But, eventually, the warplanes disappeared into the night, and all that remained was a blanket of stars across the sky. The ground beneath us was quiet, and all we could hear were our own footsteps as we trudged forward towards our destination.
As we continued our march, I couldn't help but think about the pilots and their tragic end. The sight of their burning bodies as the plane crashed to the ground had been burned into my mind, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't shake it away.
The landscape around us was filled with destruction, the silent reminders of battles fought that made my heart ache for the fallen. We passed by craters in the ground where bombs had decimated farms and ruined buildings that still held echoes of screams.
Every step felt heavier than the last as we marched through this war-torn land, yet no one spoke a word. We all seemed to be lost in our own thoughts, haunted by memories of those who were taken from us too soon.
Eventually, we arrived at what seemed to be a bombed forest. Where once there would have been lush green foliage, now stood only a few lonesome trees between deep bomb craters. These craters had filled with water over time, forming murky ponds that reflected the starlight above us. It was an eerie sight to behold; although life seemed to have given up on this place long ago, it still retained its beauty in spite of everything.
We continued our trek through the forest, cautiously watching for any signs of danger. As we rounded a bend in the path, I saw something that made my heart skip a beat: a distant flame burning on the horizon.
Our Officer barked orders, our group of twenty start to spread Karbine guns in hand , and combat ready we marched towards the flames.
The wind howled, followed by a chilling breeze, sending a shiver down my spine. I could hear the mud squelching under my feet.
We marched on, the sound of our tread was steady as we stepped through.
We were prepared for anything, as we got closer to the source of the light, all we could see was a single crashed plane.
The flames were slowly dying out, and the wreckage was smoldering in the darkness. It was clear that this plane had gone down earlier in the day, but it was impossible to tell which side it had been on. As we approached the crash site, we could see the twisted metal of the plane and the remnants of the pilot's cockpit.
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The officer motioned for us to spread out and search the area for any survivors or clues as to what had caused the crash. I was about to accompany the other soldiers, but the officer signed me to stay with him. The air was thick with the smell of burned fuel and metal, making it difficult to breathe. My heart was racing, and I could feel my palms getting sweaty once again.
The officer moved closer to the wreckage, his eyes scanning for any sign of movement. I followed closely behind him, my grip on my Grimoire tightening with every step; I didn't even notice myself putting my hand on it. The wind had died down now, and all we could hear was the sound of our own breathing and the crackling of the fire.
As we drew nearer, I could see something glinting in the light of the fire. The officer gestured for me to stay back as he approached the object. I saw him bend down and pick it up, holding it up for me to see. It was the Raven ripping out a heart, an Insignia of the enemy side.
The officer stood up and waved us back, warning us that we were not alone. I peered into the darkness, every shadow seeming like an enemy. Arthur stopped in his tracks and pointed at the ground. There, amidst the mud and debris, were two footprints from a pair of boots.
We formed a tense circle around the prints, our weapons at the ready. Moonlight glinted off of polished rifle barrels. I slowly pulled out my Grimoare while the officer ordered us to stay alert for any sign of movement in the darkness. As we stood guard, an oppressive stillness settled over us, and time seemed to pass by without end. With no indication of where the mysterious figure had gone, the footprints leading nowhere, it felt like we'd be stuck there forever.
Arthur's body tenses next to mine, his brown hair wild as he frantically scanned the tree line above us, searching for something. His eyes suddenly widened in alarm, and I followed his gaze to see a man in a brown uniform crouching in one of the trees with a small handgun pointed directly at us. The man was in his mid-thirties; perhaps it was hard to tell in the deep darkness of the forest, and he blended into the bark of the tree, virtually invisible until we made eye contact.
Panic was as evident in his eyes as in ours, but he recovered quicker. A Flash of light disturbed the night as his handgun fired first.
Blood sprayed on me, and I heard Arthur screaming. Shocked, I don't react, I froze up like a statue. The sound of gunfire echoed through the night as our squad returned fire. And I remaine still unmoving.
But then something inside me snapped. The shock of seeing another comrade fall to the ground, covered in blood, shook me out of my trance. Without a second thought, I raise my grimoire in my left hand, right hand aimed directly at the man in the tree. Time slows down as the world turns surreal.
In the Air around me appear etheral strings encompassing and flowing through the fabric of the world. Where these strings meet, they entangle, forming knots. Those are the focus of my attention. With my right hand, I move in a pattern all too familiar to me, pulling and detangling these knots with a sliver of my own mana, like my master has shown me. The slightest mistake, I know, will cause unforseen consequences. No time for something complicated, I think to myself, Releasing the stored up kinetic energy in these knots towards the man in the trees. He seems to have hidden behind the trunk covering from our return fire, bullets ripping his cover to shreds. It doesn't matter, as I release a wave of force towards him.
The impact of my spell was immediate. It hit the man with a force that sent him tumbling from the tree, his gun flying out of his hand and landing with a thud on the forest floor. He hit the ground hard. Not moving.