214 CHAPTER 214

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CHAPTER 214

295 AC

POV THIRD PERSON

The journey from Moat Cailin to Moondrift unfolded along a well-constructed road, a testament to Aermir's meticulous planning and commitment to infrastructure development throughout his domain. These roads not only facilitated the swift movement of troops but also enhanced the efficiency of trade within his territories. As Aermir, accompanied by fellow nobles and their formidable army of 2000 soldiers, embarked on this expedition, they traversed the landscape with ease.

The path found its way through dense woodlands and occasionally led them to glistening streams, where sturdy bridges had been thoughtfully erected, simplifying their passage. The journey, while covering challenging terrain, was significantly expedited by the existence of these thoroughfares. Over the course of two days, they pressed onward, their destination looming ever closer on the horizon: Moondrift.

Moondrift lay approximately 200 kilometers from Moat Cailin, and the journey, undertaken by Aermir and his escort along with their 2000-man army, spanned close to two days. His ships were set ablaze just beyond the Pepple, a considerable 650 kilometers away from Moondrift, just at the mouth of the Bite. Traveling at a steady pace of 15 to 25 kilometers per hour, the Sistermen required nearly two days to close the gap and reach Moondrift. This provided ample time for the Paladins and knights to bolster the town's defenses.

…

Far off in the distance, the Sistermen and their ships plowed through the turbulent waters of the Bite. It was a grueling voyage, with the ever-present threat of storms casting a shadow over their journey, a stark reminder of the treacherous nature of the sea. Fortune favored Aermir, as well. Under ideal circumstances, with favorable winds and light cargo, Sistermen ships could reach speeds of up to 20 kilometers per hour. However, while maintaining fleet formations in their current conditions, their speed was reduced to a maximum of 10 kilometers per hour. 

Aermir couldn't contain his satisfaction as he observed the Sistermen's progress through the eyes of Erebus. Their journey was fraught with delays due to the unfavorable winds and treacherous waters, providing him with invaluable extra time to bolster the town's defenses. The timely arrival of the third contingent of their forces swelled their numbers to a formidable 6,000, although they remained significantly outnumbered by the Sistermen, whose ranks had swollen to nearly 10,000. Yet, Aermir took solace in the fact that his army consisted of highly trained soldiers, knights, and paladins, whereas the Sistermen were largely comprised of cutthroats and raiders. Quality, he believed, would triumph over sheer quantity.

Aermir had unwavering confidence in his forces, even without assuming the role of the Druid. He believed that they could successfully repel the Sistermen invaders and force them into a retreat without incurring heavy casualties. In his eyes, this was a valuable opportunity for his army to gain experience and hone their skills.

The mock battles of the Paladins and Knights were a different breed altogether. These intense training sessions pushed them to their limits, far exceeding the standard drills of the standing army. Aermir's newfound abilities as a level 5 druid, particularly the Regrowth spell, allowed him to heal his warriors even if they suffered severe injuries like broken limbs during these rigorous exercises. It was a testament to his dedication to preparing his troops for any challenges they might face.

...

Jory Flint, entrusted with the important role of Knight Captain of the Drasil Knights, had journeyed with the third contingent of their forces. His new position brought with it a great honor, although he still operated under the command of Ser Harlik Greenwood, a responsibility he took on with pride. This newfound role required Jory to grow stronger and transform into a true embodiment of a Drasil knight.

Six months prior to his promotion, Aermir had issued an order for Jory to engage in intensive training alongside his fellow knights and Paladins. Deep within the Misty Forest, adjacent to the Temple, lay the training ground known as "The Forge of Drasil." Here, the iron of determination and resolve was forged into unwavering steel, and those who entered emerged as formidable warriors dedicated to the Drasil cause.

...

SIX MONTHS AGO

Amidst the lush embrace of the Misty Forest, The Forge of Drasil stirred to life each morning, cloaked in an eerie, mystical mist that seemed to merge the realm of men with that of spirits. As the first gentle rays of the sun extended their golden fingers over the horizon, here, within this crucible of unwavering discipline, the valiant Paladins and Knights embarked on their daily pilgrimage to strength and unwavering resilience.

Upon their return, a formidable challenge awaited them, testing not only their physical prowess but their mental fortitude as well. With a sense of unity that only shared hardship could forge, teams of Paladins and Knights hoisted colossal logs onto their broad shoulders. Beads of sweat rolled down furrowed brows, occasionally mingling with drops of blood, painting a vivid picture of their relentless pursuit of excellence.

