Theo, fueled by a newfound determination, gathers his remaining forces and sets out towards Liconda, determined to intercept the advancing Imperial forces and halt their march towards the capital. The winter landscape is unforgiving, with snow-covered fields and icy winds biting at their faces. The remnants of Castle Rostomia weigh heavy on Theo's heart, but he knows that the fate of Vistralia hangs in the balance.

As they march through the cold, Theo reflects on the words of his uncle, Count Damien, and the guidance he received before the ill-fated battle at Cumeria. The lessons learned from the battlefield, the sacrifices made, and the heavy toll of leadership have etched themselves into his soul.

Despite the bleak situation, Baron Sancho remains a steadfast companion by Theo's side. The bond forged through the trials of war grows stronger as they share the burden of command and the responsibility for the fate of their homeland.

Arriving at the outskirts of Liconda, Theo surveys the landscape. The once bustling town now lies in an eerie silence, its inhabitants likely fleeing the impending conflict. The City burned and razed, corpses lie on the street, blood painting the walls a crimson red.

Theo spots an opportunity to drive the enemy back and slow their advance on the capitol. In an organized manoeuvre, he ordered his men forward and launched an attack while their enemy was vulnerable. You see, the enemy force was spread out, still taking all the loot they could find. The sound of hooves and marching men echo the city streets. They crash into the enemy lines, slowly pushing them back. Victory was in his grasp, he could feel it with every swing of his sword.

And there someone stood, a single man, bearing a greatsword larger than the wielder. a strange purple aura radiating off it. Wearing armor that seemed to be woven around him. a steel closed helm covering his head. while he did not wear a surcoat, Theo could feel it that even without one, he was clearly a powerful man, every step this enemy took sent shivers down Theo's spine.

"Are you the emperor?" Theo cried with confidence

"Nein, I am but his General, Count Damon of Stolzburg."

"I'll take this one my lord." said one of his knights. Ser Edgar Baritone was one of the most decorated men in his retinue. He won countless tournaments and was considered a fine warrior. He pulled out his sword and began to duel the mysterious man. As they fought, it was clear Ser Edgar was no match for this man. The man's sword, despite being extremely large moved faster than any blade Theo had ever seen. The fight barely lasted a minute before Ser Edgar was hit in the head by the sword. Even though Ser Edgar was wearing the finest helmet in the land, the sword cut off his head like it was butter. His armour had little to no effect as waves of blood gushed from the stump of a neck. One of the greatest warriors of Visturga couldn't even last a minute against this man.

The other knights were in complete and utter shock at the sight of Edgar's death. Then, the man looked at Theo and charged at him. "SIR!!" Sancho ran in the way, trying to block the man's attack, to little success, the man's blade glided through Sancho's own before slicing Sancho in two, one of the most decorated men in the army had just been killed easily, his refined iron sword cut without issue.

Theo realised that he was no match for this man, he had to order a retreat, but his own men and allies continuously rushed at the man, all being turned into a pile of blood and organs akin to that of a slaughterhouse. But then, a single man grabbed Theo, a random squire it seemed.

"My lord, you must escape, lest this man end you too"

"But I must avenge Sanch-"

Theo couldn't even finish his sentence before he would be shoved onto a horse and sent barreling away, looking behind him, he saw the squire get cut down by the man.

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“Dammit, I couldn’t even do anything” Theo lamented at at his pathetic self. “All of them, Uncle, Sancho, all my men, they all died for nothing, I ran away like a coward, I didn’t even try to fight.”

“What am I even good for, I couldn’t even win my first battle properly, I fell in front of my own men, like a fool.” Theo slowly rode in the as the sunset, on the last night of winter, the season of death, all his men fell.

The next day, the snow stopped, it seemed winter was over. This would usually be good, as it signaled the coming of spring. However, he knew that this would also mean that the empire would soon be able to muster larger armies, without having to worry about attrition or the lack of supplies. This also meant that he would have to face them in the field more often, as his forces would no longer be able to hide in the plains surrounding Vistralia.

The generals of the empire were cunning and talented, and their armies were formidable. He had been protected from them by the snow, but now the weather would not stop their troops from moving forward.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

He was aware that he would need to get ready for their arrival. In order to be prepared to combat them when they arrived, he would need to mobilize his forces and arrange them strategically. He was aware that he would have an advantage, though. He would be up against both numerical and material superiority in his forces.

He mounted his horse and swung his legs into the saddle. He could feel the wind in his hair as the horse galloped across the plains, its hooves digging deep into the ground. This was the fastest way to get to the nearest village of Wimnor, which was located on the far side of the plains.

He could feel the wind rushing past him, cutting through his clothes and whipping at his hair. The horse's hooves thundered against the earth, shaking the ground and sending small rocks flying into the air. The speed of the horse's gallop was exhilarating, and there was a sense of freedom in being able to move so quickly.

