Infiltration

The remaining Legionnaires stood, mouths gaping, eyes wide. Their lieutenant's body lay in a bloody mess on the ground before them. Their faces were hidden behind helmets, but the Traveler could still see the panic in their eyes.

Most of the surviving Legionaries dropped their weapons and started running, but a few held their ground, determined to fight. They prepared for one final attack, charging their magic. Their minds were set on an offensive.

The Traveler stepped back, not far, but enough to give himself room. He raised his staff and used it as a focus, as he channeled his magic into an all-encompassing barrier, surrounding himself in a protective bubble similar to the Soul Shield; much stronger than what he had used before to deflect the spears and arrows. He could easily deflect any attack, but that would not be his approach.

He looked at the remaining soldiers, and then at the retreating Legionnaires, a dark expression on his face. As they stood in a circle around him, his eyes glowed red. Then, he spoke.

"This ends now."

He let out a scream of pain at gathering so much magic energy despite his weakened state, one hand on the barrier, one hand on his staff. He shouted at the soldiers, and as he did, red sparks began appearing around the barrier, crackling like electricity, the air inside the barrier was thick with energy. Then, at a whisper, he said a word, and the red sparks began to form a ring along the edge of the barrier, all the way around.

Within the barrier, the air was thick with magical energy, like a lightning strike was just about to happen.

"Now, you die."

The Traveler's voice was cold, and it carried with it an overwhelming energy, one that caused the Legionnaires to instinctively take a step back in fear as they stared at each other. He raised the staff again, and the red sparks circling the barrier began to rise, swirling like a vortex of intense energy.

All was silent for a brief moment. Then, the Traveler shouted, and a flash of lightning shot forth from his staff, blasting through a Legionnaire who was brave enough to rush in an attempt to strike the Traveler.

The man was burned to ashes as the lieutenant had been before. The other Legionnaires screamed and turned to run, but they were already too late as the red sparks began swirling faster and faster, forming a vortex to swallow them up.

The light from his staff faded, and with it, the Black Legion battalion was gone forever. The Traveler stood alone, surrounded by silence, except for the sounds of his heavy breathing. His staff was covered in a fine layer of ash, and he could smell the lingering stench of fire and burnt flesh.

After a moment, he lowered his staff and took a shaky step forward, collapsing to the ground a second later.

"Fuck…" He whispered to himself, as he bit his lip until he drew blood. The pain was enough to keep him awake lest he fell unconscious in the worst possible moment.

()()()()

Under the cover of night, a series of light footsteps resonated on the surface of a stone wall. The clanking of climbing hooks announced that the knight squadron had begun to scale the outer wall of Saint Lucien Village.

The nature of their mission required them to dispose of most of their armor, leaving only a few boiled leather and chain mail parts for protection. Weapons on their back, fifteen seasoned warriors quickly made their way up to the battlements.

They had been daring enough to go up the North side of the town, which was the closest one to the town's hill and their objective, the Village Chief's manse. Surely, it would be crawling with Legionnaires, so they had to be just as fast in eliminating any scouts that would alert the others.

At the front, a young, brunette warrior led the fifteen men, her chain mail armor rattling as she crept closer toward her target. She had her eyes locked on the nearest guard tower, her hand on the hilt of one of her swords. She had to keep her head down, as she carefully scanned the battlements for any signs of movement. She saw nothing.

The warriors crept along the battlements like ghosts, their faces concealed by their iron helmet visors. The brunette warrior was the first to reach the guard tower, her chain mail rattling like the sound of raindrops. She crept up to the guard tower, her eyes darting from place to place, her fingers on the handle of her sword. She felt her body tense, as she prepared for a battle she knew was coming.

She was about to signal with her hand to her friends that the coast was clear, but apparently, luck would have it otherwise. A loud thump was heard close to her position. She turned to see that one of the village guards, who was sleeping on the job, had just suddenly fallen from his chair onto the cold floor.

'Damn it!' She thought as the man opened his eyes to realize in shock that the wall had been breached by an unknown force. The brunette had to act quickly if she wanted to prevent him from shouting.

The brunette warrior reached down and covered his mouth to prevent him from screaming. She held her free hand up to signal to the other warriors to move, as she pulled her dagger and slit the guard's throat. The guard convulsed and gasped, as his eyes clouded over. "Shh... shh..." the female warrior whispered, as he died. "It's okay," she said, as she wiped the blood from her blade.

"Nice job, Meg. Wyeld, climb atop the tower and stand watch. Use your crossbow to take out any patrolling guards in range." A middle-aged man with an imposing physique ordered his young subordinate, as the knight left to carry out his duty.

"It seems we have secured this area. What now, Captain?" Another large man wielding a huge battleax inquired.

"Now we wait," the Captain said. "We wait until one of the other guard towers falls, and the signal comes down to move towards the village's hill."

A second group led by a senior knight had been dispatched to capture a second tower. This would prevent the guard from attacking them from the rear, as well as secure their escape route.

As the night wore on, the men grew anxious, their fingers itching to plunge right into the Chief's manse. Eventually, a tiny flaming projectile rose to the sky, signaling that another tower had fallen. "There," the Captain said as he turned to the warriors behind him.

