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Alytheon stepped out of his room, clad in his gleaming white armor, its edges adorned with threads of gold and silver, shining under the morning sun. A golden sun emblem rested at the center of his chest plate, as if pulsing with life, radiating both strength and nobility. His steps were firm, and the echo of his metal boots reverberated through the corridor, like a short farewell melody.
Upon exiting the house, he found his family waiting for him in the front courtyard. Miralyn stood there, her eyes carrying a mix of pride and concern, while Kylar and Ilora stood beside her, each displaying their emotions differently. Behind them, Arendal had gathered the servants into a neat row, standing in solemn respect, with Elenia beside him, her hands clasped behind her back in a formal gesture.
Alytheon first approached Miralyn, gazing into her deep eyes for a moment before leaning down to place a gentle kiss on her forehead—a brief farewell, yet laden with unspoken emotions. Miralyn said nothing, but her gaze alone carried hundreds of words left unsaid.
Ilora stepped forward, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears, held back with a child's brave effort. In a soft yet firm voice, she said,
"Father… please don't stay away for too long this time."
Alytheon smiled warmly, then lowered himself slightly, placing his hand on her head as he spoke in a reassuring tone,
"I promise, my little one. I'll be back soon."
Kylar then stepped forward with confident strides, trying to mask his worry behind a facade of courage. With a proud voice, he said,
"Father, don't worry… the house is under my protection."
Alytheon chuckled lightly, patting his son's shoulder as he replied,
"I know that well, my little knight. I'm counting on you."
He then turned to Arendal and looked at him seriously, saying,
"A group from the royal palace will come to take you there. Make sure everything goes smoothly… Don't worry."
Arendal bowed respectfully and replied,
"Safe travels, my lord."
Elenia added with a faint smile, though her eyes reflected silent concern,
"May the stars guide you, young master."
Without another word, Alytheon turned and strode toward his loyal horse, Stormith, who waited eagerly, stomping the ground with his powerful hooves. With a graceful motion, he mounted the steed and firmly took the reins. He cast one last glance at his family before nudging the horse lightly with his heel, setting off swiftly toward the gate, leaving behind a trail of dust… and silent wishes for his safe return.
With each step away, his heart grew heavier, yet his face remained as solid as stone, for a leader like him could not show weakness… except when he was alone with himself.
Alytheon arrived at the camp swiftly, riding his loyal horse, Stormith, who seemed to share his master's enthusiasm and readiness. As he entered the camp's courtyard, he spotted both Ragarith and Serinus standing beside their horses, fully prepared for departure. Ragarith was making final adjustments to his heavy weaponry and massive axe, while Serinus tested the sharpness of his blade with light movements, his expression as calm as ever, yet his eyes concealed a subtle tension.
Dismounting his horse, Alytheon approached them and spoke in a serious tone,
"Are you both ready?"
Ragarith grinned broadly and replied,
"I would've started the fight if you had taken any longer."
Serinus, as usual, simply gave a small nod, signaling his full readiness.
Moments later, Darcian, Valinor, and Velaria arrived at the camp, dressed entirely differently from their usual formal attire. Their clothes were plain and ordinary, clearly meant to disguise their identities and avoid drawing attention. Even their weapons were carefully concealed beneath their cloaks.
Darcian approached with steady steps and said,
"We'll head to the last village the man in the black cloak visited. We'll track him from there and observe his movements closely."
Alytheon nodded in agreement and then said firmly,
"A solid plan. As for me, I'll go to a village he hasn't visited yet. I'll start improving our image there, offering aid to the people—to break the lies being spread about us."
Valinor smirked slightly and remarked,
"I just hope your campaign doesn't turn into a grand festival. You attract trouble wherever you go."
Ragarith chuckled and playfully smacked Valinor on the shoulder, saying,
"And what else did you expect? He's Alytheon!"
Alytheon gave a faint smile but quickly returned to seriousness,
"Be careful on your way. This man is no ordinary opponent. A single mistake could cost us dearly."
Everyone nodded in agreement before splitting into two teams, each heading in their designated direction.
Alytheon, alongside Ragarith and Serinus, advanced toward the unknown with confidence and strength.
While Darcian, Valinor, and Velaria moved through the shadows in silence…
And in each of their hearts, a single goal burned—uncovering the truth and protecting the kingdom.
Alytheon and his companions rode in prolonged silence, the only sounds being the rhythmic clatter of hooves against the hard ground and the soft whisper of the wind passing through the trees. The road stretched endlessly before them, and the sky began to take on the warm hues of sunset, painting the horizon in shades of deep orange and crimson.
