Chapter 73: The Vanguard’s March
The march continued, the sound of boots in snow growing louder as they moved forward, each step carrying them closer to what awaited. The soldiers moved in silence, the only sound the crunch of the snow beneath their feet and the creak of leather armor. There was no need for words, no rallying cries. The weight of the coming battle was heavy enough without the need for further words.
Leon rode at the front, his gaze fixed on the trail ahead. His horse moved with a steady rhythm, the path winding between jagged rocks and bare trees that looked like broken skeletons reaching for the sky. The land was barren, stripped of all life, just as they had been—stripped of everything they once were. But they were still moving forward. One foot in front of the other. One battle after the next.
Behind him, Elena followed in silence, her presence a quiet reassurance. He didn’t need to look back to know she was there. They had walked this path together before. They had fought side by side. He wasn’t alone in this. Not yet.
The sharp crack of a branch breaking underfoot caught his attention. He didn’t react—he had already heard it. Naeve had returned.
The scout came into view, her horse moving swiftly through the snow, her eyes sharp, but there was a flicker of something else in them. Urgency. Fear. Leon’s hand tightened on the reins, his jaw setting.
Naeve didn’t waste time. She was out of breath, but her words were clear. "The enemy’s pulling back from Vaelen. They’re setting up a new line further east. They’ll be ready in a few hours."
Leon’s eyes narrowed, his thoughts immediately falling into place. "Then we have a chance," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "We’ll hit them before they can regroup. Get the vanguard ready to move."
Naeve gave a sharp nod before slipping back into the formation. The tension in the air was palpable now, a pressure that could only be relieved by the clash of steel. The enemy had underestimated them once, and now they would pay for it.
Leon took a deep breath, his thoughts narrowing. They had no time to waste. There was no room for mistakes.
The landscape began to shift as they rode forward. The ground became more uneven, the path steeper, leading them closer to the site where the battle would begin. The eastern winds picked up, biting at their skin, but Leon didn’t flinch. He had long since learned to endure the discomfort.
He looked over to Elena, the calm still present in her gaze, even as the weight of what was to come settled between them. She didn’t speak, but her presence was enough. They had already made their choices. Now, there was no turning back.