The battlefield had fallen silent, the clamor of war replaced by the groans of the dying and the occasional shuffle of feet as mercenaries picked through the dead. The air still carried the stench of blood and smoke, but to Kael, it felt no different than any other day. War had become as familiar to him as the weight of the sword in his hand.
Kael wiped the blood from his blade on a fallen soldier's cloak before sliding it back into its sheath. Around him, other members of Kerric's band moved through the wreckage, looting the bodies of the dead for whatever spoils they could find, coins, armor, anything that could be sold. The defeated had no use for wealth anymore.
He scanned the field, eyes narrowing. Silas was gone, as expected. The noble bastard had slipped away, as he always did. Kael had learned early on not to waste energy chasing ghosts like Silas. There would be another time, another battlefield.
Nearby, two of the mercenaries lifted a body from the ground. One of them, a heavyset man with a scar running down the side of his face, glanced at Kael. "You all right, Kael? Took a nasty hit back there."
Kael's hand instinctively went to his side, where the spear had pierced him. The wound was shallow, but it throbbed. "I'm fine."
The man grunted. "Good. Be a shame to lose you. We need every hand we can get, especially with the way things are going."
Kael didn't respond. Instead, he looked out over the battlefield. It wasn't just this skirmish. The entire continent was a chessboard, kingdoms and noble houses making their moves, each one vying for more land, more power. Mercenaries like him were just pieces on that board, moved at the whim of whichever noble could pay.
The clinking of metal armor signaled the approach of Kerric. The mercenary leader strode across the battlefield, his weathered face set in a grim expression. Kerric was a man who had seen more wars than most men had lived years. His body carried the scars of countless battles, but his eyes were still sharp, still assessing. He didn't need to speak to command authority, it was in every step he took.
"Kerric," Kael greeted him with a nod.
Kerric's gaze swept over the battlefield before settling on Kael. "You handled yourself well," he said, his voice rough as gravel. "But you took a hit. Careless."
Kael straightened, though he kept his voice steady. "I didn't see it coming."
"You never do," Kerric said, eyeing the bloodstained spear tip lying in the dirt. "That's the problem with battles. No matter how good you are, you can still die if you're not careful. You're not invincible."
Kael didn't flinch. He had learned long ago that Kerric wasn't one to coddle his men. Praise was rare, and lessons were often hard-earned. "I'll remember."
Kerric grunted in approval, though his eyes remained cold. "We've been hired to clear out a village nearby. A Noble family wants the land for themselves. I'm sending you and a few others ahead to scout. Don't get yourself killed."
Kael nodded, feeling the weight of the assignment settle on his shoulders. He wasn't unfamiliar with these kinds of missions. It was always the same, one noble wanted what another had, and they were the ones paid to take it. His thoughts briefly flickered to the faces of the villagers who would be caught in the crossfire, but he pushed the thought away. It didn't matter. It never did.
Kerric turned to leave but stopped mid-step, looking back at Kael. "You've come a long way from that orphan I found. But don't think for a second that you're beyond the reach of death."
Kael watched him walk away, the words lingering in his mind. Kerric had found him on a battlefield not so different from this one, years ago. A child, alone among the bodies, his village reduced to ash. That day had changed everything. Kerric had taken him in, trained him, taught him that survival was the only truth in a world that cared little for the weak.
But as Kael stared across the battlefield now, a small part of him wondered if there was more to life than just survival. He quickly buried the thought. It was dangerous to think like that. Dangerous and foolish.
Kael turned toward the horizon. The village Kerric had mentioned lay in that direction, waiting for them. Another mission. Another chance to prove himself. He tightened his grip on his sword, pushing aside any doubts. There was no room for weakness. Not in this world.
He glanced back at the men gathering behind Kerric. His gaze swept across the field one last time.
And now, Kael set off towards his next battle.