Suddenly, Serinus broke the silence with a quiet hum, his melodious voice carrying an old tune that brought back memories of their early adventures. Ragarith couldn't resist the rhythm and chuckled before joining in with his deep, resonant voice, transforming the hum into a more lively melody.
Before long, the rest of the soldiers joined in, their voices blending together naturally, as if the song was part of their collective soul. It was a simple tune, yet it carried warmth and nostalgia, telling untold stories of camaraderie, battles, and victories they had forged together.
Alytheon remained silent, yet he listened attentively. His expression remained as serious as ever, but a faint glimmer of relief flickered in his eyes, as if this simple melody was enough to ease the weight of his thoughts. He relaxed slightly in his saddle, allowing himself to enjoy this rare moment of peace amidst their long journey.
The melody flowed through the trees, accompanying the caravan as if the road itself sang along, bearing witness to the unbreakable bond between them. It was a simple reminder—no matter the challenges ahead, they were not alone.
Just as the song filled the air, blending with the steady rhythm of the horses' hooves, a sudden sharp scream shattered the tranquility.
From the dense trees flanking the road, a large group of bandits emerged, clearly outnumbering Alytheon's men. Their appearances were strange, resembling half-breeds with their rough features and sharp, predatory eyes—eyes that reflected both rage and desperation.
Alythion shouted powerfully as he straightened himself on his horse:
"Defensive formation around the supplies!"
His words were clear and firm, carrying the weight of experience that left no room for hesitation.
The soldiers moved with astonishing speed, despite the surprise, swiftly taking their positions around the supply wagons, forming a tight defensive circle. Rajareth stood at the front, gripping his massive axe, a defiant grin on his face, while Serenos took position beside Alythion, his light sword dancing in his hand, ready for battle.
The bandits charged like a raging flood, their screams filling the air as they waved rusted and stolen weapons. But Alythion's men stood firm, repelling the initial attacks with steadfast resolve despite being outnumbered. Alythion fought alongside his men, his gleaming sword flashing like a streak of lightning, striking with precision and force. He moved smoothly, as if his body knew battle better than his mind.
Rajareth surged into the heart of the fight, delivering crushing blows with his axe, laughing loudly as if the chaos breathed new life into him. Meanwhile, Serenos moved like a dark shadow, striking swiftly and withdrawing before his enemies even realized they had been wounded.
Despite the tough situation, Alythion's men gradually gained control of the battlefield. Yet, the strangest thing was not just the fight itself, but the way the bandits looked at Alythion—with burning hatred, as if they weren't merely here to steal, but had a specific target in mind.
Alythion felt this unsettling sensation as he locked eyes with one of them, seeing a deep-seated hatred that went beyond mere resentment for a nobleman... It felt personal.
As the battlefield roared with the sounds of screams, clashing steel, and heavy footsteps, the noise suddenly dulled, as if the very air had stopped moving. Alythion felt something strange—an eerie sensation that made the hairs on his neck stand on end.
From the shadows of the trees, a strange-looking man emerged. He wore a tattered brown robe that billowed in the soft breeze. His head was bald, his skin pale and wrinkled, as if life had long abandoned him. But what stood out the most were his hollow black eyes—deep, like pits that swallowed everything they gazed upon.
In his left hand, he held an old lantern, from which a strange purple flame flickered, moving unnaturally, as though it had a life of its own. The sorcerer slowly raised the lantern, then chanted an ominous incantation in an ancient, harsh tongue—its broken, eerie tones seeming to pierce the soul before the mind.
The ground trembled beneath the soldiers' feet, and many felt a weight pressing on their chests, as if the air itself had grown heavier. Suddenly, the eyes of some of the bandits fighting began to glow with a faint purple hue. Their movements turned unnaturally sharp—they became faster, stronger, more ferocious.
Alythion shouted:
"A sorcerer! Aim your weapons at him immediately!"
But the sorcerer had already finished his spell and smiled—a lifeless, empty grin. He raised the lantern and unleashed a wave of violet energy, surging like a storm toward Alythion's soldiers.
Alythion leaped beside Rajareth, shouting:
"Fortify! Fall back!"
He raised his shield to block part of the blast, but the force was overwhelming, sending both him and Rajareth tumbling backward.
Alythion quickly rose to his feet, his face covered in dust, his eyes blazing with fury. He tightened his grip on his sword and declared:
"I won't let you harm my men… or toy with my mind!"
With unwavering determination, he advanced toward the sorcerer, ready to end this battle—no matter the cost.
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If you like the story ! please support it
And the best way to do this is through patréon
You get access to +5 chapters !
Or even 12+ chapters if you want !
So please check out my patréon
https://www.patréon.com/c/zakx205
Don't forget to change "é" to "e"