ARC 1 - ONWARD

The wheels of the carriage stumbled on the bumpy road as the horse driver swung his whip on the rear of the horses.

The horses neighed loudly in dissatisfaction before they galloped faster and the old carriage stumbled heavily looking like it was going to fall apart but it didn't to show its sturdiness.

In this carriage, a slender hand opened the curtains and a disfigured face looked out the windows to see what the commotion was about.

When she saw there was no problem, a visible relief could be seen on her face.

Thank goodness, she thought she was been chased for a moment, although there was a possibility those people never noticed her absence from the large number of corpses in the mass grave.

Would they even care about a pawn that has finally been cast away. There was no way they would have expected her to be alive.

They were probably merrying and celebrating their victory now.

Last time she got news was that she had committed suicide upon hearing the death of her family members and it had been her last wish for her husband to marry her sister.

What a pair of disgusting vermins!

Rhaia let out a sigh, there was no need for all that now. She should not dwell in the past anymore. All she has to do is plan the future and move forward before ending it all.

The carriage creaked loudly. Rhaia had been on this carriage for two days now going to the place she was meant to visit once in her lifetime. Somewhere she was only to know as a successor and nothing more.

A place none of the Curiel's legitimate bloodlines wished to ever visit again.

Rhaia leaned against the wall of the carriage, she was grateful her father for once never listened to her whims to take Thaia on their journey to this place or else the Curiel would not even have a chance for revenge.

The cool breeze slapped upon her face bringing with it a stinging feeling.

Rhaia's face darkened from the pain as she lifted her fingers to trace the ugly, uneven scars on it. She remembered how frightened the carriage driver was when he saw her face, and she chuckled.

Then her eyes flashed as she remembered the memories from two days earlier.

"Can I get a short knife?"

A raspy voice whispered to the blacksmith lying lazily on the long table at the storefront.

The huge man raised his head sleepily from the table and he looked suspiciously at the hooded figure in front of him.

He was silent for a few seconds before pulling out a dagger from one of the shelves in his shop and handing it out

"Here, that makes three thalers"

A thaler is also known as a silver coin in this world.

Rhaia dropped the three thalers into the outstretched hands of the blacksmith, grabbed the dagger and she stumbled away.

The blacksmith looked at the figure slowly walking away till the shadow disappeared completely. His thoughts unknown as he stared at the empty space in front of him, his eyes fogged over like he remembered a memory.

He smiled because the memory was a happy one and he was sure the other party was doing well also, before he shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, kept the money in the pouch beneath the table and went back to lazily lying on it.

Rhaia stumbled back to the inn she was staying before slowly walking to the room she had rented. Closing the door, she took a deep breath and pulled the suffocating hood off her head.

She walked to the bed and dropped the heavy hood on it. She fell onto the only couch in the room tiredly, her pants heavy.

The blacksmith was one of her father's men who had retired earlier when peace still reigned in the Curiel.

He was a faithful guard, but his old age and some injuries he suffered in his youth made her father lay him off earlier. She never knew he lived in this small town far away from where the Curiel lived.

She wanted to seek his help but when she saw him lying on the table, sleeping peacefully, a little girl's doll placed carefully on the edge of the table, Rhaia changed her mind.

She wanted revenge, but she would never invade the peace of others. She knew if she told him about what had happened, he would leave whatever he was doing and follow her on her path of revenge.

If possible she would fight this battle she started alone, but she knew her enemy was stronger and she needed the help of others even if that meant disturbing their peace.

That is selfish but that was the only option she had.

Rhaia took out the golden insignia from within her coat and stared at it for a long while before placing it back into her coat.

Her hand held the newly bought dagger and gripped onto it as her eyes slowly hardened.

'Slash! Slash!! Slash!!!'

The dagger cut deeply across the beautiful face , disfiguring the smooth skin as blood pooled out from the scars.

The wounds looked so painful yet there was no flicker of emotions on her face. The indifference and hatred she exuded so thick enough to flood the inn.

Rhaia walked to the basin of ice water she had earlier requested before going out, although it had thawed a lot now.

She washed the blood stained dagger in the smaller bowl that came with the basin and dropped it on the bed, her fingers wrinkling from the cold.

Looking at the water slowly rippling in the basin, Rhaia took a deep breath before submerging her whole face in it.

The water stung the scarred face as it penetrated the wounds. The water was so cold that it forcefully stopped the bleeding.

Rhaia pulled out her face from the water and the once beautiful face came out and looked nothing like it had been before.

How long had passed? Well we don't know.

Standing on the cliff, Rhaia looked at the men guarding the tents and patrolling in the night, her eyes drooped.

The men of the Curiel family had been gathered from far and wide. This was their last battle for the family and after this...

"Wu...Wu...uu" Rhaia let out a shaky breath as she stroked the golden insignia in her hand. She smiled as she remembered how the village head of the hidden Curiel army had reacted upon seeing it.

He was shocked and his strong body fell down before he began weeping, then the whole village was made to go on a ten days mourning for the departed souls of their benefactors.

The hidden Curiel army had been established by the first Duke Curiel who took orphans and beggars alike saving them from the streets and hunger and made them settle down in the mountains.

The first Duke had also acquired slaves in many quantities and stripped them of their embarrassing identities, making them freeborn. These people saw the Curiel as their saviours because if not, they would have been stripped bare of anything they ever owned, even their bodies would not have been theirs anymore.

After being made to settle in the mountains, there a village formed as these beggars, orphans and slaves came together, married wives from outside and bore children over the years becoming the army they are now.

The first generation of soldiers had multiplied from the first hundreds to the now thousands of soldiers generation after generation.

The insignia was a symbol for battle to call on this hidden Army.

It was also an object that symbolised the downfall of the once powerful family.

Rhaia clenched her hand around the hard object, she had failed her family, the least she could do is make their souls rest in peace.

Days climbed into nights, nights into days. Seasons came and left, months became years.

The many hidden soldiers like diamonds in the rough began to crack off their heavy, ugly shells to reveal the beauty inside.

They were ready for war.

Rhaia smiled bitterly and clutched the crystal around her neck, the closer the day for revenge, the closer she is to end it all.

The soldiers had dropped their hoes and hammers and picked up their weapons of war. From the once clumsy, scattered bunch to the uniform, battle ready warriors they were now.

The march begun, the valiant soldiers hiding in the mountains preparing diligently for war packed up their tents and said their last goodbyes to their families and friends.

A war took lives and no one knew who would be back or who would perish in its hands.

A smile on Rhaia's face as her hand tightened around the reins of the horse. She had once been a clumsy, happy soul but now she is just one dead inside, driven by revenge and hatred.

She knows she won't be back, she was sure she would die in this battle,

And would die by her own hands.

She touched the necklace on her chest and kissed it as hatred flashed in her eyes. The hatred directed up North and she looked incessantly towards there.

"Onward! ... Leave no stone unturned"

Her voice croaked.

"Ay!..."

Came the response.

The hooves of horses thundered, the wheels of carriages creaked as they stumbled

And the thousands of Soldiers with their horses and carriages uniformly marched on.