The Blood Lands

Chapter 1

"You're wiser than you look, Ren." Lancel patted him on his shoulder. "Remind me after tonight to bring your little girl a gift. If she likes dolls like that, Leila has old ones that lie around gathering dust."

Ren smiled. "Thank you, my lord. Vena would love that and of course, to see her guardian."

"Blow the horn, it's time. Let's get this over with." Lancel was calm. He needed to be, to keep his men brave and hopeful. When facing a fight, hope that you'll survive another minute is all it takes to push you beyond what the other man can - spelling the difference between victory and death.

He reached into the side pocket of his trousers and pulled out a bottle. He wore no plate armor or steel, it was too heavy and useless for him. He was going to win with his blade. And of course, this. The bottle was made of plain wood, but inside Lancel can imagine the silver liquid sloshing back and forth. He uncorked the bottle and downed its contents. What's inside made this bottle worth thousands of crossings. The liquid was creamy and smooth, but tasted bitter. He tossed the empty bottle. He couldn't feel the liquid in his stomach, but he felt something else, somewhere in his chest - a full and unique feeling - like taking in an extra, bigger breath of air that filled him up.

His army was moving forward, a slow march. The enemies were doing the same. Soon, it was going to be a bloodbath, with only one side leaving with more men alive than dead. It was a very calm night, a gentle breeze brushed against Lancel's skin. It comforted him, and maybe it did the same for his men. No one in his army was on horseback since it didn't seem necessary for Lancel or his father. Though a horse here would be most appreciated. Such wide plains, a rider could maneuver past ranks of men. A riding Thracen would decimate this entire army, slicing through armor and flesh and bone like cutting through air. Give me a horse, then I can ride to Fardea and cut off Drellidan's head myself. Maybe that can put a stop to this fighting.

Lancel knew the fighting wouldn't stop. Drellidan was merely a lord, fighting for another king, much like how Lancel was fighting for another king. They were just two people, two pieces in a game. Kings did not see the individual men who died for their cause or their pride. This was another squabble, another imperial mandate for which many of his men were to die. I have to end this quick. He thought as they were getting closer to a wide open field where both armies would most likely engage. Find their leader, kill him then decimate all of them. They will flee, and my men can cut them down. Less casualties for Scalgue.

Lancel was in front and he was around sixty feet away from the first enemy. He consumed his Kanna. He felt the extra breath start to shrink. It felt like it was being exhaled and inhaled by something else. He glanced at Stain. It started to radiate a gray smoky aura that trailed away from it into wisps then disappears completely in the air. Lancel did not feel anything different, but he knew that his sword was ready. He raised it up, its smoky trails waving around in the air. "Men! Another battle, another victory. To victory!"

Lancel began running and his men followed. The opposing army probably noticed and they began to run as well. They aren't scared, that's different. In the early battles, their enemies were brave. After the first two skirmishes, Lancel was sent to the field with Stain, and after that their enemies were hesitant in charging. But they're moving towards us right now, brave and ready to die. These must be slaves. Are they promised freedom whether they live or die?

Both sides were nearing each other now. Then, they crashed. Lancel was fast and nimble, his light armor allowing him to maneuver past the first strikes. He ducked and weaved past swords and axes, he went closer into the fray. He heard the clash behind him as his men followed and engaged with the enemies. Lancel had to find the leader. He had to enter the heart of the enemy army, then kill them from there. It allowed him to move and attack without thinking if he was going to accidentally hurt his own soldiers. The enemy soldiers were wearing basic leather armor, but a few had some parts of steel and metal. Lancel found one wearing full plate. He must be special, a general or captain. He needs to die first.