Vero of Sorer gathered and encircled the enemy. Five hundred strong adventurers waited for the enemies. Nolan climbed a tree and watched the adventurers who were ready to fight. He was hidden among the branches and he has strapped leaves and tree branches on his cloak to cover his presence.
He was holding a whistle given by Vero of Sorer. He uses this whistle to signal them if he spots enemies. Although they do not trust him, they know that they are going to need him to warn them. He was a Ghost, a man hunted by monsters.
The adventurers started their attack by climbing down the ridge. They rappelled down the ridge while the marksmen snipe the watchman monsters. The amateurs were kept in check by the veterans and they were lead to their positions. In their mind, they probably didn't think that the real mission would be like this. They expected a brave charge and a battle that would make them sweat blood and tears. The adventurers didn't expect that they'd be systematically killing the monsters.
It took a while before the monsters noticed something amiss. The marksmen rained fire on the rages and targeted the strong-looking ones while the adventurers deployed a shield wall to bar the monsters. They are not able to match the monsters but the pikes they prepared kept them at bay.
The repeater crossbows became popular and the adventurers were armed with them. It allowed the adventurers to attack the monsters and deal damage. The monsters were not easy prey. They were able to think for their own and it became a battle of wits. Who would outwit who first? It became a battle between the two factions.
He watched still. His eyes reflected the battle. He looked like a lifeless doll as he examines what was happening. He was saving energy in case he needed to move. Although he scouted the area and gave details about the monsters he was not a true master of planning out. It was Vero of Sorer who commanded the battle. He was only a watchman who would warn them.
The battle continued. The monsters have started to take out the amateurs. The surviving ones were pulled back by their comrades while the veterans controlled the battle. Vero of Sorer led and took command. His commands were precise and concise. He was able to deal with the monsters attempt to flank them. The monsters tried to concentrate their forces but he dispersed them by making use of the marksmen.
The monsters gathered in the area. Bodies of both factions were strewn across. The adventurers were human yet they have to keep up with the monsters that have higher stamina. To deal with this problem they have switched. The veterans would rest before switching it out.
The marksmen couldn't forever fire upon the monsters so they had to retreat in case they would be targeted. Vero of Sorer was stained with bile and entrails that his plate armor was now dyed with blood. Intestines of monsters were hanging on his shoulder. And he has already switched to his main weapon since his blade has become dull.
His bastard sword cut through enemies while a column of adventurers followed his lead. Their goal was to clear the area and they were doing fine. They didn't need his help and they had it under control. From five hundred strong men they slowly became three-hundred. By the time the last monster fell through the sword of an adventurer. They fell on their butts and took deep breathes.
It was then that Vero of Sorer roared against the heavens. His men cheered as they celebrate their victory. Many of them died during this battle. Two-hundred men died to clear the area of monsters. It was not a small price to pay and those they know and talked with are now needed to be buried.
Vero of Sorer stood among the men that died under his command. His eyes darted to where the Ghost that told them of this area. He was a person that could not easily trust. Even though they've won again he still could not trust the ghost that was helping them vaguely and subtly.
It was hard for Vero of Sorer to put his life for him. He was no fool and he has long played politics to know that every single person there is in the world has their own motives and personal agendas. How could he trust this ghostly revenant that attracts monsters?
Even so, he chooses to take what the Ghost told him and acted upon it. Many of their men would have died if it weren't for his accurate understanding and the list of monsters and their weak points. He was the one that gave the idea while they acted upon it. It was up to Vero of Sorer and it was his choice to make to this operation.
Taking the outer land territories was worth doing so. It would allow him to improve his standing and take claims over the areas as his own. The adventurers have vague ideas on what the outer land could give them. Not to mention that the Talon King would surely reward them in doing this service by giving them the land they wanted.
Vero of Sorer had to convince himself that what he did today was worth it. Yet, seeing the silence of the adventurers that he commanded made him think otherwise. He was no fool. He was not a heartless man who would forget about the people that he fought with. To command them he had to win their hearts. They trusted him and now because of that trust they lay still with no beating hearts on them.
He placed his bastard sword on the ground. He took his helmet off and his gray hair drifted along with the wind. The stains of blood on him made him look rough. He was a pretty man and his appearance was worth calling him a warrior who has gone through hell.
The adventurers stood their ground and planted their sword on the ground. They raised their right fists and roared loudly as they could. In that roar were their sorrow, sadness, despair, and anger. It was a holler to the heavens above that they won the battle of this day.
...
"What do you think of this scene, Ghost?" said Vero of Sorer.
"I am used to it, unfortunately." He threaded the corpses and arrived in front of Vero of Sorer.
