Part 3 - Onto the Hands of Fate

"The path ahead is clear."

A sonar arrow resonated an invisible shockwave that spanned a couple dozen meters up ahead. Creeping behind a bush thicket, James rapidly scanned the surroundings that were hit by the wave. If there was any sign of an enemy, a red mark would be placed on them by the arrow. So far, there was none.

With a sigh of relief, he gestured the cautious soldiers behind him to start moving.

Nathan knelt on one of the towering trees, his eyes glancing the path upwards. It wouldn't be long before they reached the top. But with the sun already having set, and the voices of battle growing silent beneath the mountain, a sense of anxiety overcame him.

Anxious about how this would all end, Nathan recalled how such a course of action failed miserably.

Originally, the plan was simple. Two scouts sent from the 1st Garrison reported a Fort located at the top of the Zeta Mountains. And with the scouts spotting the symbol of a raven decorating its front entrance, nobody doubted that this was one of the commanding points of the infamous House of Ravens. As a result, Cyrus, the captain of the garrison, suggested that it was now or never to infiltrate and overwhelm it. The fortress was relatively small - no bigger than 5 houses. And with the abundant of trees nearby, a raid at dawn before the sunrise where enemies would be sleeping and the darkness would hide the soldiers.

But no one factored in the chance of a preemptive strike.

Before the soldiers could even step a foot near the foot of the mountain, a barrage of explosive bolts shot from the Fort that sat above. And the result? The death of a quarter of the soldiers.

Hordes of swordsmen, all with the symbol of raven carved onto the back of their robes, came soaring down from the mountain after that. And after many hours of battle, the seemingly endless crowd of Ravens had slaughtered half of the attacking force.

But now, no more Ravens could be seen descending from the top. Did they run out of soldiers? Did they escape? Were they all dead? Nobody knew. But with the rest of the Silver Hawk still dealing with the remaining yet still large enemy force at the bottom of the mountain, the time to climb was definitely now or never.

With a path now cleared towards the top, and no enemies descending anymore, it was clear what had to be done.

Nathan tightened his grip around his weapon.

"We all came so far," he spoke. "We're not retreating now."

The footsteps of a couple of men came from his left.

"You bet we're not."

Captain Marcus of the 7th Garrison walked towards him with a hand on his dagger. His face was filled with scars of battle, both fresh and old. But his famous smirk stayed.

Wielder of the Wind Dagger.

"The so-called 'Ravens' suddenly stopped coming, so we were able to climb up quickly when you called us." His head nodding towards the arrival of another garrison.

This time it was Captain Isaac, behind him only a handful of soldiers that survived from the 5th Garrison. His mystical art of the Sands of Eons docked safely in his pocket. "Duty calls, Nathan."

"What about Arthur?"

"I've already sent him a sonic arrow," James stepped up. "Told him that we were already heading towards the top of the mountain."

Nathan nodded, but with hesitation.

"Cyrus. Neal. Joanne. Let us hope they will all be safe when this is over."

And with that, the captains of the 4th, 5th, and 7th Garrisons led the only remaining raid force to their final destination.