Chapter 10: Into the Western Hills

A pale dawn stretched across Luxaria's skyline, painting the battered Knights' garrison in muted gold. In the courtyard—still scarred from the cult's recent siege—Sir Galland, Aria Highwind, and a dozen other knights prepared for departure. A pair of covered wagons stood by, each stocked with supplies: lanterns, ropes, healing salves, and extra weapons. Nearby, several horses stamped and snorted, their breath misting in the chilly morning air.

Reziel stood off to one side, observing the final checks with a mixture of anticipation and dread. His worn cloak offered little warmth in the crisp breeze. He tugged it closer, trying to distract himself from the lingering ache in his side and the sense of violet energy thrumming in his veins.

This is it, he thought, gaze flicking to the packed wagons. Once we ride out, there's no turning back until we face the cult on their turf.

He swallowed hard. Last night's uneasy dreams still haunted him: a vision of swirling darkness and a locked door that beckoned him deeper. He had no clue if it was a warning or just a fabrication of his anxious mind. Either way, it set the tone for the journey ahead.

Sir Galland finished a brisk conversation with Knight-Commander Farren—who would remain behind to oversee repairs and security. Galland then turned to Reziel, his expression unreadable but not unfriendly. "Ready?"

Reziel managed a nod. "As I'll ever be."

Aria approached leading two horses, one for Reziel. He eyed the animal warily—he'd never been particularly skilled at riding, but at least he had some basic knowledge from odd jobs in the countryside. Aria helped him with the saddle. Her own mount was a chestnut mare with a white blaze down her muzzle.

"The western hills are two days' ride," Aria said, tightening a strap on Reziel's saddle. "We'll keep to known roads as long as possible. After that, we'll rely on the scouts' directions—and luck."

Reziel's stomach did a flip. "Luck. Right." He swung onto the horse, wincing at the tug in his healing side. The horse snorted but didn't protest too much.

Aria climbed gracefully into her own saddle, scanning the courtyard. Sir Galland gave a sharp whistle to signal the knights. One by one, they mounted their steeds or piled into the wagons, their armor glinting in the early sunlight.

In a low voice meant for Reziel alone, Galland murmured, "Stay close to Aria. If trouble arises, do not stray."

Reziel suppressed a bitter laugh. "I won't," he assured, mentally noting how often he ended up cornered or ambushed in the past week. Sticking near the knights might be the only buffer between me and the cult—especially if I'm still half-dead from a single big spell.

At Galland's shout of "Move out!" the expedition rumbled away from the garrison gates. The horses clopped against cobblestones, and wagon wheels creaked under their heavy loads. Several knights waved farewells to those remaining behind, and the guards at the gate saluted with grim faces. The city streets soon enveloped them, pulling them into a journey that promised more questions than answers.

Riding through Luxaria's bustling districts, Reziel caught sight of curious onlookers. Merchants paused in setting up their stalls, and passersby paused to watch the small procession of knights leaving town. A palpable tension hung in the air, no doubt a byproduct of the recent cult attack.

Aria guided her horse closer to Reziel's. "People are spooked," she said quietly, returning a somber wave from a child who peeked around a corner. "Many know something big went down at the garrison. Rumors spread fast."

Reziel nodded. "I don't blame them. The cult assault probably feels too close to home. If they can hit the Knights' own base, what's stopping them from attacking the city directly?"

Aria's jaw tightened. "That's why we have to neutralize them before they gain any more ground—or attempt another, larger strike."

A hush settled over them. Reziel's thoughts drifted to the captive cultists, who'd refused to reveal much about their main hideout. We're basically walking into the unknown. But the promise of a "Ritual of Severance"—or any clue about removing the System—echoed in his mind, fueling his resolve.

By midday, the group reached Luxaria's outskirts and took a well-worn country road that cut through rolling farmlands. Autumn crops swayed in the breeze, though the sky remained overcast. Sparse farmsteads dotted the landscape, and occasionally, a villager would greet the knights or offer them water. The expedition pushed on, aiming for a small hamlet that Galland marked as a potential campsite before nightfall.

Reziel quickly discovered how exhausting long-distance riding could be—his thighs burned, and his side twinged each time the horse jostled over uneven ground. Better than walking the whole way, I guess, he mused, trying to stay positive.

During a short break, Aria dismounted to check on Reziel's bandages. His tunic clung to the wound, sweat-soaked from exertion. "The ride's aggravating it," she muttered, carefully peeling back a corner to inspect the skin. "It's not bleeding, at least."

He exhaled, grateful for her concern. "I'll manage."

Her gaze flicked to the faint violet mark that occasionally surfaced on his forearm—the residual sign of Dark Rupture. She pursed her lips but said nothing. The question hovered, unspoken: How much more can your body handle while the System grows in strength?

Galland motioned for them to mount up again, and soon the party resumed its steady pace.

They arrived at the designated hamlet by sundown—only a small cluster of cottages with a modest inn near a trickling creek. The knights pitched tents on the inn's property, wary of crowding the locals indoors. Sir Galland and a few sub-commanders paid the innkeeper for supplies and stable fees, while Reziel dismounted with a groan of relief.

Aria, noticing his unsteady stance, escorted him to a spot near the campfire. "Rest. We'll set up tents and get dinner cooking." Her eyes scanned his pale face. "I'll have a cleric look you over, just to be sure."

He didn't protest, slumping onto a fallen log by the fire. Over the next hour, the knights pitched tents in neat rows, staked horses to graze, and rotated bath shifts in the creek. Steam from a cauldron of stew wafted invitingly, easing the chill of twilight.

