Chapter 17: Makin

Thousands of soldiers and hundreds of horsemen fled from the battlefield as fast as they could without looking back.

Among them were Rohan and his guards who were heading towards the forest in front of which they had camped the night before. Most of the soldiers had the same idea, they just wanted to put as much distance as possible between them and this hell behind them.

As Rohan and his group approached the forest and decided to go around it on the left, a hissing sound was heard in the sky.

Rohan turned his head to the noise on his left. Someone not far from him screamed with all his voice.

"Arrows !!"

A gigantic rain of arrows had appeared from the horizon and fell to the ground, mashing the lives of the soldiers in the process.

Rohan was defending himself with his shield as he could but he couldn't protect his horse. This one fell under the amount of arrows as it's neighing of agony echoed with the other horses around Rohan.

He jumped off the back of his horse before this one crushed his leg in the ground. And at the same time, the captain yelled at his group as they defended themselves as much as possible with their shields, unable to protect their mount.

"In the forest, we abandon the horses, forward!"

As they entered the forest to get as deep as possible inside, Rohan turned just in time to see an army appearing in the distance as horns sounded signaling their arrival and freezing the blood of the already routed soldiers. .

"Faster, run with all your might!"

The captain and Rohan could have run faster and left the common soldiers to their own spells, but behind them was an approaching cavalry. It was better to stay together to defend themselves a minimum.

They continued to run, tapping on their last reserves as the sounds of the horsemen chasing them grew closer and closer, when suddenly a chasm appeared in front of them. The deep fissure was almost tens meters large and was extending out of the sight of the group.

Below them, about ten meters down, a river was flowing at an impressive speed, digging in the damp and mossy rock.

"A warrior might be able to survive the fall, young master, but normal soldiers won't."

"I guess we have no choice then."

With that, Rohan turned and drew his sword to face the enemies who were getting closer and closer.

"Master Rohan."

Rohan, surprised by these words, turned to the captain. The latter approached and put his hand on the shoulder that he no longer considered this young man as the son of his master, but as his own master.

"For almost five years now, you have been training with us each morning. I have seen you growing stronger and stronger each day, until that day you beated me in a duel. I was shocked, and maybe even a bit frustrated. But I was also very happy. Since that day," He put more and more strength in his grip as he continued. "I have decided."

The noise of the enemy cavalry was becoming more and more clear.

"I will sacrifice my life for you if I have to, Master Rohan."

Their silhouettes could be seen through the trees as they approached the group.

"Because not only did I swear it to your father, but it is also my oath to you today."

But the captain didn't care about the enemies.

"I, the rank 3 Beginner Warrior Makin, I swear loyalty to you and from that day on,"

His eyes were locked on Rohan as his expression was more serious than ever.

"My life is for your life."

And with these words, he did what any servant would never do to their master.

He pushed him into the void.

Rohan, with a stunned expression on his face, fell back towards the river a few dozen meters below him, his eyes looking at Makin who was turning around while drawing his sword.

The last thing he could hear were the orders Makin, his first servant, was giving to the soldiers before launching a charge against the enemies.

Then nothing, just a huge shock. He felt his back hit a ground as hard as rock, to suddenly feel that ground turned to mud and then enveloped him, swallowing his whole body.

At that moment, a crushing current swept him away and swung him like rubbish in the direction of his choice.

Rohan couldn't do anything but try to keep his head above the water, while trying not to wash his lungs with the splash of water and foam all around him.

After several minutes, other problems appeared: rocks, rocks were on the way to the river, and more exactly on the way to Rohan.

After taking the first head full force, he did what he could to try to catch the next. But the current was too strong, he found it difficult to move himself, and each impact was more violent than the last.

Although he had tough armor and a body reinforced with mana, the blows nearly knocked him unconscious on more than one occasion. So the only thing Rohan could do was to concentrate on trying to dodge or mitigate the impacts.

His fight continued like this for a while, at which point he couldn't tell how long had passed, maybe a few minutes, or maybe well over an hour, before all of this could be stopped.

It was stranded on a bank, a simple patch of grass surrounded by trees that only let in a few rays of sunlight.

He had lost his sword in the river, along with his helmet and shield. His purple band was tight in his hand while his black hair under his head was scattered all over the place.

He was lying on his back, breathing heavily, his gaze lost in the treetops leaning over him as if they were laughing at his fate.

He raised his hand in the air and fixed his gaze on the ribbon.

He now had nothing. Just a warped armor on him that was dripping with water. A soaked bag with a dozen potions in the currently unknown state as well as a book which has been broken down into crumbs inside, and maybe some pieces of bread.

And this ribbon. A simple long piece of purple fabrics, which could possibly be found anywhere.

He pushed the thoughts out of his head and stood up. Staying here doing nothing was no way out, and something had to be done.

He walked for a while, dripping with water, in a direction he had chosen at random. Then suddenly it shattered. Everything.

He hit the large tree opposite him. Once. Twice. Again and again. He let his rage flare up in broad daylight as his hands crashed against the trunk.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!"

His voice echoed in the forest, scaring away a few birds and echoed a little further away.

He leaned back against the tree as if it were his old friend, before sliding down to sit on the floor, legs outstretched and head against the trunk, staring into space.

Endless sadness and pain could be seen in his once childish eyes.

He thought about what had happened until that day. The departure for the war. The walk, long and boring. The first battle, his first battle, bloody and filthy. The second battle, just as horrific as the first, nothing having changed. And the last battle, simply a trap.

The appearance of the white haired warrior surrounded by devouring flame came to Rohan's mind. One man. That was all it took to wipe out years of preparations. How many were dead this very morning? He couldn't tell. He thought back to the arrows and the army that had appeared in their backs.

The king had planned everything, he had chosen to sacrifice two cities in order to exterminate all these rebels.

He thought back to his father who had let him flee. To Makin, his first servant, who had pushed him to save him.

Although the former had never really been there for him, he was still his father. He remembered that during his birthday, when he looked moved as he handed him his sword and ribbon. Unfortunately, this sword now rested at the bottom of a river.

The second, meanwhile, had trained Rohan since he was ten years old, and even before that. When he was young and he had decided to go and live on his own in the Riveras estate rather than stay in the family estate, Makin somehow became his personal guard.

And now there he is, with nothing, in the middle of a forest.

He had to leave the kingdom, he had no choice. He certainly wasn't important, and he didn't put himself on a pedestal thinking his life was in danger.

But he was the son of a nobleman who had participated in a rebellion and who had taken up arms against the king. That's why he had no doubt that he would be wanted, like all the other nobles who managed to flee like him. If only for the image of the king, they will all be wanted until the end.

Oddly at this point, the image of a pale warrior bending down to vomit entered his head. What was his name again? Had he managed to escape?

He thought about his brother and his mother. What would happen to these two? Would they be executed? Or forgiven? Maybe they will simply lose the title of nobility and be banished from the kingdom.

And Jonas? Rohan was hoping that at least he could get out of it. In fact, deep down, he probably prayed more for Jonah than for the rest of his family.

Anyway, there was nothing he could do right now. He had nothing, he was weak, and the moment he shows himself, he will be hunted down. So although he wanted to heed his father's words, his family will have to wait and only rely on them even for a while.

Rohan stood up. It was time to really go this time around. He pulled his long black hair back, and tied it with the purple ribbon he held in his hand.

He chose a direction he thought was towards the nearest kingdom, Darsida, and, still dripping with water, began his journey.