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The journey back to Danustica felt more subdued than I’d expected. Despite the honour we had earned at the tournament, my mind was preoccupied with the task ahead. The Embers of Flame were no ordinary band of outlaws. They were a fanatical group, and their very existence threatened the stability of the villages under our protection. The tournament had been a spectacle—a momentary escape. But now, reality demanded my focus.

The travel was quiet, the clatter of hooves and the creak of the cartwheels the only sounds accompanying us. The sun hung low in the sky, painting the rolling fields with hues of amber and gold. Nathanos rode beside me, his siblings trailing in the cart behind, their laughter carrying faintly on the breeze.

As we neared Danustica, the atmosphere shifted. Soldiers straightened in their saddles, and the banter faded. The city came into view, its sturdy walls a testament to its importance as a trade hub. Inside, the streets bustled with activity—children darting between stalls, and citizens haggling over goods. But beneath the surface, there was tension, a collective unease that hung in the air.

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During our time in Onira, and even before that in Danustica, we had pieced together a significant amount of intelligence about the Embers of Flame. Once a powerful and feared religious sect, they were now a shadow of their former selves. The Western Empire’s operation last year had shattered its strength, killing many of its members, including its charismatic leader. But even with their diminished numbers, the Embers clung to their cause with a desperate fervour.

The fallout from the Western Empire’s operation was as much a curse as a reprieve. The Embers weren’t destroyed; they were fractured, left teetering on the edge of oblivion. Leadership disputes had erupted in the wake of their leader’s death, pitting his two sons against each other in a bitter struggle for control. The elder son, fiercely devout and uncompromising, claimed he was the true inheritor of their father’s divine mission. The younger, Ignum, had a more practical approach, blending zealotry with pragmatism. Their feud culminated in open conflict, weakening their group further. When Ignum emerged victorious, his elder brother fled, taking with him a handful of loyalists.

Despite their internal strife, the Embers of Flame remained dangerous. Their twisted ideology had outlived their leader, and their brutality continued to plague the isolated villages within their reach. Their modus operandi was well-documented and disturbingly effective. They relied on small raiding parties, typically composed of 10 to 15 men, to loot supplies and abduct children. These raids were surgical and efficient, aimed at instilling fear and asserting dominance. Resistance was met with overwhelming force, as reinforcements were quickly dispatched to crush the opposition.

Reports suggested that their numbers had dwindled to around 35, a fraction of their former strength. Yet, those who remained were hardened by the fires of survival. The veterans among them were men who had endured the Empire’s purge and the internecine war between the brothers. Though their ranks had been bolstered by new recruits, these were mostly untrained zealots—young men and women who had been lured in by promises of divine purpose and salvation.

It was this combination of fanaticism and desperation that made the Embers a formidable threat. A cornered beast is often the most dangerous, and the Embers of Flame had nowhere left to run. They were a dying ember, but one capable of reigniting if left unchecked.

With this knowledge, we knew that our mission wouldn’t be as simple as extinguishing a flame. It was a fight against an ideology, a belief system that had rooted itself deeply in the minds of its followers. Victory would require more than just swords and strategy—it would demand precision, resolve, and an unwavering commitment to see the mission through.

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Despite their diminished numbers, their desperation made them unpredictable. A cornered beast is often the most dangerous, and I couldn’t afford to underestimate them.

Once we arrived in Danustica, I immediately got to work. The recruits and veterans stationed here during our absence had been maintaining a watchful presence, but they needed direction. First, I conducted a thorough inspection of our forces. The recruits were eager but green, their inexperience evident in their stances and the way they carried their weapons. The veterans, by contrast, had the air of men who had seen countless battles—scarred but steady.

“Sora, Leon,” I called out, gesturing for them to join me. They approached quickly, their expressions attentive.

“Our veterans have proven themselves time and again, especially during our campaigns in the Western Empire and Aserai,” I said. “It’s time we ensured their equipment matches their skill. I want you both to procure better gear for them—armour, shields, weapons, whatever they need. No compromises.”

Leon grinned. “You won’t be disappointed, Augustus. We’ll get them outfitted with the best Danustica has to offer.”

Sora nodded, her eyes gleaming with determination. “Consider it done.”

Their loyalty and efficiency have always been invaluable to me. As they left to fulfil their task, I turned my attention back to the recruits. Their inexperience concerned me, but that was something training would address.

It was decided that the group resting in Danustica would begin their march to the village of Phyca on foot. This served two purposes: it allowed them to prove their endurance and discipline, and it demonstrated that those who excelled in their duties received tangible benefits. Meanwhile, those of us who had travelled to the tournament would rest for a day before following on horseback. This staggered approach ensured the entire group would reunite by the following evening.

The recruits, eager to prove themselves, accepted their orders without complaint. Their enthusiasm was a good sign, though I knew it would wane after the first few miles of hard marching. As they departed, I observed their progress, making mental notes about which individuals showed promise and which ones needed more guidance.

The next morning, after a much-needed rest, we began our journey. Nathanos and I led the way, mounted on sturdy warhorses. Behind us, a cart carried Nathanos’s younger siblings, who had stayed with us during the tournament. Silvana rode in the cart with them, her presence a source of comfort for the children.

The siblings seemed to adore her, and she had taken on the role of a protective older sister with ease. Their laughter mingled with Silvana’s gentle teasing, created a warm atmosphere that contrasted sharply with the grim purpose of our journey.

I glanced over at Nathanos as we rode. His expression was stoic, but there was a softness in his eyes when he glanced back at the cart. The bond he shared with his siblings was unshakable, and I knew that protecting them was his greatest priority.

“You’re good with them,” I said, breaking the silence.

He looked at me, raising an eyebrow. “Who? The recruits?”

“No,” I said with a faint smile. “Your siblings. They idolize you, you know.”

His expression softened further, and he chuckled. “They’re good kids. Stronger than they should have to be at their age.”

“And they’re lucky to have you,” I added.

He didn’t respond, but the slight incline of his head told me he appreciated the sentiment.

The road to Phyca was a well-trodden path, winding through rolling hills and patches of dense forest. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of pine and earth. As we rode, I found myself reflecting on the challenges ahead.

The Embers of Flame was a threat not just to Phyca but to the stability of the entire region. Eliminating them would send a message—a reminder that groups like theirs would not be tolerated. But more than that, it was personal. For Nathanos, for his siblings, and for the countless families who had suffered at their hands.

By evening, we would be reunited with the rest of our group, and the true test of our mettle would begin. Until then, we rode in relative silence, each of us lost in our thoughts.