As soon as she saw the flaming projectile in the sky, Meg turned to face her captain. "We need to move. Now," she whispered.

The rest of the knight squadron was already in position, waiting for the signal. The group rushed forward. Within seconds, they had already closed in on the village's hill.

Arion knew that this was their only chance to take the manse, so he led his men into an assault. They were armed with crossbows and swords, but they also had a proper method to enter through one of the manse's service doors.

"Get them open!" Arion ordered.

As a young knight got to work on the doors using lock-picks, the Captain frantically looked around to see if he could spot any guard.

So far, there had been no sight of a Legionnaire. This did not bode well with him, or his soldiers for that matter. It gave them the feeling they were walking right into a trap.

"Stay in formation," Arion said.

The young knight quickly picked the locks. The heavy metal doors swung open. The group moved inside, holding their weapons at the ready. They quickly moved through the service rooms and hallways. The inside of the manse was dark and cold.

The men made their way to the main hall. As they entered, the lights came on, revealing the Chief and his personal guards. The Chief was sitting on a wooden throne, with ten of his men, including four Legionnaires, standing guard beside him.

"I see my hired swords were actually right for once." The balding Village Chief voiced mockingly.

The chief's guards rushed toward the knights. The knight Captain let out a rallying cry as he rushed into battle. His ornate white blade raised above his head, he quickly moved into the center of the room. His men followed him. The Chief's personal guard met the knights face-to-face.

As the first clash ensued, the Chief looked on from his throne. "What are you waiting for? Attack!" He ordered the Legionnaires.

To his command, they merely chuckled. "Our orders were to keep you alive, old man. Not to kill these warriors." One of the men clad in black plate said.

"Wait, what?" The Chief grew furious. He rushed down from his throne to join his guards in battle, as the Legionnaires refused to move. However, at the last second, they took action and darted at the knights with great speed.

The Captain saw this coming and immediately raised his arms. "Fall back! Fall back! We can't take them head-on!" He yelled to his men. They began to retreat.

They began to retreat, but the Legionnaires were already on them. There was a flurry of steel as the knights fought the Legionnaires. The Captain took a deep slash across his arm.

"We're surrounded!" He said. He reached into a pouch and grabbed something that looked like a grey pebble. This was the speed-enhancing item they received from the Traveler.

He gulped down the pill and his body was instantly filled with energy. He raised his beautiful sword, ready to face a Legionnaire.

The Legionnaires came forward, their swords aiming to decapitate every knight on sight. They swung at the captain with lightning speed. "Ahhh!!!" The Captain yelled as he dodged a sword that had come dangerously close to his head.

The Captain, now filled with energy, moved unnaturally fast. He swung harder and faster than the Legionnaires had seen before. He raised his sword, brought it down towards the first enemy he saw, and cleanly split him in half. The Legionnaire fell to the floor, lifeless.

"Right on, sir!" Fendos cheered, as he too ingested a Speed Pill and used its effect to make quick work out of the other three Legionnaires.

In mere seconds, the tide had turned and now the Village Chief had been left alone.

The Village Chief, realizing the situation, attempted to make a run for it. However, the Captain and Fendos were now too fast for him to escape.

"Wait! Stop! Don't kill me! I surrender!" he shouted, putting his hands in the air in a gesture of surrender. They slowly approached the Village Chief.

"You'll pay for this." The Captain said, as the other warrior stood behind him, waiting for his moment to strike. The Village Chief trembled in fear, as they moved closer and closer. "But first, you'll tell me where the Legate is." Arion said threateningly, referring to the leader of the Legionnaires.

"I… I don't know!" he shouted, terrified. There was nothing the Captain wanted more than killing this man in cold blood, but he held his sword down. He needed answers. The Chief may have been a coward, but he was smart, and he wouldn't give out the information without a deal.

"What do you want from me?" the Chief asked, his voice trembling. "If you spare my life, I will give you anything you desire."

With a devilish smile, the Captain laughed sadistically as he responded, "I want the head of Legate Gannicus."

()()()()

On another part of the village, a series of tall humanoid-looking beasts were gathering right outside the stone walls. A pair of glowing violet eyes watched as his army readied itself.

"Half of the Legionnaires shall soon clash with those knights, and the other half has already been destroyed by the wizard. The time is now. Go forth, my creatures. Annihilate everything and anything that lies in your path." The entity hidden among the trees whispered as a sadistic smile was drawn on its monstrous visage.

The beasts stood and lumbered out from the surrounding woods. Their eyes glowed from within the deepest recesses of their skulls, emitting pale light that illuminated the mist. As they effortlessly scaled the walls, the creatures' cries echoed through the forest, their voices dripping with their hunger for violence.

They moved as one, with a single purpose. The ground shook as they approached, their steps causing the stone walls to tremble. There was no stopping this horde, no one who could stop them when they were fueled by such a potent desire for bloodshed.

The horde descended upon the village with a bloodlust that was palpable in the air. The beasts were hungry for violence and destruction, and they had come to feed. Their voices were deafening as they screamed their war cries, an entire chorus of feral fury that cut through the air like the screams of a thousand cornered animals. Their eyes glowed with malice and anticipation, as if their thirst for carnage could only be satisfied by drinking the blood of their unwitting victims directly from their skin.