"Sight your damned targets!"

The Battle-Master's voice rung out clear in the night, cutting through the growls that emanated from the darkness.

Sar raised his crossbow, just like the rest of the men, peering through its sights to settle on one of the myriad eyes glimmering in the gloom. His magic was too dangerous to be used in these close confines, more likely to wipe his company than his foes. So, he was reduced to mundane weapons.

How humiliating.

"Fire!" The Battle-Master shouted.

Two hundred triggers clicked, and two hundred bolts whistled out to sink into chimera flesh, sounding like the shriek of some infernal ghost.

The howls that responded were deafening.

"Second row, aim!" The Battle-Master's voice bellowed out once again.

Sar dropped to one knee, reloading his crossbow as the men standing behind him stood to aim theirs. The manoeuvre was so practised, so deeply drilled into him, he barely had to think about it, the deep voice of the Battle-Master bringing him right back to his days as an initiate.

"Fire!"

Another hail of bolts lashed out into the night, pushing back the chimera horde.

The numbers that had surrounded them were… worrying. Travelling in such numbers was always going to risk attracting the attention of the chimeras, the sheer number of living beings congregated in one place an irresistible target for the monsters. It was even worse here, in the backwoods of the empire.

The place was infested.

The company must have strayed too close to a dungeon in their trek north, though it wasn't like they had much choice. The cumbersome Ironjaws and wagons containing their supplies that they had in tow limited them to only the most open of routes. Despite the swiftness with which the Peoplecarriers travelled, they couldn’t bring them the entire route into such untamed lands, and it had taken months of painstaking walking from their drop-off point to bring them to here. Such distances wouldn’t ever be fully safe.

A hideous creature burst out of the treeline, a demonic hybrid of snake and boar, its neck grotesquely elongated and weaving from side to side. It charged the shield wall around the encampment, slamming its body against the metal in its fury.

Immediately, two soldiers sprung forward, striking out with their spears to skewer the beast. It bellowed and fell back, blood gushing out around the impaling weapons to pool beneath it.

"First row, aim!"

Sar stood and pointed his crossbow into the darkness once again.

It was going to be a long night.

—

"Thirteen deaths. Thirteen! To mere chimeras!"

The Battle-Master slammed his hand onto the table, glowering down at its wooden surface.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Sar had to agree with his frustration.

"Indeed, why are your men so poorly trained?"

"My men are- You-" The Battle-Master spluttered. "You brought us to this deathtrap!"

"You knew the dangers of coming this far into wild lands." Sar snarled. "I was told you were the best, or were you simply just what was available."

The Battle-Master glared back at him, but said nothing. He knew just as well as Sar did that the words struck far too close for comfort. A campaign such as this was certainly not a priority for the Empire, and as such the Empire did not assign its best.

It was honestly a miracle that they'd managed to requisition a trio of Ironjaws.

“Look, we don’t have a choice with our route here. Unless you want to activate an Ironjaw and waste its mana on mere trees, we have to follow the main roads. Which means dealing with whatever threats happen to be situated nearby.” Sar said, quenching his temper.

It would not serve his purposes to antagonize the Battle-Master too much, the man was the leader of the battalion that had been assigned to him. No matter how abrasive he was, the man was a master of the arts of battle, hence his title.

And he was going to use every last bit of that skill to crush the upstart mage that had forced him into this humiliating position.

Sar continued. “Five days will see us pass Avonford, where we can bolster our forces at the Seeker enclave stationed there. They should have investigated the disappearance of my own enclave and should have leads on the hiding place of the free mage.”

Or at least they would have, if they were doing their jobs properly. Though, it wasn’t a given with the research obsessed eccentrics that manned that particular place.

“We should also encounter far fewer chimeras the closer to the city we get. The road north of it, as well, I know to be safe. I personally have run caravans along it many a time without issue.”

“Fine.” The Battle-Master grunted.

—

“It seems your plans once again have not born fruit.” The Battle-Master grunted, staring critically over the chaos erupting throughout the city.

Sar had to agree with him.

He certainly hadn’t expected to arrive in Avonford to find the Seeker enclave there to be wiped out to a man. It was… strange, like the men within had gone mad and attacked one another, tearing each other apart with sword and tooth and nail.

“M-my lords, Avonford has no k-knowledge of what occurred here, you have my word.” The simpering official that had guided them through the city stammered.

Sar was tempted to incinerate him on the spot, if nothing else but to assuage his anger. He hated this land, hated its people. Primitive, loathsome. They had attacked the Seekers, harmed their betters. For that crime, if nothing else, they deserved death.

But he restrained himself. His first priority was to bring justice to the free mage who had harmed him. And to that end he’d need to utilize every bit of knowledge he could wring from the people here.

After that task was done, however? He’d return and put this place to the torch.

“Where is the necromancer.” Sar growled.

“N-necromancer?”

“The free mage, where is he. He must be operating around here.”

“I don’t know anything about a free mage, my lord, you have my word.”

“How about undead, skeletons. Have there been any sightings?”

“I’m not sure what you mean by sightings, but Srinaber apparently has many skeletons, from what I’ve heard.” The man said.

“Srinaber, where is that?”

“T-the new city, to the north? Apparently, they’re building in the ruins.”

That immediately grabbed Sar’s attention. Isabella had been investigating ruins to the north when she’d disappeared. The same Isabella that had aided the necromancer in his attack on Sar. That, along with the fact that these ruins now held a city apparently full of undead, was too much of a coincidence to ignore.

“Battle-Master, we march north. That is where the free mage is hiding.”

The man nodded and started barking orders to his battalion, prepping them to move.

Sar smiled a grim smile, dismissing the official. A mere two weeks, at their current pace, and they’d reach their target. Which meant that soon, he’d find that mage once more. Soon, he’d get his revenge. The man had no idea, but his doom was fast approaching.

Sar was coming for him.