"Our plan is simple, then. One final review," Winters said to everyone. "We run this mission as a group. Civilians stay in the middle protected by everyone. Zan, you will be by my side at the front and help me with co-planning. This is your idea, after all. Jiehong and Whiskey. I need reliable folk protecting our rear. You up for the job? My loyalists need someone to egg them on and I think two rebellious young shots like you can provide this relief. We run straight for the city. We don't stop to engage and wipe out automotron groups we might come across. We don't launch a counterattack if attacked. We flee."

"We can do that," Jiehong said. "Though please be aware, sir. I am not a rebel myself."

"Understood, Jiehong, young sir. I did not know since you spend a lot of time with Whiskey when she is here. Apologies."

Zan then said, "Shall I just ride with you then, sir?"

"Excuse me?" Winters said, confused.

"You said I would need to ride with Whiskey or one of your riders. If I am to consult, I should be at the front, on your horse, so as to allow Whiskey the back position with Jiehong."

"Oh. Yes. I did say that, didn't I? Apologies, Zan. In my old age, I forget what I say. Yes. Ride with me," Winters replied frankly.

Not knowing what to think about his senior commander admitting to memory lapses, or if he was even seriously at all, Zan still felt safe with Winters. It was a hectic situation. Everyone was entitled to a memory lapse or three. Four lapses were where people got concerned. So, until the fourth came, Zan would not interview his premonitions. Gripping Winters tight, Zan said a prayer for their safety.

"To ride!" Winters said, urging his horse into action.

"Echo beetles, activate," Zan said, several tiny devices breaking away from his headset to go to Jiehong and Whiskey in the back.

Behind them, the other riders took off to their rear, directing the civilians to stay in the protected center of the group. Ahead, was the first large tower.

Before they even arrived at the tower, alas, trouble boiled.

While urging their steeds forward, a once supple earth turned into red and black muck. Horses stumbled and progress slowed. "What is this crap?" Zan asked.

"It's a byproduct. Supposedly. That tower, Zan? It was built long ago by a civilization we are lucky to know existed. We don't know the original purpose of why the ancient society built these towers, but through many decades of research, the fine folk over in the Sunstar Principality managed to re-activate these buildings. Before Sunstar, these towers were just strange and inaccessible mysteries dotting the landscape. Now, they form a transportation network Sunstar uses to bolster their economy. Although this trade is a boon for both Sunstar and the local economy, usage of the towers generates this nasty, muddy byproduct. This 'crap' as you call it. We have to push on and find dry land. Prolonged contact with the 'crap' will strip a man of his skin if left dried on too long."

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Wider than every devil upon every rock, Zan's eyes shot open in shock.

"Poor horse," Zan uttered, feeling contemptable for the situation.

"Don't fret, Zan. Water takes care of it nicely. You'll see. Onward! Come, steed! Let's go!" Winters urged his mount.

Winters drove his four-legged companion hard. Neighing abounded then multiplied as dozens of riders encountered the same muck. Winters asked Zan to take out his old shouting horn, hooked to his backup bedding rollup, and to use to to shout encouragement to the men while they bravely fought their way through the skin-eating mud.

Unlatching the horn, Zan readied to speak into it, but stopped as he took his first big breath. He did not know what to say. Thinking it over, he took another breath. Then took the plunge. "Never give up!" Zan shouted to the crowd. "I mean it! Never give up! Remember your pride as Kingship soldiers! Flesh-eating mud is NOTHING compared to your iron wills. Think of the common man! Is he here with us, stalking tower goo? NO! He is back home, reaping the benefits of your service! Strive on now and forever!"

On and on Zan went as the men thrashed their way through the swamp. It took over an hour, Zan counted, to make their way to drier and less muck-ridden ground. "Pour water! Get it off!" Zan shouted into the horn, informing every rider of how to remove the deadly corruption from their skin.

Snatching the horn from Zan, Winters shouted into it, "We have no time to sit and clean ourselves like cats! Clean and ride! We can't afford idle moments! Clean and ride!"

Winters returned the horn to Zan. Following his mater's commands, Zan dumped what little water he had left over his skin. Some of the muck was caked in and dried enough where water did not fully remove it. Winters said, however, "we will find a river later and everyone can clean themselves to their hearts content. We can't stop now."

"You guys alright?" Zan asked. "Be on the lookout for a river. Or pond. We need everyone to get clean."

"Understood, Zan. And we're doing fine. Not much got on us since we were at the back. We went around those in the deepest part of the muck. You got it full and center though, right?"

"Yeah. We did. I am fine, though. You guys doing okay energy-wise? I could use some quality rest. I'm so tired..."

"We're doing fine. We haven't had as intense of a day or two as you've been having. Keep up. Then we're have a supple rest when we're safe."

Logging off from the check-in with his party, Zan could have looked at his HUD's 'Team Status' informational box. Zan remembered how the Screen Master said the graphics and display of the headset was not reflective of a true, deeper reality. It only approximated reality. So, Zan had the grace of mind to simply call his friends using the echo-beetles.

Thinking back to Winters and his pace, Zan knew why Winters was so eager to reach the city. He couldn't be too hard with the man. He was eager to reach said city because it was a major trading post, of course. The noble they had saved would be happy to reward the colonel with a hefty tip for his safe passage in a timely manner. Even Zan, country bumpkin, knew this. It was why Whiskey was battling alongside them. Money. Compensation.

Yet Zan was not so jaded as to believe Winters didn't have his overriding sense of honor. That and the knowledge of how once they arrived in the city, no more struggling by themselves. They could struggle with more people, with walls and cannons, and really bring it to the enemy. In their current state, Zan knew how little they were apt to 'bring' to the enemy.

Free of the muck and feeling only a slight unpleasant itch, Zan, and Winters, trod onto ground which became increasingly more stable the closer they came to the first tower.