Alucieus’ men suffered from countless battles and trudged on regardless of how exhausted they were from the endless fighting and tactically retreating time after time with no end in sight. Each fight would be one more man to carry home, one more friend lost along the path. The Burning Legion shadowed their trail for weeks now, forcing them to remain on the move despite their wounded. The Amber Glade ship that carried three months worth of food and supplies never made it near the coast, thanks to the unnamed Demon General that hounded the Oathguard across western Highmountain. They could only get a few hours of rest until the demonic forces were spotted approaching from nearly all sides, and they had no time to properly heal their wounded- which only made their injuries worse. They were on the brink of starvation, and with every passing hour, their will to continue faded.
Ijiro dragged the corpse of a fallen soldier by his cloak, knowing he too would collapse if he carried him on his back; but he refused to leave anyone behind, for the thought of letting felhounds desecrate their corpses was out of the question. Every inch of his body burned and ached, screaming at him for even a minute of rest, but he knew if he stopped to rest, he wouldn’t have the strength to rise back to his feet. He struggled to continue, stumbling every now and then while he fought through his disorienting pain. A part of him regretted leaving the warmth of Syrahn’s bed, but this kind of torture was exactly what he expected when fighting the Burning Legion. I got too fat and lazy in the Amber Glade, spoiled rotten by fine food and relaxation. Ijiro rubbed sweat away from his eye while he focused on not falling flat on his face. Or maybe I’m just getting too old for this shit.
“Lord Sun’rael…” Gonthar weakly spoke, catching the paladin’s attention. “We must find shelter and rest soon… or all of our wounded men will die…”
“If we stop, the Legion will catch up to us.” Alucieus clutched the gash along his side with his bloodstained gauntlet, fighting through the pain each step gave him; he did his best to hide his pain and the overwhelming fatigue that compounded every moment, but even this was becoming too much. “We need to keep moving until we lose them.” He said with a worn, weary glance back at a few injured men and women alongside him before looking forward on their path.
“They must be following our blood scent…” a distant voice coughed behind the veil of Highmountain’s morning fog, dragging a dying ally behind him. “Our dead and injured are leading them right to us…”
“We don’t leave nobody behind!” Ijiro barked through the freezing morning haze, turning to glare over his shoulder in the direction that voice came from; the thought of felhounds defiling the corpses of his allies made the Hunter’s blood boil.
“They are dead weight! Leaving them could give us a chance to escape…!” Ijiro stopped in his tracks to turn completely around, straining to see who that voice belonged to.
“You drop that body, yeah?! You drop that body and I’ll drop you! Nobody gets left behind! NOBODY!” Although the Hunter could barely move, let alone stand, he fully intended to uphold his threat should they decide to call his bluff. His heels felt like they were about to split in half, but he didn’t care; he swore he wouldn’t leave anyone behind, and he would sooner die than leave someone to die at the hands of the Burning Legion.
“To hell with this!” one soldier coughed, staggering a few steps forward before dropping the corpse he was carrying. “I want to live!”
“You swore an oath!” Ijiro’s burning gaze followed the man while he began to run as fast as he could, splitting off from the rest of the group. “You get back here! COWARD!” The Hunter fell to one knee as his exhaustion began to wear him down, but he still had enough strength to raise his rifle to his shoulder. He aimed down the sights and pointed it against the deserter’s back, but before he could squeeze the trigger, a bloodied gauntlet was placed on his shoulder.
“Let them run.” Alucieus’ face was pale from his bloodloss, but he still had that stern glare in his eyes. “We don’t want to bring any unwanted attention.” A few others dropped their allies and gear, deciding to make a break for it now that morale was finally broken. Ijiro grit his teeth while he stared hatefully at them, watching them vanish into the mist one by one.
“Ijiro…” a grievously wounded paladin lay flat on his back in the grass, weakly raising a hand toward the Hunter to get his attention. “I don’t th-think I’m… going to m-make it…” Ijiro struggled to rise to his feet, but the pain was becoming too much to fight through.
“You’re not gonna die out here Varkol. We’re all going to get through this, you hear me?” The paladin closed his eyes, straining to remain conscious as the anguish from the fel burns slowly ate away at his sanity.
“Leave me… to buy you… s-some time…”
“Fuck that.” Ijiro limped over to the paladin and grabbed him by his extended hand. “You’re not dying on my watch.” He studied Varkol closely, noticing the paladin’s eyes were starting to gloss over.
“Look at m-me…” He weakly whispered. “It’s too… too late…”
“Fuck. That.” He pulled the corpse he was carrying onto his shoulders, almost falling flat onto his face; with the little amount of strength he had left, he began to pull the cloak Varkol was laying on in order to continue dragging him along the path. “I… will… NOT… leave… a soldier… BEHIND!”
Alucieus held a grim expression, watching Ijiro use all of his might to carry two men at once. He looked around him to see the others staggering onward, all with looks of desperation and hopelessness afflicting their faces; the few healers that survived the beachhead were manatapped, most of which struggled to walk, let alone stand. Gonthar looked onward in a focused attempt to see through the morning fog, with several corpses sprawled along his shoulders. The pain from Alucieus’ wound brought his gaze down to his trembling hand, and he lifted his bloodstained gauntlet away from his wound to grimace at all of his blood that slowly leaked down his side; with morale quickly crumbling, deep down he knew they wouldn’t last another hour at this rate.
“Gonthar…” Alucieus turned to the Sunwalker, who wearily gazed back over at him. “We can’t continue without food and rest. This is where we make our stand.”
“If the Legion catches up to us…”
“Either we stand and fight, or slowly die off from running.” The paladin stood as straight as he could, but his own wounds were starting to get the better of him. “I’m tired of running.” A few soldiers finally collapsed in the grass beneath their feet, anxious to get even a few moments of rest. But something wasn’t sitting right with Alucieus, as he turned to gaze down the direction from which they came; this land was strangely familiar. They barely faced any demons once they moved further off the coast, but their looming presence was enough to force them on the move. Whenever they turned in a direction, a wall of demons in the distance changed their course. The Burning Legion was toying with them; they were herding them to walk in circles until they all died from exhaustion. “Ijiro.” Alucieus commanded, turning to the Hunter. “I’m counting on you to get us some food. We won’t last the day without it.”
“Alright.” The Hunter slowly dropped the corpse onto the ground beside Varkol. “I’ll need four more to help carry game back to camp. Who’s with me?” Several weary soldiers approached him, exchanging few words before they began to slowly tread off into the mist. Alucieus’ grimace remained constant as he watched them disappear, fearing they would never return.
“Get the wounded up that hill. Gather the dead. We need some semblance of a fortress up by the time Ijiro returns.” Alucieus shouted his command at the rest of his forces, snapping them out of their exhausted stupor. “Let’s move out!”