Aermir's endeavor to forge a special forces training camp was rooted in his memories of mandatory military service in his previous life. Although he had never been thrust into the crucible of active combat during his time with a commando brigade, he had undergone a hellish year of training that had etched deep lines of regret into his consciousness, an experience that had left a lasting imprint of regret to choosing to be a commando. What was fascinating was because he was conscripted, he wasn't even a real commando, and he didn't want to imagine what kind of training real commandos were doing.

…

Jory Flint found himself among the ranks of the training soldiers, his previous notions of arduous training paling in comparison to the grueling regimen he now endured. As a Flint, he was no stranger to the rigors of warfare and military exercises, but this was an entirely different beast altogether. The giant log they carried as a team had left his hands and shoulders marred, their skin bearing the harsh testimony of splintered bark and relentless toil. The pain was searing, but for Jory, there was no alternative.

In this crucible of discipline, letting go was the gravest of sins, tantamount to betraying one's comrades. To release their burden was to relinquish not only the heavy load but also their honor and trust. And so, he gritted his teeth and persevered, determined to emerge from this trial with his spirit unbroken.

…

In the midst of the relentless clamor of steel upon steel, the training grounds resounded with the symphony of combat. Paladins and Knights, wholly devoted to the honing of their martial skills, engaged fervently in practice with an array of weapons. Among these, swordplay stood as a revered art, and they poured their dedication into perfecting the grace and fluidity that defined their strikes with longswords. For Jory Flint, this training was akin to finding himself in familiar waters, where his skills shone brightly.

Their training journeyed onward, delving into the realm of spears and pikes, instilling in them the intricate equilibrium between thrusting and parrying. Maces, with their emphasis on precision and impact, imparted essential lessons for close-quarters combat. And in the domain of archery, they embraced both offensive and defensive capabilities, crafting themselves into well-rounded warriors, ever-prepared for the trials of battle. 

The realm of combat training was a multifaceted journey, encompassing a diverse array of disciplines. The Paladins and Knights immersed themselves in the intricacies of one-on-one dueling, their studies delving into the realms of footwork, balance, and the swift, flawless execution of techniques. Every movement was scrutinized, and every strike honed to perfection.

Mounted combat presented an entirely different challenge, demanding the seamless transition between warfare on horseback and the unforgiving ground. The importance of teamwork echoed through their training as they practiced fighting in formation, their movements akin to a precisely choreographed dance of death.

Within this crucible of discipline and sacrifice, the training was relentless, especially when Aermir was present. It pushed them to their limits, at times resulting in broken bones and excruciating pain. Yet, in their suffering, they found strength, knowing that Aermir's healing magic could mend their injuries. It was a brutal training regimen, forging them into formidable warriors, ready to face the darkest of challenges.

…

Within the confines of the training grounds, a tent served as a crucible of intellectual pursuits, where Paladins and Knights delved deep into the art of warfare. Here, they revered intelligence as a weapon just as crucial as physical strength on the battlefield.

Amid the humble interior, tables were adorned with meticulously spread maps, and the very air crackled with passionate exchanges of tactical insights. They embarked on a journey through history, immersing themselves in the strategies of legendary commanders and scrutinizing the intricacies of ancient battles. From these pages of the past, they extracted priceless wisdom that would illuminate their path when they eventually stepped onto the battlefield as leaders of men.

This facet of training particularly resonated with Jory, whose proficiency in tactics earned him admiration among his peers. Aermir, drawing from his knowledge of Earth's military history, had crafted awe-inspiring strategies that were seamlessly integrated into their rigorous regimen.

…

Endurance tests were an unyielding trial of their mettle. They embarked on grueling, long marches that traversed unforgiving terrain, conquering obstacle courses designed to push their physical limits to the brink. Survival training was another crucible, teaching them the art of thriving in the harshest of environments.

These trials weren't merely physical; they were a testament to the fortitude of their minds and bodies, forging within them an unyielding resilience that would be their greatest asset in the battles yet to come. Jory, like the others, found himself transformed by these challenges, emerging as a warrior of indomitable spirit.

To the Paladins and Knights of Drasil courage and integrity were not mere words but guiding principles. They were expected to be the protectors of the weak, the defenders of their land, and champions of justice.

As the day neared its end, the Paladins and Knights of Drasil left the training grounds battered and bruised but unbroken. The crucible of their training was unforgiving, but it was within this forge that they were tempered into elite warriors, bound by a sacred oath to their lord to protect his land and his people with unwavering loyalty and courage. The world might not yet know their names, but their deeds would echo through the annals of history.