As he warmed his hands by the flame, Reziel realized how surreal this felt—sitting among knights who once viewed him as a dangerous anomaly. Yet the day's journey revealed a certain camaraderie; when he'd faltered, a knight would slow their horse, offering a stabilizing arm. When his wound throbbed, a passing squire brought water. Maybe this is how it feels to have allies.

He glanced up to see Aria returning with two bowls of stew, a hint of a smile on her face. She handed him one, then took a seat on the log beside him. "Eat up," she said. "We've got another long haul tomorrow."

He nodded gratefully, inhaling the savory aroma. "Thank you."

They ate in companionable silence, the campfire crackling around them. Overhead, a canopy of stars began to emerge between the shifting clouds, faint yet steady.

Later that evening, Sir Galland called for a quick briefing around the campfire. The knights gathered in a loose circle, Reziel included. Two advance scouts—lightly armored riders—had returned from a quick reconnaissance of the western hills.

The first scout, a wiry man with sharp eyes, knelt beside the map Galland spread on a tree stump. "We got about three miles into the foothills before dark. Found signs of recent movement—boot prints, probably ten or twelve people, heading deeper northwest."

The second scout, a woman with a scar across her brow, added, "We also spotted half-collapsed watchtowers and what looked like remnants of old fortifications. Hard to be sure in the failing light, but it matches what we know of that abandoned fortress."

Galland nodded, glancing at Aria. "We'll break camp at first light, push into the hills, and move cautiously. If the cultists are active there, we don't want to alert them prematurely."

Aria agreed, tapping the map with a gauntleted finger. "We'll likely need to split the group—one team circling around to block potential escape routes while the main force approaches. Prevent them from slipping away like they did in the city."

Reziel listened intently, heart pounding at the thought of a real infiltration. I'll be right in the thick of it, he realized, anxiety creeping in despite his resolve.

Eventually, Galland dismissed everyone, urging them to rest. The knights drifted to their tents in pairs or small groups, hushed conversations about potential cult ambushes echoing through the night.

Reziel stayed by the dying campfire, letting the warmth sink into his tired muscles. The moon peeked from behind thin clouds, illuminating the rolling fields just beyond the hamlet. Crickets chirped, and the soft rustle of leaves provided a rare moment of calm.

A quiet footstep signaled Aria's approach. She settled onto the log across from him, the embers reflecting in her eyes. "You should get some sleep," she said gently.

He nodded but made no move to rise. "Just… thinking. Tomorrow feels like we're on the edge of something big. One way or another."

Aria studied him. "You're worried about facing more cultists with your wound—and the System."

His shoulders slumped slightly. "I can't shake the feeling that I'm dragging everyone into danger. The cult wants me, and I have no idea how strong they might be out there."

She shook her head firmly. "They threatened Luxaria and the Knights first, Reziel. Don't blame yourself. And if their hideout is indeed where they perform forbidden rites, we'd have to confront them sooner or later—even without you."

Her words offered a measure of reassurance, and he mustered a small smile. "Thanks."

They sat in companionable silence for a moment, the crackle of dying embers and the distant calls of night birds surrounding them.

Finally, Aria rose. "Tomorrow, we'll do our jobs. If you stay close to me—and to Sir Galland—you'll be fine. And maybe… just maybe, we'll find something that helps you with the System."

Reziel exhaled, nodding. A glimmer of hope sparked beneath his anxiety. "Let's pray so."

With that, Aria gave him one last encouraging nod and slipped away to her tent. Reziel lingered a few minutes more, gazing at the stars. Eventually, exhaustion overtook him, and he retreated to a small canvas tent a squire had pitched for him—a modest space that, at least, smelled better than the garrison's stale walls.

He curled into his bedroll, heart thudding quietly as images of rugged hills and shadowy ruins danced behind his eyelids. The cult. The fortress. The Ritual of Severance. He could almost hear the System humming, eager for the battles to come.

When morning broke, the camp was a flurry of activity—knights checking saddles, squires packing up tents, steaming pots of oatmeal passed around for breakfast. Reziel woke with a dull ache in his side, but his mind felt sharper. Adrenaline kindled in his veins as he contemplated the day's mission.

Aria was already distributing orders to a group of junior knights, ensuring their formation once they reached the hills. Sir Galland conferred quietly with the scouts. As Reziel finished strapping on his meager gear (mostly just his cloak and a short sword the knights had loaned him), he overheard snippets of strategy:

"...circle the ridge to cut off any escape route…"

"...a steep ravine on the west side might be guarded…"

"...remain vigilant for magical traps or wards…"

At last, Galland lifted a hand, rallying everyone. "Mount up! We ride!"

Horses snorted, wagons creaked, and the small caravan moved out once more. In the early light, the western horizon loomed—a range of rolling hills darkened by thick, gnarled trees. A sense of foreboding settled over Reziel as they approached: the cult's domain awaited them, hidden among the crags and abandoned stone keeps.

Tugging at the reins of his horse, Reziel fell in behind Aria. Uncertainty churned in his gut, but he steeled himself. No running away now. If the whispers of forbidden knowledge—and possible freedom from the System—lay in those ruins, then he had to see this through.

As the expedition ventured off the beaten path, the morning sun vanished behind swirling clouds. Wind rustled through the tall grasses, and the chill of looming conflict tightened its grip on every knight present. Reziel closed his eyes momentarily, taking one last calming breath before he urged his horse forward into the unknown.