Quickness is the essence of the war

-Sun Tzu

Under the cloak of the moonless night, Mengus rode swiftly towards the camp of those responsible for the destruction of his village. The chilling wind carried tales of vengeance, and Mengus's sorrow and rage.

The steed moved swiftly through the darkness in the woods, guided by Isaak, the others followed. The campfire at the enemy's site flickered in the distance, casting a light beacon that fueled Mengus's rage.

"They didn't move for a couple of hours," Isaak spoke. "I don't know the actual number, but around 70 for sure."

"67 right there that I can see."

Isaak raised an eyebrow. "You are quick at counting, didn't know that."

"I'm actually very bad," Mengus answered. He could see from the hill the stats of the people below them, and their numbers.

"So, 50 of us against 67 of them? Is that what you're saying?"

"More, or less. We have an advantage. This will be easy." Mengus pulled out his sword.

"Shouldn't we ask them first or something if that was really them?"

"I don't think they asked any question when they raided the village and killed so many people, don't you think?"

Isaak stayed quiet.

As they neared the camp, Mengus signaled for everyone to stay behind. He dismounted the horse in the shadows and blended seamlessly with the night. He moved swiftly, eyes gleaming, filled with rage and anger.

The enemy camp lay in a clearing, tents pitched and unaware of the upcoming storm. The sleeping figures of raiders lay vulnerable, not knowing what was going to happen.

Mengus silently gathered crucial information about the layout of the camp, the placement of guards, and where their supplies were. The answer to his attack was simple, quickness, attack them while they're not ready.

With a hand gesture, Mengus signaled Isaak to release the horses at the edge of the camp. The horses, sensing their freedom, galloped away, creating chaos and diverting the attention of the raiders, who still didn't expect a thing.

In the span of a heartbeat, Mengus and his band of warriors emerged from the shadows, their swords drawn and ready to get the job done. The attack was fast, quick, and unpredictable. The clash of steel echoed through the night.

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Guards who slept were met with blades before they could even reach for their weapons. The element of surprise was a huge advantage with their speed. The raiders, disoriented and caught off guard, struggled to understand what was going on.

The camp soon became a graveyard in the making. Mengus was being swallowed whole by the fire of revenge, he showed no mercy. His heart, in pain, because of the loss of his father, the state of his mother, and the destroyed village, found peace only in destroying those who did that to him.

Mengus moved fast from one person to another, his sword danced with deadly precision, cutting off the heads of those who stood in his way. The moon peaked above the thick clouds, seeing the bloodbath it quickly disappeared again.

The chaos continued, the raiders, broken in spirit, tried to run away, but that way they just became easier targets for Mengus and his men. As the last sounds of battle died out, everything around them was in shambles. Mengus, breathing heavily, analyzed the situation. The raiders were defeated, none of them were left alive, just what he had planned.

"People talking about how revenge is not good, it will not heal you or bring the dead or whatever. They are so full of shit, I feel so much better now," he spat on the floor, "much better. I would do this again if I had the chance."

His eyes reflected the cold light of the moon that started peeking again over the clouds, bearing witness to what he had just done, the justice he had delivered.

"You were right Mengus, they were not prepared at all. We lost only 8 men." Isaak approached, he looked a little concerned.

Mengus nodded, "Give our men a proper burial, and burn these fuckers."

"Okay..."

"Revenge might not heal wounds, but it sure as hell feels like justice."

Isaak agreed, "No one else will suffer from them like you did."

"We just have to find the rest of them."

"There is no one else left, as you can see."

"The villagers said there were 100 of them, it is a huge difference in numbers, I don't think they would make a mistake like that."

"They were under attack in all that chaos you really think they could count them all out?"

Mengus narrowed his eyebrows. "I hope you're right, I really do."

"And at the same time I don't."

The moon continued its journey across the night sky, casting a cold light on the battlefield. The village will never be the same, the scars of the raid will always be there marked on the skins of the people that survived, but he had ensured that the perpetrators would never harm another soul ever again.

With a final glance at the silent camp, Mengus turned away, leaving the screams in his head buried there, behind.

* * *

While Mengus was on his quest for vengeance, the other side of the moon watched how back in the village, Lysa couldn't shake off the worry that gnawed at her since Mengus left on that damn horse. Her heart ached for Mengus, and anxiety swallowed her as she kept worrying about what might be happening there.

The night seemed to last forever. Lysa paced back and forth in the raided village, the air carried the scent of burnt wood and despair.

Lysa's mind drifted to Mengus's mother, who lay in pain in the medical tent where Aena worked tirelessly to tend to the wounded. She did her best to help the people who were injured and by pure luck survived the raid. As time passed, they found more people injured, stabbed, or buried in the remains of their houses.

As she gazed at the stars above, Lysa whispered a silent prayer for Mengus's safety, asking the old gods for him to return back safe, that the battlefield hadn't claimed him as yet another casualty. She never prayed for anything or anyone.

"I must be going crazy, praying...Me..." She thought as she stood there in the midst of the ruins, where ashes whispered tales of pain and sorrow.

image [https://i.imgur.com/lPABcnW.jpeg]