The gray dusk sky shrouded the western side of The Wall, painting a somber and melancholic scene as Alcard pressed on with his journey. His black horse tread carefully along the rugged path, where shattered stones from the crumbling fortification lay scattered. Each step upon the weathered ruins served as a stark reminder of a bygone era of glory, now reduced to mere remnants. A cold wind blew through the air, carrying dust from the ruins, adding to the mournful atmosphere that seemed to grieve the loss of what once was.
Ahead of him stretched a massive breach in The Wall, a gaping wound in what was once an unbreakable defense. Large stones lay strewn across the area, forming an open passage that led straight into the vast, foreboding lands of the south. Through the opening, a fierce wind howled, carrying with it an unfamiliar scent tinged with the faint stench of blood—an ominous sign of something unnatural lurking beyond.
Alcard narrowed his eyes at the breach before dismounting with practiced caution. His gaze immediately caught fresh tracks imprinted in the muddy ground around the ruins. They were large, oddly shaped, and most concerning of all—they were recent. He crouched, studying the impressions carefully, assessing the size and age of the creature that had passed through.
"Could just be an ordinary monster," he murmured under his breath, though uncertainty tinged his voice. "Or something far worse."
Taking a deep breath, he tilted his head upward, his gaze lingering on the remnants of The Wall's former grandeur. From afar, its towering structure still stood firm, but up close, every inch bore the marks of decay. Most of the outposts scattered along the fortification were in disrepair—leaning, brittle, some entirely collapsed, their wooden frameworks rotting away with time.
"This wall was once the final bastion between Middle Earth and destruction," he thought bitterly. "Now, it's nothing more than an aging relic, crumbling into silence."
His expression darkened as his thoughts drifted to the rulers of Middle Earth—the 68 Lords, locked in endless disputes, more concerned with their own ambitions than the real threat brewing in the south. Ever since the fall of the Hamongrad Empire, they had been trapped in a cycle of power struggles—seizing lands, amassing wealth, and expanding their political influence. Meanwhile, the villages along The Wall, left defenseless, had become easy prey for the ever-encroaching monstrosities.
"They chase after fleeting power," Alcard muttered grimly, "while the horrors of the south only wait for the right moment to consume them."
He gave his horse a gentle pat on the neck, as if to shake off the frustration gnawing at him. The beast let out a soft snort before continuing through the scattered ruins. Along the way, Alcard saw remnants of past battles—silent testaments of desperate struggles. Broken support beams, discarded rope coils buried in the mud, deep claw marks slashed into the walls. All evidence of the Outcasts' tireless fight with whatever little they had.
"Hundreds of thousands of kilometers of The Wall," he muttered bitterly, "and only a handful of us remain to guard it. We fight with scraps, while the Lords cower behind their opulent castles."
The night wind carried with it a distant sound, faint yet unnatural. Alcard halted his horse, his entire body tensing. He strained his hearing, trying to discern the source. It could have been nothing more than a wild animal—but in a place like this, every sound carried the weight of potential danger.
Wasting no time, he spurred his horse forward, galloping away from the ruins. His thoughts were now singularly focused—reaching the Central Headquarters. He had to report everything he had seen. The worsening damage, the dwindling supplies and manpower, and most importantly, the growing threat beyond the wall. The Outcasts could not hold out much longer on their own.
Before disappearing over the crest of a small hill, he cast one last glance at the gaping breach in The Wall—a wound carved into the body of an aging warrior, a silent reminder of what would come should the world continue to ignore this last line of defense.
In the distance, the sky darkened, as if foreshadowing the grim future approaching ever closer.
Alcard pressed onward.
The battle was far from over—this was only the beginning of a war yet to come.
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