The road stretched ahead of them, a narrow path winding through the hills, flanked by thick trees on either side. The town was far behind them now, and the only sounds were the rustle of the wind through the leaves and the steady crunch of their boots against the dirt. The air was heavy, weighed down by the knowledge of what they were up against.
Kael led the group, his gaze fixed ahead, but his thoughts were elsewhere. The Iron Circle. A religious empire with enough power to sway kingdoms. He had heard of them before, but never this close. If they were involved, then whatever was happening was bigger than anything Kerric's band had ever faced.
He glanced over his shoulder at the others. Veyron walked beside him, his face drawn with worry. Harlan and the rest of the survivors trailed behind, their eyes scanning the trees, wary of any movement. They were on edge. They all were.
"We heading to the capital?" Veyron asked, breaking the silence.
Kael shook his head. "Too risky. If the Iron Circle's involved, they'll have eyes everywhere. We need information, but we can't walk straight into their hands."
Veyron frowned. "Then where?"
"There's someone who might know more," Kael said, his voice low. "A contact from Kerric's past. He used to work for one of the noble houses before he turned mercenary. He might have heard something."
"Can we trust him?"
Kael didn't answer. The truth was, he didn't know if they could trust anyone anymore. But they had no other leads, and time was running out. They had to move quickly before the Iron Circle closed in.
The day dragged on, and with each step, the weight of uncertainty pressed down harder. Harlan and the others were quiet, but Kael could sense the unease growing among them. They had always relied on Kerric to lead them, and now, with Kerric missing and Kael taking charge, there was doubt.
At a small clearing, Kael called for a brief rest. The men dropped to the ground, exhaustion evident on their faces. Veyron sat beside Kael, his gaze lingering on the others.
"They're losing faith," Veyron muttered, just loud enough for Kael to hear.
Kael didn't respond immediately. He had seen it too, the glances, the hesitations. They were mercenaries, men who lived by the sword and followed whoever led them to victory. And right now, Kael hadn't given them much to believe in.
"They'll follow when the time comes," Kael said, though the words sounded more like a command than a reassurance.
Veyron sighed. "They're not soldiers, Kael. They're not used to this kind of enemy."
"We're not soldiers either," Kael replied. "But we're alive, and that's more than can be said for the others."
A tense silence fell between them. Kael understood the pressure, he felt it himself. But he couldn't afford to show doubt. Not now.
As they packed up and prepared to move again, Kael's sharp eyes caught movement in the trees. A flicker of motion, too quick to be natural. He raised his hand, signaling the others to stop.
"What is it?" Veyron whispered, his hand already moving toward his sword.
Kael didn't answer. He stepped forward, his body tense, every sense on high alert. The forest was quiet, too quiet. And then he saw it again, the faintest glint of metal through the trees.
"We're being watched," Kael muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.
Without warning, a figure burst from the underbrush, a blur of motion and steel. Kael's sword was in his hand before he even registered the attack, the sound of clashing blades filling the air. The assailant was quick, but Kael was quicker. He sidestepped the first strike, driving his sword into the attacker's side with practiced precision.
The man crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath, blood pooling around him. Kael crouched beside him, his sword still at the ready.
"Who sent you?" Kael demanded, his voice cold.
The man coughed, blood spilling from his mouth, but he managed a weak smile. "You think you can stop them?" he rasped. "You don't even know what you're dealing with."
Kael's jaw tightened. "Who sent you?"
The man's smile widened, his eyes glazing over. "The Iron Circle has already marked you... you're dead men walking."
With a final gurgle, the man's body went limp. Kael stood, wiping the blood from his blade. His eyes flicked to the others, who were watching with a mixture of fear and uncertainty.
"Search him," Kael ordered.
Veyron knelt beside the body, quickly rifling through the man's belongings. After a moment, he pulled out a small emblem, holding it up for Kael to see.
The insignia was simple, but unmistakable. It was the mark of one of the noble houses tied to the Iron Circle.
Kael's grip tightened on his sword. This was more than just a rogue group of soldiers, they were being actively hunted. And the Iron Circle wasn't acting alone.
As they continued their journey, the weight of the encounter hung heavy over them. The men were silent, their expressions grim. They had known from the start that they were up against powerful forces, but this... this was something else. The Iron Circle wasn't just sending soldiers, they were sending killers.
"We can't keep running," Harlan said, his voice filled with frustration. "We need to hit back."
"And get ourselves killed?" Veyron shot back. "We're not ready for a fight like that."
Kael remained quiet, his mind racing. Harlan was right, they couldn't run forever. But Veyron was also right. They weren't ready to take on the Iron Circle head-on, not without more information. Not without Kerric.
"They're not going to stop," Kael said finally, his voice low but firm. "They've marked us, and they'll keep coming."
"Then what do we do?" Harlan asked, desperation creeping into his voice.
Kael looked out over the horizon, his mind made up. "We find Kerric. If he's still alive, he'll know what to do. We regroup, and then we hit them where it hurts."
The others nodded, though doubt still lingered in their eyes. Kael didn't blame them. This wasn't the kind of fight they were used to. But they had no choice now. It was either fight or be hunted down one by one.
As the group prepared to move out, Kael's thoughts turned to Kerric. The old mercenary had always been a step ahead, always knew how to outmaneuver his enemies. If anyone could survive this, it was him.
But as they set off into the fading light, Kael couldn't shake the feeling that time was running out.