only 54 remained, the others passing during their frantic escape or from the hunts. Unable to sleep, Dike exited his tent. His countenance sorrowful as he walked among his friends and companions. It was his task, while the other 50 led the young master away, to oversee the camp. To improve its defences and wait for the destined assault.

The cheer of the campfires that previously beckoned him were now distant and foreign. Only his resolute will and loyalty that had withstood ten years of waiting kept him from breaking down in sorrow.

Without realizing Dike ended up at the outskirts of the camp, staring into the darkness, as if wishing to be swallowed, forgetting his inner turmoil. As he gazed into the abyssal darkness, he slowly regained his calm.

We agreed to this 10 years ago! Now is not the time for sentimentality.

As he prepared to return, a silvery glint caught his eye. A second glance revealing nothing.

Haha. There's no way. The enemies should take another one or two days to reach here.

Despite his incredulity of the thought, Dike couldn't help but activate his Rune, concentrating its powers to his eyes - a deep cyan glow appearing. Maybe it was because he had already accepted his fate, maybe because he could no longer bear the pain of betrayal, but the sight that met him filled him with an eerie calm.

Hundred of cavalry, silver armour polished to perfection. Hundreds of spears, a forest of murder.

And above them, a flag, a Silver Dragon coiled around a Silver Spear.