"Quiet!" In the dark night, the soldiers of the Ninth Legion set up their camps. After a day of laborious marching, the noise before bedtime spread to every corner, until Constanz's loud voice overwhelmed the noise, echoing in everyone's ears, "Shh... listen carefully, what do you hear?"
Hundreds of soldiers fell silent, took off their helmets, and listened to the wailing of the wandering resentful spirits among the snow-covered conifers. That distant and deep roar was like a war drum and also like distant thunder.
"That's the roar of Anganar Volcano. Waiting for us at the source of the roar is the Third Legion of the Immortals, led by the formidable General Seraphina," said Constanz, throwing dry firewood into the campfire. He rested one hand on his bent knee, while the other leg, covered in armor, stretched out in a relaxed posture, just like the boy who used to wander with a band of thieves. "And they are the only enemy on this land that we haven't conquered yet... but soon they won't be. " His pause for emphasis elicited laughter from the crowd, but his next words silenced them.
"Indeed, we will eventually win. But beware, fools who underestimate the enemy! Death is hovering over your head." He thrust his damaged, blood-stained sword into the fire, waiting for it to heat up. Meanwhile, he lifted his pale blue gaze and surveyed the tense faces illuminated by the firelight.
"They say they have lost their humanity. You will be fighting a pack of monsters." He lowered his gaze, using a pair of pliers to stir the wood. "And the journey ahead, full of fire and monsters, will make the icy wasteland behind you seem like a pleasant hike. Many of you will fall on the barren slopes of the volcano, your flesh burned to ashes and your bones swallowed by lava. I understand your fear, and I understand that some of you have decided to retreat... but not empty-handed."
He pulled out his hot, red sword from the fire and examined the damaged edges on both sides of the blade, speaking casually as if to himself:
"'Why should I follow this old fool who's afraid to use fire? Why can't I sneak into the camp at night like I used to and cut off the head of the master?' To those who entertained such thoughts, I would say: If you want the fire, come and get it."
The dry firewood crackled, sending smoke and sparks flying. The sparks reflected off the faces of the young and old, the confident and contemplative faces, appearing and disappearing in the dim orange light.
As the messenger, the boundless darkness of the forest carried Constanz's aged voice and the roar of the Anganar Volcano towards the ears of the gathered crowd.
"The fire thieves will eventually realize that when you become the only source of light, all darkness will come towards you. You still have to fight, but it will be harder and more lonely. There will be no more singing and laughter from companions around the campfire, only the sinister owls and wolves lurking in the woods. You will face hundreds of enemies, and soon you will exhaust the stolen divine fire. To rekindle the embers, you will raid villages, kidnap virgins, and light them up, watching them writhe in pain. What enters your body is not just power, but also dirty sin. Behind your weary footsteps, angry hunters pursue you, not just those who covet the fire, but also fathers who have lost daughters and young men who have lost fiancées, coveting your life."
In a corner belonging to the servants and laborers, Capillata sat with her knees hugged, looking far away at the commander behind the wall of people. And on top of the burlap bag behind his blond hair, Vasili was originally lying on his back, with both hands behind his head. But now, he was nowhere to be seen.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
"If you fight alone, there is only one path to death. If you desert the battle, it is also a dead end. Therefore, I need everyone to unite with me for the last time, like our ancestor Avus and his companions, with brave hearts intertwined and straight swords overlapped. This will be a battle that will block out the sky, but when the horn of victory sounds, I will create a round table for those who still stand in the dawn. With the sword in our hands, we will pass on the divine fire to the swords that meet, and distribute positions on the round table based on merit and character. The brave warriors will finally enjoy the glory of the divine fire and remember the value of peace..."
Constanz raised his sword, looking at every pair of eyes through the reflection on the blade.
"Those who forgot will walk towards destruction."
As soon as he finished speaking, a grim-looking head fell beside the campfire, causing everyone to exclaim in surprise. They looked up and saw a black shadow dropping the head. It had a pale arm and a lean leg hanging outside of its cloak, with slight burn marks on them. Its face was partially covered, showing ghostly skin and curly hair like a wild wolf, with blue traces of ghost fire trailing from its eyes.
The fearful gnashing of teeth and murmurs of hatred spread among the soldiers. "Disband." Constanz announced, squinting his left eye, lightly biting the thick tip of his tongue, and using his sharp pliers to smooth out the damage on the sword blade. Everyone dispersed, but the noise did not return; the war cloud had already spread in people's hearts and seeped into their dreams with the piercing cold wind.
Constanz put down his sword, walked towards the skull, pulled up the hair, and examined the dislocated jaw. "Given your emphasis on military discipline, if you want a piece of the action, we can talk." He was not referring to the gold tooth but the stolen divine fire contained in the traitor's mouth.
"Taking the dragon's treasure is not a wise move," Vasili, lying on a tree branch, sneered, showing no interest in his gray-blue eyes, even a bit contemptuous. "After all, it is a cunning creature."
"Anganas! My Sword of Fate!" Constanz exclaimed, carefully looking at the divine fire fragment taken from the skull. "You must have been with the dragon for a long time to know its habits so well." He crushed the fragment with his fingertips, and a warm current immediately filled his old body, making his gray hair shine brightly. He opened his eyes and said sincerely, "But seriously, what do you want? As long as I can do it, I can help you achieve it."
Vasili turned his eyes. "Really?" From the pretended exclamation, one could hear the naive echo of a child, but upon closer listening, that innocence was so sophisticated, as if most of his life had been spent trying to please others. However, Constanz, who was equally shrewd, was not fooled by his words.
"Then I want what's around your neck." The boy's tone suddenly turned cold and cruel, revealing the frosty heart of a warrior. He pointed to Constanz' neck - there was no pendant hanging on it.
"Of course," Constanz stretched his neck, using his hand to feel the chill on a layer of skin, "but not now, Anganas. Our agreement is that I will accept your challenge when you have collected all the divine fire."
The figure on the tree squinted with ghostly blue eyes, letting go of his fingers that were like white wax branches. " Just making sure you're the real deal."
"I remember, but the real deal? You're overthinking it. In the face of complete divine fire, there can only be one outcome." Constanz lifted the iron cup he had been heating over the campfire, brought it close to his lips, but didn't drink from it. Instead, he asked thoughtfully, "Even so, you still crave a battle with me?"
There was no response from the tree. So Constanz cleared his throat and continued, looking at the campfire in front of him:
"Is a world unified under divine fire not worth living in for you? Or is it that you can find a place to settle in today's world, but such a place wouldn't exist under the rule of the fire?"
A gust of cold wind made the fire flicker, and Constanz looked up. He realized that he couldn't see the figure on the tree anymore. He smiled slightly and used the remaining water to extinguish the campfire. He shouted into the darkness around him:
"Rest well, Anganas. I'll need every ounce of your strength soon." The second half of his sentence was muttered to himself, "For your ideals, and for mine."