The Crimson March

The first light of dawn painted the horizon in hues of orange and red, but it brought no warmth to the valley below Skull Mountain. Instead, the rising sun seemed to illuminate the creeping dread that had settled over the land like a suffocating shroud. Smoke from Black Hollow's ruins still curled lazily into the sky, a grim reminder of what had transpired just hours before. For miles around, the air carried an unnatural chill, as though the mountain itself exhaled frost with every passing moment.

At the edge of the forest, the warriors of Skull Mountain assembled in silence. Their crimson eyes glowed faintly in the dim morning light, reflecting both anticipation and unease. Each wore armor battered by countless battles, their weapons gleaming darkly with menace. Among them stood Eira, her hands gripping the hilt of her blade tightly, her knuckles white with tension. She tried to focus on the task ahead, but her mind kept drifting back to the horrors she'd witnessed—and those yet to come.

Red-Eye led the procession, his towering frame cutting an imposing figure against the pale light. His scarred face was unreadable, his expression cold and detached, yet his burning gaze swept over the group with unspoken authority. Behind him marched Kael and Mira, flanking their leader like loyal sentinels. Garrik and Lira followed close behind, their presence adding weight to the already oppressive atmosphere. Together, they formed a vanguard of terror, moving with purpose toward the next settlement—a small village known only as Ashen Hollow.

---

As the warriors trudged through the dense underbrush, the sound of snapping twigs and rustling leaves filled the otherwise silent woods. Birds fled at their approach, abandoning nests in panic, while deer bolted into the shadows, their instincts screaming warnings of danger. Even the wind seemed to avoid them, leaving an eerie stillness in their wake.

Eira walked near the rear of the group, her thoughts heavy with doubt. She glanced at the others, noting how some clutched their weapons eagerly, while others stared straight ahead with hollow expressions. None spoke; there was no need for words when the mission was clear. Destroy everything. Leave nothing alive unless ordered otherwise.

"Something troubles you," a voice said softly beside her.

Eira turned to see Kael walking alongside her, his gaunt features softened slightly by the morning light. His tone was neutral, neither accusing nor comforting, but his crimson eyes bore into hers with unsettling intensity.

"It's nothing," Eira replied quickly, forcing herself to look away. "Just… thinking."

Kael nodded slowly, as if he understood more than she cared to admit. "This path is not easy," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the crunch of leaves beneath their boots. "But hesitation will only bring ruin—for us all."

Before Eira could respond, Mira's sharp voice cut through the quiet. "Enough chatter! Keep moving!"

Kael gave Eira one last glance before quickening his pace, leaving her alone with her thoughts once more. She clenched her jaw, steeling herself against the tide of uncertainty threatening to overwhelm her. Whatever lay ahead, she knew she couldn't afford weakness—not here, not now.

---

By midday, the village of Ashen Hollow came into view. Nestled in a shallow valley surrounded by thick pine forests, it appeared almost idyllic from a distance. Smoke rose lazily from chimneys, and children played near the well, their laughter carrying faintly on the breeze. It was a stark contrast to the desolation of Black Hollow, a place untouched by the shadow of Skull Mountain—until now.

Red-Eye halted the group at the tree line, raising a hand to signal silence. He scanned the village carefully, his glowing eyes narrowing as he assessed the scene. "They are unaware," he growled, his voice low but carrying enough weight to command attention. "We strike swiftly and without mercy. Leave none alive who might spread word of our arrival."

The warriors nodded grimly, adjusting their grips on their weapons. Eira swallowed hard, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. She wanted to object, to argue that such brutality wasn't necessary, but the words died on her lips. To defy Red-Eye was to invite death—or worse.

"Move out," Red-Eye commanded, stepping forward with deliberate slowness.

The warriors fanned out, their movements eerily synchronized as they descended upon the unsuspecting village. At first, the villagers noticed nothing amiss, continuing their daily routines with cheerful obliviousness. A farmer tended to his crops, humming softly to himself. A woman hung laundry on a line, pausing occasionally to call to her children. Life went on as usual—until the first scream shattered the tranquility.

