Chapter 62: The Road to Karnath
The warband moved at a steady pace, the dirt road winding through hills and scattered woodlands. The air grew thick with the anticipation of battle, though the men spoke little of it. Only the rhythmic thud of hooves and the occasional barked command broke the silence.
Dikun Silver rode at the head of the column, his mind turning over the reports from the scouts. Varrin's forces had gathered near Karnath Gorge, a narrow pass that twisted through the jagged cliffs like a scar upon the land. It was a natural fortress — one that could serve as both a shield and a trap.
But Dikun had chosen it for a reason.
Varrin expected a reckless charge. He would receive a lesson in strategy instead.
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A Test of Allegiance
By mid-morning, a rider approached from the east, dust trailing in his wake. He wore no insignia, only a tattered cloak and a determined expression. The warband drew to a halt as the stranger slowed his mount.
"Captain Silver," the man called, his voice rough with fatigue. "I bring word from the eastern villages."
Dikun's gaze remained steady. "Speak."
"The people remember what you did at Rithgar," the man continued, dismounting with a grunt. "Many are willing to rise. Farmers, blacksmiths, even merchants. They ask for a banner to follow — a cause to stand for."
Revan's brow furrowed. "A militia?"
"A people's army," the rider corrected. "But they lack weapons and training. They'll need leadership."
Dikun's jaw tightened. More bloodshed. More lives in his hands.
But he understood the truth. If Varrin was to be defeated, it would not be through soldiers alone. It would be through the will of those who refused to be broken.
"Tell them to gather at the eastern ford," Dikun ordered. "We'll supply what we can. But they must understand — this will not be a game. Many may not return."
The rider nodded, determination gleaming in his eyes. "They understand, Captain. And they stand with you."
As the man rode off, Harlon grunted. "You've become more than a captain. People speak your name like a promise."
"I'm no king," Dikun replied. "But I'll carry that promise — for as long as I must."
---
Supplies and Preparations
The camp was set before sunset. Crates of arrows, spare blades, and rough-hewn shields were stacked in the center, a testament to the warband's growing strength. Though resources were scarce, Dikun had ensured they would not march unprepared.
Revan oversaw the distribution, his sharp commands echoing through the clearing. Harlon worked alongside the blacksmiths, reinforcing what little armor they had. The makeshift militia arrived in ragged groups, their faces lined with fear and resolve.
Dikun walked among them, answering their questions, offering words of reassurance. Each pair of eyes he met reminded him of why he fought — why he could not afford to fail.
"We are not nobles," he addressed the gathered men and women. "We are not knights in gilded armor. But we are something Varrin's forces will never understand — free people."
The murmurs of agreement grew into a rising chorus.
"And we will fight, not because we are forced to, but because we choose to. For our homes. For our families. For a future without the black banners that plague these lands."
A cheer erupted, rough and unpolished, but filled with unwavering resolve.
---
Elysia's Counsel
Later that night, as the fires burned low, Dikun found Lady Elysia seated near the outskirts of the camp. The silver-haired noblewoman had discarded the elegance of her lineage, dressed instead in a simple cloak that bore the dirt and wear of the road. Yet there was a quiet strength in her presence.
"You've inspired them," she said softly as he approached. "They will follow you without question."
Dikun lowered himself beside her. "That faith is a double-edged sword. One wrong step, and I'll lead them to ruin."
Elysia's eyes held his. "Then don't take that step. You are not Varrin. You do not crave power. You fight to protect."
He sighed, the weight of command heavy upon him. "Every decision I make carries a cost. The battle ahead will be no different."
"That's true," she agreed. "But perhaps the true measure of a leader is not how many battles he wins — but how many lives he spares."
Her words lingered. Dikun had faced countless choices, both in this world and in the game he once knew. But this time, the pieces were not nameless soldiers. They were people. And every life mattered.
"I won't forget that," he said quietly.
---
The Road Narrows
The following day, the warband pressed onward, the path winding higher into the hills. Karnath Gorge loomed in the distance, the jagged cliffs casting long shadows across the land.
Dikun's scouts reported movement. Varrin's forces had already begun their fortifications. Spiked barricades lined the narrow entrance to the pass, while archers patrolled the cliffside.
But Dikun saw opportunity where others saw obstacles.
"We'll draw them in," he told his officers. "Let them believe we're marching blindly into the gorge. Then we'll strike from the heights."
Revan grinned. "A feigned retreat?"
"With just enough chaos to ensure they follow."
Harlon's grin was one of anticipation. "A gamble. But one worth taking."
Dikun nodded. This was not the careful maneuvering of a game. It was war. But he had learned to see beyond the battlefield — to predict, adapt, and lead.
And when the banners of Varrin rose at Karnath Gorge, the name Dikun Silver would be seared into memory.
To Be Continued...
Author's Note:
I will update this chapter soon after completing 100 chapters of my other novels. I'm currently managing multiple stories while pursuing my second year of college, majoring in AB Political Science. On top of that, I have to finish my thesis and handle numerous academic papers. Despite the challenges, I'll do my best to balance it all and continue delivering my stories for you, my readers. Thank you for your patience and support!