"I see," said Vero of Sorer. "Look at this Ghost, all these young men dying just to take this area. Isn't it unfortunate?"
"Certainly, it is." He nodded at that remark. "But it was their choice to follow you, Vero of Sorer. It was not their fault but yours."
"Quite the remark," he snorted. "These men indeed died for me. I promised them riches that they'd never use. Do you know what the worst part of all of this?" said Vero of Sorer. "I had to tell their loved ones. Right in their face, I'll them of what happened to their loved."
He shuffled his feet and touched the back of his neck. "I will not say that I am sorry. I will not tell them that they die in glory. It was their choice and unfortunately, I can only say that."
"A cruel man!" he spat out. "Or is it because you are used to all of this slaughter?"
"Yes."
"They say that Bleak Walkers are heirs of the Old Revenant. The Old Revenant that dug his way out of the grave to hunt down the enemies that wronged him, an old tale of revenge turned into that of a sad man who walked the earth complete unaware that his heart was no longer beating. He passed the curses of the sigils after witnessing various animals suffer. More dead than alive – his heirs are men and women who walked the dangerous parts of the world without fear." He breathed in a loud sigh. "I now believe this."
"Is that so?" replied him.
"Certainly, you have the eyes of a dead man. You walk alone and bleakly. The aura you emit is good enough to make people think that you are corpse walking. I do not know what sufferings you have taken in your life. I do not know your despair or your sad story. I do not even like you or appreciate your presence here saying that it was their choice. I admit it was their choice. Yet you cannot even be decent at it?" He folded his arms.
"I see," he nodded. "I shall keep my silence."
"Ghost, the way you speak hurts the fragile hearts of my men. They are not deaf and I can tell that they are waiting to fight you." He said curtly.
"Is that so?" he eyed the adventurers. Their eyes were seething in anger. They did not like his way of speaking. As if he didn't read the somber mood of those around him. He understood what Vero of Sorer meant when he said that he was a cruel man.
Emotions can be fragile in the results of a hard-won conflict. So when he saw Vero of Sorer turn his back away from him. He saw a muscular man seething at him. The muscular man in leather armor tried to grab him but he punched the man in his wound, grabbed the back of his head and kneed him right in the jaw. He followed it with an elbow hook to the side of his neck and turned into a stab right in the shoulder blades of the man.
The muscular man's eyes rolled back. He drew his sword and neared it the man's neck. The adventurers grabbed hold of their weapons and eyed him like a tiger growling towards its prey. He pulled the man's hair and showed the adventurers the Sword of Zarachiah drawing a line of blood. "Move and attack he'll die. I've learned to kill when I strike. I faced monsters that I consider nothing. Have you all faced monsters from the barren lands? Normal metal cannot hurt them. You'd need a silver embedded sword or a phantasmal oil to neutralize their magical defense. Not to mention that you have to exploit their weak spots. Their fur and scales are harder than steel. So I was taught how to kill them fast. You have the advantage and I can feel the tips of your bolts and arrows. But, do not assume that you will win. The obstacle is the way. If you want to add more men to die here then that is fine. I can make use of his large stature as a shield. If you are a cruel enough then I believe that you'll be able to target him. Do not think that you can intimidate me with your numbers. Hah!" he scoffed. "I've faced monsters stronger than you folks. And not to mention that can you really fight in that state?"
He gave them a dead man's glare. His eyes glowered red in tranquil fury. "Will you fight or rest? Will you let him die in order to vent your fury?"
Vero of Sorer watch indifferently. His fist balled tightly yet he didn't act. The adventurers gritted their teeth and lowered their weapons. He dragged the man casually and eyed them with a blank expression. It was until that he was able to see a path of escape that he spoke, "Vero of Sorer, it is your choice to conquer the outer lands. Whether you move or not, I will have Tania the Obsidian right in the palm of my hands."
He pushed the muscular man away and he felled face flat on the ground. He sheathed his sword and launched his grappling hook and attached the harness to his belt. Then, he made use of the double-reel and pulled himself up before swinging away.
The adventurers woke up the man who was laid down. Vero of Sorer sheathed his bastard sword and shook his plated helmet. A person in full armor stood shoulder to shoulder with Vero of Sorer, "His words have no lie in them. I believe that he could do damage to us and take down our men."
"Hmm," Vero of Sorer nodded. "He's a learned man. That aura and his experience cannot be faked. Yet, I do not like that man. He's making use of us for his own goals. The same can be said when we used him. It is an equal exchange of making use of one another."
The armored person scoffed, "Yet you work with him?"
"Yes," he replied with a nod. "I have to use everything that I have."