CHAPTER 204

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CHAPTER 205

294 AC

POV THIRD PERSON

The man with cascading blond hair and an infectious smile approached the entrance of the misty forest that led to the Temple. His curiosity was piqued by the enigmatic aura that surrounded the place. The young trees seemed to beckon him forward, their branches shrouded in an ethereal mist.

As he ventured deeper into the forest, the atmosphere became more surreal. The soft rustling of leaves and the gentle whispers of the wind added to the mystique of the place. Shafts of dappled sunlight pierced through the thick canopy above, creating an otherworldly play of light and shadow. The only constant sunlight was on the road, even though the forest was young and trees were around 4 or 5 meters high. As he peered into the forest, the light got dim.

The man couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder and trepidation. He had heard tales of the Temple hidden within these woods, stories of magic and secrets. The paths around were obscured; the only way forward was the road. And he knew not what he might discover within the depths of this forest. Yet, his curiosity nudged him; it was telling him to step into the forest and leave the road.

...

As Aermir continued his meticulous work on the cloak, it was Poe who initiated contact through their telepathic connection.

"Father," Poe communicated, "Gerion Lannister has arrived at the outskirts of the misty forest. However, he seems to be deviating from the established road."

Aermir took a moment to consider the situation before responding via their telepathic link, "In that case, let's make sure he understands the importance of sticking to the road. Poe, please reach out to Berus and Artio. Instruct them to coordinate an operation using the dominated wolves and bears. Their objective is to encircle Gerion's party. Ensure that everyone except Gerion Lannister dies in this encounter, and Gerion himself should suffer only minor injuries."

A sinister smile blossomed on Aermir's face. For some time now, he had harbored the desire to use someone as a stark example, demonstrating the perils concealed within the depths of the forest. Most individuals wisely adhered to the established road when met with the spine-chilling howls of wolves or the ominous growls of bears echoing through the woods.

...

Gerion had always possessed a penchant for thrill-seeking, and today was no exception. Upon encountering the mist-shrouded forest, instead of sticking to the well-trodden road, he made a fateful decision to plunge headlong into the unknown. As they journeyed deeper through the forest, confusion began to take hold of them. The mist's arcane influence wove a web of disorientation, and an unsettling feeling began to take root within Gerion. Perhaps, he pondered, disregarding the warning posted outside the forest had been a reckless misadventure rather than a daring escapade. But curiosity had overtaken him, and he yearned to personally experience the mysteries of this magical mist.

One of his knights, a sense of unease coloring his voice, approached Gerion and ventured, "My Lord, should we not return to the road?"

Gerion halted, pondering the question for a few tense moments. With each passing second, his regret deepened. The eerie howls and growls grew louder, and unease spread among his soldiers like wildfire.

…

Attempting to retrace their steps and return to the safety of the road proved futile; the dense forest seemed to thwart their every attempt. They found themselves ensnared within this labyrinth of mist and magic. Yellow, predatory eyes tracked their every move relentlessly from the shadows, their owners concealed by the eerie shroud of the forest. The ceaseless howls and growls echoed through the mist, an unending chorus of menace that sent shivers down the spines of Gerion's soldiers. Fear had firmly taken hold of them, tightening its grip with each passing moment.

The forest fell eerily silent as if nature itself had held its breath in anticipation. The soldiers, gripped by fear, could scarcely believe the sudden cessation of noise. They clutched their weapons tighter, eyes darting in every direction, searching for any sign of movement. It was like every animal inside the forest had died; like there was no living being inside it other than the soldiers.

But then, a bone-chilling sound shattered the silence—the guttural growls of wolves and the thunderous roars of bears echoed through the misty woods. It was as if the very earth beneath them trembled in response to the approaching horde.

From the shadows and fog emerged a nightmarish procession. The eyes of the creatures glowed like fiery orbs. Wolves with gnashing fangs and bears with razor-sharp claws surged forth, a relentless wave of predatory fury. The Lannister soldiers, now confronted with this onslaught, had no choice but to stand their ground. Panic spread among the ranks as they formed a defensive circle, backs to one another, swords and spears gleaming with a desperate determination. The knights and footmen alike knew that their lives depended on their ability to fend off the relentless horde. Around 60-70 beasts were charging towards them; maybe there might have been even 100 of them.

The first clash was a cacophony of screams and snarls, blades meeting fangs and claws. Wolves leaped with savage precision, their jaws clamping down on exposed flesh, while bears swiped with monstrous strength, sending men hurtling through the air.

The forest floor became a maelstrom of blood and chaos, the desperate battle waged beneath the oppressive veil of mist. Every soldier fought with a fierce resolve, knowing that retreat was impossible within the claustrophobic confines of the Temple's misty forest.

The wolves, cunning and relentless, circled their prey, seeking openings in the defenses. Knights swung their swords in wide arcs, striking down the oncoming threats, but the beasts were unyielding. For every wolf that fell, another seemed to take its place.

Amidst the brutality, Gerion Lannister led the charge with unwavering valor, his golden lion sigil a beacon of defiance in the heart of the tempest. His swordsmanship was a testament to his training and courage, as he struck down beast after beast. But the odds were overwhelming, and the losses mounted.

The Lannister men, their faces contorted with fear, swung their weapons with all their might, striking down some of the ferocious creatures. But the sheer number of wolves and bears overwhelmed them.

Within minutes, the forest floor was littered with the lifeless bodies of Lannister soldiers, their valiant efforts reduced to futile struggles. It was a gruesome sight as the beasts tore into their fallen foes, feasting on the fallen warriors.

Gerion Lannister, his arm bleeding from a bite, found himself among the few survivors. Panic and desperation drove them to run, leaving behind their comrades who had fallen in the brutal battle. They sprinted through the misty forest, their hearts pounding in their chests, pursued by the relentless predators.

The forest seemed like an unending labyrinth, and they could feel the predatory eyes of the creatures watching their every move. As they finally burst out of the forest into the open plains, Gerion looked back one last time. He met the gaze of a wolf, its yellow eyes locking onto his. With a menacing growl, the wolf turned and disappeared back into the misty depths of the forest. Almost all of his men were caught at the plain and dragged back into the forest. From more than 60 men, only a handful of them remained.