Ruins of Daruksham
Erebus had led the southern campaign deep into the desolate reaches of Achaemenid, pushing into what was once the thriving city of Daruksham. Once famed as a nexus of trade and exotic spices, the city now lay in ruins—crumbled walls, charred stone, and the eerie silence of a place erased by catastrophe. It was said that the Dabbah's footprints had been sighted here—or perhaps they were the very architects of its ruin.
The sun bore down with a sweltering intensity. Though the borderlands of Amanécer and Kemet were nearby, any hope of relief seemed distant. It had been four days without signs of life, and with every step, the challenge of resupplying grew heavier. But according to Canute, Amanécer's barrier lay ahead, nestled among the seven verdant hills that separated the human realm from the divine.
"General, we've marched without pause for days. Our rations are low, the pegasi are restless, and the men are beyond fatigue. Let us rest here tonight," Alessio pleaded, his voice strained.
"There's no time," Erebus replied coldly. "We move until we reach the hills."
Alessio sighed in frustration. Erebus turned a deaf ear to all protests, unmoved and relentless.
What drives him like this? Alessio wondered bitterly as he ordered the troops to keep pace.
Despite the fresh burn wounds that still throbbed beneath his armor, Erebus pressed forward with unnatural resolve. Even his beast, a hulking nightmare creature, showed signs of exhaustion—snorting and growling—but obeyed without resistance.
His men had to double his pace just to keep up.
They aimed to reach the barrier by dawn.
Suddenly, Lu Yin wheeled his steed ahead and blocked Erebus's path. The general's beast reared, letting out a sharp roar.
"What is the meaning of this, Lieutenant?" Erebus growled.
"General, I beg you—listen to your men."
"Move," Erebus warned, his voice low and laced with deadly resolve.
When Lu Yin didn't yield, Erebus drew his blade and pointed it at his throat. The lieutenant swallowed hard but stood firm.
"You may strike me down if that's what it takes. But our men are not machines. They need rest, even if only for a few hours. Grant them that mercy—we'll move again before first light."
Erebus turned his gaze toward the weary soldiers. Their hunched postures, sunken eyes, and limping gaits could no longer be ignored. If they collapsed here, the consequences could be catastrophic.
With a pained sigh, he nodded. "We leave before dawn."
Relief swept through the ranks. Tents were pitched hastily, and the camp fell into exhausted silence. Yet Erebus did not sleep. He sat in solitude, keeping watch with a goatskin flask of water at his side. His thoughts remained fixed on Luciana and their children—visions of them laughing, crying, calling his name. Their safety haunted him like a curse.
Lu Yin emerged quietly from his tent and approached.
"General," he said gently, "let me take your watch. You need rest, even if just for a short while."
"No need. It's almost time to move."
Lu Yin hesitated, then asked, "Forgive me, but... what drives you so urgently toward the barrier?"
Erebus paused. Then, to Lu Yin's surprise, he chuckled softly—something he did so rarely it was disarming.
"What would you do," Erebus asked, "if your sister were in danger?"
"I'd run to her. I'd protect her, even if it meant giving my life," Lu Yin replied without hesitation.
"You're sharp," Erebus muttered. "Too sharp."
"But aren't you from Wahrheit?" Lu Yin frowned. "Why the desperation to reach Amanécer, of all places?"
"You've already figured it out," Erebus said as he stood, drinking deeply from the flask.
Lu Yin's expression shifted. "Your wife. You mentioned her when we first met…"
Erebus nodded, solemn and silent. Luciana's memory burned vividly in his mind—her laughter, her warmth, her fury. Everything.
"I was told by someone that she's alive." He said in a low voice.
Lu Yin's eyes widened. "How in the seven heavens…?"
"I heard that," Erebus snapped before Lu Yin could finish.
"My apologies!" Lu Yin bowed deeply. "I had no right to question you."
"Let it be," Erebus muttered. "Wake the men. We move."
As Lu Yin turned to obey, his eyes caught a glimmer in the distant east.
"General! Something's approaching—three o'clock!"
Erebus turned. A faint light moved across the horizon.
"Wake the others. I'll check it out."
Before Lu Yin could stop him, Erebus was already armed and astride his beast, galloping eastward.
Messengers from Amanécer? he speculated. Canute had last been seen taking the abandoned northern route—an old trail once swallowed by Dabbah's darkness.
He drew his flintlock, keeping it close as he approached the light.
"Your Majesty, just hang in there…" a raspy voice called out through the gloom.
"Who goes there?" Erebus demanded.
"Who are you?" a red-haired man shot back.
Helios, weary and bruised, lifted his head. "Lad…"
Erebus's eyes widened. He dismounted quickly, unmasking himself. The beast followed close, its red eyes glowing ominously under the night's shroud.
Helios let out a weak laugh of relief. "I thought we were done for."
Erebus glanced at them. Helios with a missing leg and Rudolph his dominant arm. He carefully lifted him from Rudolph's support and hoisted him onto his beast. The creature grunted at the divine aura but obeyed after Erebus stroked its muzzle and loin.
"Watch it!" Rudolph snapped. "If he falls—"
Erebus ignored him and led the beast forward. Rudolph, wary of the monstrous steed, followed cautiously.
"How are you here, lad?" Helios rasped.
"Heading to Olympus. Dabbah's changed course," Erebus replied curtly.
"What?" Rudolph's eyes flared. "Did the others follow?"
"They're sealed in the Abyss," Erebus said. "For now."
They reached the camp just as dawn's first light breached the horizon. The men stirred at the sight of Erebus returning with injured comrades.
"Give them treatment," he ordered.
Lu Yin blinked. "General, these men…?"
"Didn't you hear me?" Erebus snapped.
"At once!" Lu Yin barked, and the others scrambled to provide food and care, even from their meager stores.
Helios and Rudolph were tended swiftly and loaded into a wagon. Erebus mounted his beast once more.
With the first rays of sun gleaming across the ruined cityscape, the army resumed its march toward the barrier—toward the divine realm and whatever peril lay beyond it.