The first light of dawn crept over the horizon, casting a faint mist across the land as we set out on our journey home with my younger brother and sister. The echoes of the bloody battle in Tarkan Valley still lingered in my ears, but the weight in my heart had finally eased—at least half of it. Safe and sound, my siblings sat in the carriage, their exhausted faces gradually relaxing as they drifted into a peaceful slumber.
Yet, in these turbulent times, true peace was nothing but an illusion.
As we crossed a desolate plain, the distant thunder of hooves suddenly shattered the silence, accompanied by shouts and the clamor of battle. I raised my hand, signaling the column to halt, and turned my gaze toward the rolling hills in the distance. A cloud of dust rose from the earth as a disorganized group of cavalrymen fled toward us, pursued by a relentless tide of yellow-clad riders.
"Desert bandits!" Nogan narrowed his eyes and muttered under his breath. "They're hunting someone."
My attention was drawn to a flash of silver amidst the scattered riders. At the center of the group, a woman rode a white warhorse, her gleaming silver armor reflecting the sunlight like a cold, radiant moon. Her posture was upright, her sword gripped firmly in hand. Though hard-pressed, every swing of her blade was precise, cutting down any enemy who dared approach. Even in dire straits, her composure and decisiveness were unmistakable.
"Look at the banner… That's the imperial crest of the Southern Empire!" Nogan exclaimed, then frowned. "It must be Princess Ira of the Southern Empire!"
A flicker of hesitation passed through my mind. After the brutal fight we had just endured, our troops were weary. Engaging in another battle would only slow us down and risk further losses. But then, a thought struck me—wasn't this the perfect opportunity for a heroic rescue?
When my eyes returned to the silver-clad woman, I saw her guards falling one by one. The desert riders closed in like a pack of bloodthirsty wolves, and her white steed, exhausted, began to slow. She was moments away from being overtaken.
"We can't stand by and watch," I murmured under my breath. Drawing my sword, I turned to the cavalry behind me, my voice firm. "Form up! Charge—we save her!"
"Charge!"
At my command, the heavy cavalry surged forward like a steel tide, thundering down the slope of the hill. Sunlight glinted off our armor, lances bristled like a forest, and banners whipped wildly in the wind. The earth trembled beneath the hooves of our warhorses as we crashed into the enemy ranks.
"Reinforcements!" The silver-armored woman turned at the sound of our charge, her eyes widening with surprise and hope.
The desert riders, caught off guard, scrambled to reorganize, but it was too late. Our heavy cavalry smashed through their formation, scattering them like leaves in a storm.
Sword in hand, I led the charge straight into the enemy vanguard. A desert horseman swung his scimitar at me, but with a cold snort, I cleaved through his guard and sent him tumbling from his saddle. My warhorse plowed through the enemy ranks, trampling bodies beneath its iron-shod hooves as blood sprayed and screams filled the air.
"Kill them all!" My men roared, their lances piercing armor and skewering riders from their mounts.
The desert cavalry crumbled—some fled, others tried to rally, but against our relentless assault, their resistance was as futile as trying to snuff out flames in a gale.
Turning my horse, I galloped toward the silver-armored woman just as her white stallion stumbled, its hind legs buckling. A desert rider seized the opportunity, charging from the side with his scimitar raised high, aiming for her back.
"Look out!" I bellowed, spurring my mount forward. My blade flashed through the air, piercing the attacker's throat at the last possible moment and dragging him from his saddle.
The woman turned to me, her expression one of startled gratitude before she composed herself. "Thank you," she said simply.
"No need for thanks, Your Highness." I tightened my grip on the reins, positioning myself protectively beside her. "We must move—now!"
As the battle subsided, the plain fell silent save for the whispering wind and the fading light of dusk. The ground was stained crimson, littered with the dead and the broken remnants of weapons.
My horse came to a halt before the silver-armored woman. Her white steed was spent, its sides heaving, while she herself had removed her helmet, revealing a striking face—pale with exhaustion yet still regal, her brown hair tousled by the wind. Though weary, her eyes burned with an unyielding light, proud and resolute.
She studied me for a long moment before inclining her head slightly. "Who are you? Why did you save me?"
"Princess of the Southern Empire?" I bowed slightly, my tone respectful. "I am a vassal of the Southern Empire. Seeing royalty in peril, it was only right to lend my blade."
Her brow arched, her gaze sharp with scrutiny. "Your name?"
"Gathel, Your Highness," I answered plainly.
A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched her lips. "Gathel… The Southern Empire will not forget your service today."
Nogan approached, his voice low as he reported, "Your brother and sister are still in the carriage. We can't linger here—the desert riders may send reinforcements."
"Your Highness, we must depart immediately," I said to the princess. "Your retinue has suffered heavy losses. Ride with us."
Princess Ira glanced at my column, seeming to recognize that we were no ordinary force, then nodded. "Very well. I shall accompany you."
We resumed our journey, the princess now mounted on a fresh horse at my side. The wind across the plains was still biting, but compared to the chaos of battle, the quiet felt almost precious.
"You've just come from a battle yourselves, haven't you?" Her eyes lingered on the dried blood staining our armor.
I nodded. "Last night, in Tarkan Valley, we fought a band of marauders to rescue my brother and sister. We were heading south when we encountered you."
A flicker of something unreadable passed through her gaze—surprise, perhaps, that I had fought so fiercely for my kin. "In these dark times, few would go to such lengths for family…"
"Even in chaos, some things must never be abandoned," I replied firmly.
She looked at me, approval glinting in her eyes. "The Southern Empire is fortunate to have a vassal like you."
I said nothing more, my gaze fixed on the horizon. The road ahead was long, and the storm was far from over.
By evening, we made camp in a dense forest. The soldiers set up makeshift shelters and lit campfires to ward off the chill. The princess sat upon a large rock, her remaining attendants—now few in number—tending to her damaged armor.
I approached, offering her a steaming bowl of stew. "Your Highness, eat. You need your strength."
She accepted it with a nod. "Thank you. You're not like the warmongering generals I've known."
I smirked. "Fighting is only worthwhile if it protects what matters. Without purpose, we're no better than bandits."
She was silent for a moment before asking, "How are your brother and sister?"
My expression softened as I glanced toward the carriage. "They were frightened, but they're safe now. As for me…" I looked up at the darkening sky, resolve hardening my features. "No matter how many battles I fight, at least I've done my duty."
The princess studied me, her gaze warming slightly. "You are a man who can be trusted."
That night, as the campfires flickered and the soldiers rested, Nogan hurried to my side. "Gathel, our scouts report a desert raiding party approaching. A large one."
I frowned, peering into the darkness. "It seems they're not ready to let the princess go so easily."
"What's the plan? Do we retreat or fight?" Nogan's eyes gleamed with anticipation.
After a brief pause, I made my decision. "If we flee with the princess and my siblings, we'll be too slow. They'll catch us. Better to ambush them here—teach the desert riders a lesson they won't forget."
I turned to the soldiers gathered around the fire, my voice cutting through the night like steel. "Prepare for battle. Tonight, we send these desert dogs to their graves!"
A resounding roar rose from the men. "Aye!"
Princess Ira, hearing the commotion, approached. Her expression was calm but determined. "I will fight alongside you."
As I met her unwavering gaze, a thought crossed my mind—this was no pampered royal. Her strength and courage were the kind the Southern Empire truly needed.
Tonight, the winds of war would rise again. And in the crucible of battle, the bond between Princess Ira and me would only grow stronger.