Under the ocean of shining stars, the black currents of blood flowing over the grass were clearly reflected in the eye, while the bodies of the beasts scattered around.
Sairon slowly approached the beast in front of him, his breathing harsh beneath the weight of his black armor. It was the first time in his life that he saw something like this: its face was long with protruding fangs and a massive body, easily weighing hundreds of kilograms. This type was common in these plains.
Its name was "Krithor."
"Lord Sairon, you're awake!" One of the wardens approached Sairon quietly. It was Mark, the one who had shot the arrow at the beast near Sairon.
From his voice, he seemed younger than the others.
"We apologize, we wanted to finish this quietly, but the men got a little too excited." Mark touched his head in apology.
"Why didn't you set scouts around our perimeter? They could have dealt with them quietly," Sairon scolded the warden in a low but sharp voice, trying not to show his fear.
Although he felt some guilt for his reaction, his life had been at risk in that moment.
"This..." Mark bowed his head and seemed about to say something.
"Lord Sairon, don't blame the boy. We already sent three scouts around the camp, but they disappeared?!" A massive man approached Sairon, cutting off their conversation.
This was the leader of the wardens, Barbon.
"Disappeared? How is that possible?" Sairon was shocked by this news.
The wardens were the second strongest unit in the clan, each one trained in everything. One warden could easily match three or four well-trained guards, and now Barbon was saying that three of them had disappeared.
"Didn't you find any trace in the area they explored?" After asking this, Sairon realized it was a foolish question.
Barbon shook his head without providing an answer.
"Another thing, we'll hold a meeting about what to do from now on, and your opinion matters." Without adding any further details, Barbon returned to the rest of the wardens with Mark.
Despite Barbon's few words, Sairon understood the situation well, and now the strength of the knight was needed.
From Sairon's memories, Krithor beasts usually lived in massive groups, and what they had seen now was just a small wandering group.
To be more precise, the scouts meant that the main force was close by, and with the sudden disappearance of three wardens, it meant a much stronger enemy was in the area.
Sairon inhaled deeply, feeling that the situation was very bad. This was his first journey, and now his life was in danger. He didn't even know how to fight properly.
His mentality was from a more advanced age, not from medieval times or wars.
Sairon approached the group of wardens, and he could feel the tense atmosphere. The group made way for him and showed him some respect.
They were waiting for him to speak, but he remained silent. Then Barbon moved to the center of the group and spoke firmly, "Everyone knows the current situation, so I won't prolong things. There are three options for this problem. First, we can return to the clan and report the situation. Second, we continue our journey and face the Krithor swarms and the hidden enemy."
Barbon paused for a moment, then looked at Sairon and the silent wardens. "The third option is that we go to the city of 'Redm,' gather some information there, and then proceed to our destination from there. Since the situation is urgent, the commander of the march will make the decisions from now on."
Barbon nodded his head towards Sairon, causing everyone to turn towards him.
Sairon was shocked by Barbon's last words. His words were true, but Sairon wasn't the leader—he was just an ordinary student, but he couldn't say that.
Sairon tried to take a serious stance, moving a little forward and speaking calmly, "Our situation is quite normal. I can feel it. Perhaps if we all unite, we can cross the flood of beasts coming our way. But how many people will we lose in the process? We don't even know what happened to our brothers. We don't know if it was humans or beasts who killed them, but I'm sure it was powerful. With this, I suggest we go to the city of Redm."
His words were nothing but empty, spoken only to express his own fear and concern for his own safety, without truly caring for the others.
The group agreed with Sairon's suggestion, not because he was the leader, but because his decision made logical sense. Returning to the clan meant failing the mission and facing punishment. Continuing on the same path was pure stupidity, as they would be surrounded by the massive numbers of Krithors. The most sensible choice was to go to Redm.
Under the dark cloak of night, the group silently packed their belongings, listening intently to the surrounding sounds with hearts filled with dread. Every passing minute brought the beasts closer to them.
If there were only a few dozen, they wouldn't be in this situation, but now their numbers had doubled.
Luckily, the horses were unharmed, still strong and ready to go. Sairon mounted his white horse, his muscles tense and his breath slightly shallow. They set off towards the distant city of Redm, six hours away, fraught with danger.
The horses galloped madly, their hooves striking the ground with power, leaving behind a cloud of swirling dust under the dim moonlight. They continued at this pace until the first rays of dawn began to streak across the sky, illuminating Sairon's face filled with anxiety.
Then, without warning, a horrifying sound split the air, like the moans of death.
"Ughhh… ughhh…" Hearts leapt in fear, and their bodies trembled, feeling a cold prickling sensation, as if small blades were crawling up their necks. Sairon turned quickly, his eyes burning with the intensity of danger, and saw a thick cloud of dust rising behind them.
The horses were whipped fiercely, racing against time—either death or life.
The sound of the beasts grew louder, causing the horses to panic, throwing two of the wardens off their backs.
"Anyone who wants to die can go back and help them," Barbon said sharply and spurred his horse forward.
The wardens turned, their breaths quickening, as the two fallen men stood at the heart of the storm, like statues made of stone.
No scream!
No cry for help!
No look of blame towards anyone!
It was as if time had abandoned them, and they simply accepted their fate in deep silence.
The two stood, their backs turned to the group, slowly drawing their swords as they gazed at the incoming beasts.
The wardens' swords gleamed in the silence, they removed their helmets and threw them behind, continuing their path in silence that shook the heart.
This was the utmost respect, reserved only for heroes.
"Hey, Ronin, did I ever tell you I wanted to be one of those heroes who are remembered in the stories?"
"You never told me your dreams, but I'm currently witnessing the birth of a hero," Maron smiled.
"Yeah, but will anyone ever remember this heroic tale?"
The two turned to each other at the same time and laughed...
The sound of horse hooves echoed across the grassy lands everywhere, but with each passing second, their pace slowed, their strength having worn thin a while ago. Yet the sharp sense of death approaching urged them to run.
The beasts drew closer, and the horses finally collapsed, panting heavily on the ground.
The wardens stood in a deadly silence, pulling their swords without a sound. This wasn't the first time they had faced death.
Barbon spoke loudly as he raised his sword in the air, "Let's kill these pests!" His voice now filled with emotion. "Let's hang their heads on the city walls so the world knows we passed through here!"
Yes!
Yes!
Yes!
The wardens echoed the words loudly, not just as empty words but from their pride and honor.
"Either we die as men, or we die on this path. A man who lacks the courage to die does not deserve to live," Barbon's cries grew louder with each second the beasts drew closer.
The wardens stood tall, not just because of Barbon's words but because they were with a knight, and the strength of knights was incomparable to mere humans like them.
More importantly, they believed in themselves. Relying on others in a life-or-death situation only hastened death.
Sairon didn't know the wardens' thoughts, but he was sure of one thing: if he didn't fight now, he would die.
A sharp sound pierced the air from behind. Sairon grabbed his sword and drew it from its sheath, his eyes glowing in silence, which made the rest of the wardens turn to him, increasing their excitement.
Either death or life.