It began with chaos. Warriors burst from the treeline, their crimson eyes blazing with malice as they charged into the heart of the village. Swords clashed against pitchforks, axes cleaved through wooden doors, and screams echoed through the narrow streets. The villagers fought back with whatever they could find—kitchen knives, farming tools, even bare fists—but their efforts were futile against the relentless onslaught.

Eira found herself in the thick of the fray, her blade flashing as she parried and struck with practiced precision. Yet each swing felt heavier than the last, her arms trembling with exhaustion and guilt. She avoided looking into the faces of those she cut down, focusing instead on the mechanical rhythm of combat. But no matter how hard she tried, the cries of pain and despair pierced through her resolve, gnawing at her conscience.

Nearby, Mira laughed maniacally, her dagger darting like a snake as she toyed with a villager attempting to flee. "Where do you think you're going?" she taunted, slashing at the man's legs and sending him sprawling to the ground. "Stay and play a little longer."

Garrik wielded his massive warhammer with devastating efficiency, smashing through barricades and crushing anyone foolish enough to stand in his way. Lira darted between buildings, her agility allowing her to ambush stragglers and pick off targets from the shadows. And at the center of it all stood Red-Eye, his axe carving a path of destruction as he advanced steadily toward the village square.

Amidst the carnage, a young boy broke free from the chaos, clutching a crude spear in trembling hands. His eyes locked onto Red-Eye, tears streaming down his dirt-streaked face. "Why are you doing this?" he shouted, his voice cracking with desperation. "What did we ever do to you?"

Red-Eye paused, turning his gaze toward the child. For a moment, the entire battlefield seemed to freeze, the sounds of battle fading into an oppressive silence. Then, without warning, he raised his axe and brought it down with terrifying force, splitting the earth mere inches from the boy's feet.

"Existence is your crime," Red-Eye snarled, his voice dripping with venom. "Now kneel—or die."

The boy dropped the spear, collapsing to his knees as sobs wracked his small frame. Red-Eye sneered, stepping past him without a second glance. Around them, the massacre continued, the village reduced to ash and rubble within minutes.

---

When the fighting finally ceased, the warriors regrouped in the center of what had once been Ashen Hollow. Bodies littered the streets, pools of blood soaking into the dirt. Buildings smoldered, their charred remains casting long shadows in the fading daylight. The air reeked of smoke and death, a testament to the devastation wrought by the crimson-eyed horde.

Red-Eye surveyed the scene with satisfaction, his scarred lips curling into a faint smirk. "Good work," he said, his voice echoing across the ruined village. "But this is only the beginning. Gather any survivors and bring them to me. We may yet find use for them."

Eira hesitated, her stomach churning as she watched several warriors drag a handful of terrified villagers toward their leader. Most were women and children, their faces streaked with tears and soot. They huddled together, clutching each other tightly as if trying to shield themselves from the inevitable.

"What happens to them?" Eira asked quietly, unable to mask the tremor in her voice.

Red-Eye turned to her, his crimson eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. "That depends on their value," he replied. "Some will serve as leverage. Others… as examples."

Eira looked away, bile rising in her throat. She knew what that meant. Those deemed useless would be executed publicly, their deaths serving as a warning to others who might dare resist. It was a tactic designed to instill fear—a tool Red-Eye wielded with ruthless efficiency.

As the survivors were herded into a makeshift pen, Kael approached Red-Eye, his expression grave. "The next settlement lies two days' march east," he reported. "Shall we proceed immediately?"

Red-Eye nodded, his gaze sweeping over the ruined village one final time. "Yes. Let the world know that Skull Mountain has awakened. And let them tremble."

With that, the warriors prepared to move out once more. As they filed past the smoldering remains of Ashen Hollow, Eira lingered behind, her eyes fixed on the horizon. Somewhere beyond the mountains, hope still flickered faintly—a fragile flame waiting to be extinguished or nurtured. She didn't know which fate awaited it, but one thing was certain: the crimson tide showed no signs of stopping.

And neither did the nightmares it left in its wake.