Where were the others? Old Iron Hammer couldn't remember.
Before him, only the image of his four-year-old son appeared, with the sound of his son's laughter echoing in his ears.
That little rascal, now trapped with his mother in the supply camp.
If not for the sudden war...
He might have been carrying his little rascal on his back, trekking through the rugged mountains to gather rare ores.
Such things had been happening ever since his son was two years old.
Sometimes it was early spring, and they would walk along steep cliffs, where he would teach his son to collect herbs from crevices still covered with thin ice.
Other times, it was autumn, and they wandered among mountains filled with wildflowers and fruits. His son began to recognize the many species of the world, from the golden sunflowers, the reddish-brown bloodgrass, the icy blue moonlight flowers, to the ghost thistle, whose spines could paralyze a person for half a day.
Other times, it was daytime, and the mountain cats would peek out from the valleys, eyeing the strange duo, missing the wild rabbits that hopped by. Above, hawks spread their wings, soaring in the sky and casting ominous shadows on the cliff faces.
And sometimes, it was nighttime, with a bright moon and a windless, silent gorge, where the only sounds were their long, echoing footsteps.
But now, his little rascal must be in his mother's arms, eyes wide with fear, searching for his father.
Suppressing his growing anxiety, Old Iron Hammer's eyes burned with fury as the warriors of the Forest Alliance charged forward.
"Forward camp—!" he shouted, his eyes wide with fury.
"Chief!" came the response, a wave of voices in return.
"Follow me, charge—!"
"Ha!"
"Damn beasts!" Old Iron Hammer roared with all his might. "Flank guards! Stay with the chief!" Shouts rang out from his companions. Iron Hammer's muscles bulged, veins nearly bursting from his skin as his body surged with power. "Frenzied... Slash!" His sword's runes flared, and the blade whirled with a fury, cutting through the enemy before him.
"Charge! Keep charging!" The forward camp tore through the beast waves like his sword cutting through the air. Old Iron Hammer led the charge, flanked by his brothers. The enemy beasts were struck down, pierced, cleaved, and trampled underfoot. Old Iron Hammer saw one beast fall, its sharp teeth still embedded in a horse's stomach, causing the war steed to kick and struggle in pain. Hammers crushed the beasts' skulls, and the wounded horses cried out. The wind and snow howled as steel clashed with flesh and bone in a chaotic storm.
A moment of weakness struck him, a side effect of the frenzy slash he had just unleashed. "Don't stop! Keep guarding forward!" he yelled frantically, his voice almost breaking. He bit his tongue to push through the pain, and the sharp sting brought his body's strength to the surface again.
"Father! Father!" His son's voice rang in his ears, as if calling out to him from just ahead, waiting for him.
He stumbled forward, his sword no longer able to slash but thrusting in desperate jabs, pushing through the melee. An axe struck his shoulder, failing to penetrate due to his shoulder armor.
"Ah... damn it..." He swung the sword's hilt backward, smashing it into the foe in front of him.
Clang... clang...
Clang... clang...
Amid the chaos, the bitter cold had turned into a blood-red haze. The dark red sky and earth, the silhouettes of figures, all were caught in a bloodlust, tearing at their hearts.
A heavy hammer struck his head.
His vision went dark, and he collapsed onto the ground.
Boom, boom—boom, boom—boom, boom—
"You bunch of weaklings, how did you end up in the forward camp?" The voice of the leader of the Warriors' Legion was firm and commanding.
It felt like the first day he had joined the forward camp.
"Shout the oath with me!"
"I am a warrior of the High Mountain Legion, an iron guard of Uru God Mountain, a red rock of the Limal Plateau!"
"I will heed the call of courage, follow the light to the death, fear nothing, and never betray!"
"I will uphold the thousand-year-old covenant of this land, guarding the countless lives with my life!"
"I will forever honor the warrior's glory, living for this land and dying for it!"
Boom, boom—boom, boom—boom, boom—
"My lord! If we keep wasting time, the whole legion will be wiped out!"
"Don't think just because you're the leader of the forward camp you can boss us around, war is no child's game!"
"Our people are surrounded! This is no game!"
"Once you're on the battlefield, you must be prepared to die! Those lowborns, if they die, then so be it…"
"My lord, don't forget that you too once swore the warrior's oath!"
"I see you're tired of living—"
Boom, boom—boom, boom—boom, boom—
"Chief, I'll go with you!"
"Chief, we're all going!"
"You've all made up your minds... this is a journey to certain death, and you still want to defy orders..."
"Chief, it's all the same whether we live or die. Maybe if we try, we might survive!"
"Let's trade our lives for the lives of our people!"
"Yes! Trade our lives for theirs!"
Boom, boom—boom, boom—boom, boom—
"Father! Father—"
"Little rascal! Where are you?"
"I'm so scared... Father!"
"Don't be afraid, Father's coming—"
Boom, boom—boom, boom—boom, boom—
He opened his eyes.
His head was almost buried in the frozen mud. His body was frozen, and he could barely feel anything. His throat produced raspy sounds as ice water rushed into his mouth. The violent coughing tore through his chest, and the pain sparked a full-body ache, waking up the numbness in his limbs.
"Ha—ha—" He cried out in agony, the intense pain spreading from his head to his limbs and throughout his entire body. With all his strength, he crawled shakily out of the mud. Ice fell from his face, shoulders, and joints, while the surrounding area was barren and desolate, with bodies scattered everywhere.
The brothers of the forward camp, the beasts of the Forest Alliance, all dead, dead, dead—all of them dead.
His stomach burned with an insatiable fire, scorching through his limbs and body. The intense pain and burning sensation almost made him pass out. He knew it was just an illusion—if he didn't find something to eat soon, he would die from hunger and cold.
He turned over the body of one of the fallen, its stiff form revealing empty eyes, rotted and filled with dark mud. He fumbled through the corpse's chest, extracting some cold rations, swallowing them down with the muddy water. He searched through more bodies, collecting more provisions, stuffing them into his pack, and then stumbling forward, uncertain of his direction.
One step... two steps... three steps...
A thousand steps... two thousand steps... three thousand steps...
Ten thousand steps... twenty thousand steps... thirty thousand steps...
He didn't know how far he had walked, nor how many days or nights had passed. All he knew was that the path was filled with mud, the battlefield was littered with bodies—High Mountain, Forest Alliance—further ahead... the corpses of the Forest Alliance grew more abundant.
This was good news. Only if the legion broke through or the reinforcements from the Highlands arrived could so many enemies have died.
Finally, he reached a familiar battlefield, one that had been surrounded and fought over for months.
There was no sign of the legions, neither the High Mountain Legion nor the Forest Alliance.
The High Mountain Legion must have broken through.
Their infiltration tactics had succeeded.
The forward camp brothers were all dead, but they had forcibly torn open a gap, giving the High Mountain Legion a way out.
He smiled, but the smile soon froze on his face.
Among the scattered bodies, he saw two familiar figures—one large, one small...