Marcus was wonder incarnate. They were surrounded by darkness and mud, but suddenly out of thin air, there was light. The flaming heat at the tip of the stick fought fiercely with the drops of water falling from the starry sky. Despite the wind and rain abusing the flames, it showed no sign of extinguishing. The commander had trained this technique well enough in battle as an elemental warrior. Normally he lit his own blazing blade to defeat his enemies. But even in peacetime, it had become a useful tool in the past few weeks while encamped near the border. As long as he kept the energy from his fingertips flowing to the object he held, the flames would continue to glow and emanate the heat necessary to light the muddy path in front of him.

"Oh my god that was amazing sir, thank you so much!" Genuinely complimented Marcus.

This was the first time that he had witnessed elemental magic being practiced so close to his eyes. Ordinary soldiers like him generally did not have much contact with Elemental Warriors. And although anyone could theoretically awaken their nucleus, it would take too much time and effort for most who were not able to afford the pilgrimage.

Normally speaking, denizens of low birth rarely had the chance to educate themselves in the practice of the elemental way. Given the same amount of time and resources, it was more beneficial for the nations to train a hundred spearman than a single elemental warrior who may not even breakthrough past Disciple for combat.

In the army, the act of approaching superiors was frowned upon. One of the biggest breaches of conduct happened when a soldier decided to discuss matters with warriors above his level. It was to be expected that blessed warriors would have more important matters to attend to rather than waste time talking about unimportant topics with lowly subordinates.

The commander ignored completely the praise from Marcus, not a single smirk on his face.

“I’ll accompany you to the sawmill. But don’t get the wrong ideas, it is to make sure you do your job properly private.”

Said the commander as he carried the torch he had made in a few seconds. Marcus hated that commander with all his strength. Power had gone to his head after the Divine War, and according to his peers he was like this with every common soldier. Nevertheless, everyone continued to treat him with respect for all the contributions he had made and continued to as an elemental warrior.

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The army did not seem to care about the personality of his superiors. As long as the man was strong enough, he was able to lead ordinary soldiers like Marcus in battle. In a way the system worked, except when he was forced to interact with Hubert, a pain in the ass for a man who constantly abused him verbally.

Taking a deep breath once more, Marcus thought to himself.

Hold it in man, it's just for a little while then he’ll go back to his chancery

Entering the sawmill, Marcus looked around searching the place. Resting on a table, in the corner of the room was an ax.

"What are you waiting for private?"

“Sir you don’t want to do it instead of me? Just to make sure I don’t screw up, of course. ”

“Are you mentally impaired private? All you have to do is chop the wood into smaller pieces. I struggle to find a way on how you can get such a menial task done in the wrong way. When you earn your promotion you’ll be able to order people to do the dirty work for you too. Now get to work private. ”

"Yes sir!" Grabbing the ax from above the table, Marcus dutifully obeyed his instructions.

With a dirty hand on the ax handle, the surface was not rough enough for him to feel safe. The fear of making a second mistake in front of the commander was greater than being judged for using both hands to deal with the small ax.

"Rah!"

Holding the handle tightly, he slammed the blade down to a large piece of wood that resided on the board. The blade was sharp and promptly cut the ax into two pieces in just one ax swing.

And he would be lying if he hadn't been imagining things he shouldn't have while working hard. He felt that that kind of thinking helped him do his job more effectively. As long as his face could be imagined on that piece of firewood, he would not fail to cut.

The cabin they were in momentarily was not very large, but it had enough space for Marcus to have a moment's peace.

Rubbing the glass window that was completely covered with steam with the back of his hand was Hubert. Far enough away from his subordinate not to spill filthy dirt on his decorated uniform, but close enough to keep an eye on him if he dared to disobey his orders.

He raised his eyebrows after regaining his eyesight. Something out of the ordinary quickly caught the commander's attention. And it was in the same direction as he could hear the laughter and loud conversation. There was an empty red, gold-adorned carriage motionless sitting by his soldiers' outpost. Carriages were common in the four corners of Elba, they were often owned by someone rich, powerful, or both. However, Hubbert was almost sure—The carriage wasn’t there a couple of minutes ago.

In its front post, where there should have been animals - most of the time horses or mules - it was completely empty. And the lack of a coachman only made things weirder. Furthermore, the conversation from within the outpost had strangely ceased.

And the silence of his comrades made him suspect that something was not quite right.