As he neared the village of Wimnor, he could see a group of riders waiting on the outskirts. The men were decked in heavy armor and held large spears that glinted in the sunlight.

One of the men saw him. “By the Twelve! It’s the grand duke’s son!” Quickly, we must help him! The men quickly surrounded him, helping him down from the horse and guiding him towards one of the buildings. The village was small but well organized, with many people gathered on the streets and moving around quickly.

The people in the village noticed the group, and many of them seemed surprised to see him. Some of the elders come forward and greeted him with respect, bowing deeply.

They led him to a small room at the back of the temple and closed the door behind them. The room was simple but comfortable, with a wide bed, a desk with a candle on it, and a set of shelving filled with books.

Theo's body was exhausted, and he could hardly move. As he sank into the soft mattress of the bed, he could feel himself drifting off. His eyes closed and his breathing slowed. The light from the candle softened the shadows in the room, making it a peaceful place to rest.

As his body finally gave in to exhaustion, his mind began to drift away. The sounds around him faded until everything was silent. The darkness slowly engulfed his vision as he slipped deeper into the world of sleep.

Soon, he found himself in a wide-open field. The air was fresh and cool, and the sun was shining brightly. He felt free and alive, as though he could run forever without getting tired. He smiled to himself as he felt his exhaustion slip away. He could feel himself getting sleepy again, this time in a good way.

In the distance, he could see the castle he grew up in, away from court. His father never really cared for him and kept him and his mother in a far away castle, so they couldn’t mess with his nights of partying, and cheating. Even without a father, he was content with everything. He had his friends, who would soon join his retinue. They played together, sparred, practiced archery, horseback, and befriended the citizens.

As he was enjoying his moment of bliss, he noticed something unusual. In the distance, there was a figure standing in the middle of the field. It was impossible to make out who it was, but it seemed to be calling out to him. “Boy! Come here! We have unfinished business!” There was something off with the figure, but curiosity got the better of him.

As he walked closer, he saw the man was holding something. It looked like a stick at first but he realized it was a sword. Theo, still thinking it was a guard, moved closer. He saw the sword was extremely massive. It was larger than the wielder. The sword suddenly had an aura that glowed purple. “Looks familiar? Well why don’t I try to jog your memory eh?”

Theo looked around frantically, trying to find a way to escape the man and the memory that he was forced to relive. His lifelong friends, with whom he had played in this field, lay dead and broken on the ground, cut down in an instant.

As Theo realized that he could not fight the man, he turned and ran as fast as he could. The man's voice echoed in his head, taunting him as he fled. Theo ran faster than he ever before, trying to outrun the memory that he was forced to relive. He ran till his legs were ready to give out, and his lungs were straining for oxygen. He was desperate to escape the memory that kept haunting him.

Theo tripped, and fell into the mud. He quickly got up only to find the field was gone. He saw Vistralia in flames, the citizens killed and massacred. Imperial forces destroy the legendary walls built by Grand Duke Asger II. He saw the maids be raped, and assaulted, he saw the soldiers killed and their wives taken as slaves. He saw his father’s head on a pike, and in the flames, he saw his mother stabbed and beheaded.

Theo was horrified by the scene he saw before him. He felt sickened by the brutality and the destruction that he witnessed. The pain and the suffering were palpable, and the stench of blood and death was overwhelming. His heart broke for his people, his mind filled with sorrow and anger.

When he saw his mother killed, he felt an overwhelming feeling of rage and hatred. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to see the imperials crushed under the heel of his people's vengeance. He vowed to choke the emperor to death with his own hands and make the empire suffer for this.

Suddenly, he arrived back in the field with the man still chasing after him. “There’s no changing fate boy! You were a fool for challenging us!” The man quickly caught up to him and slashed his blade ready to kill him. Then, Theo woke up.

Theo was drenched in sweat and breathing heavily as he woke up from the horrible nightmare. He was disoriented and afraid, and he could still feel the man's cruel glare and the sharp pain of the sword's blow. He was overwhelmed with a sense of fear and confusion.

As the terror and pain of the nightmare began to fade away, Theo felt a surge of emotion welling up inside him. Instead of feeling relieved, he felt angry. The pain and the suffering that he witnessed in the dream filled him with a deep sense of rage. He felt a burning hatred towards the Empire, towards the man who chased him, and towards anyone who was responsible for the death and destruction of his people.

Theo's anger continued to swell, and he felt like he had been awakened from a trance. His mind was clear now, and he knew exactly what he needed to do. With a renewed sense of purpose and determination, he sat up in bed. He needed to prepare himself and his people to face the empire, to fight back against the oppression and the cruelty. He needed to make his enemy pay for the suffering and the pain that they had inflicted upon his people.

With the sudden rush of adrenaline and clarity of purpose, Theo felt a surge of energy flowing through his body. He jumped out of bed and quickly began to dress himself in his armor. He quickly grabbed his weapon and made his way out of the room.

War is coming, and blood will flow.