The Burden of Destiny | Sequel to The Aura Within

18 | The Imperial General

Fort Zen. Quite infamous for its other name: the Bloody Purgatory.

That name came about because of its strong connection to war. All of Kanto's bloodiest battles have been fought on the grounds of Fort Zen. Superstitions were made if simply by the name alone. A battle that breaks out there was bound to have the most casualties. Any soldier who was unfortunate enough to die in battle that took place on the Bloody Purgatory would have their souls bound there, unable to move on. The last known battle here had taken place several hundreds of years ago, and less than a handful of soldiers survived to tell the tale.

The Rota Knights confidently made their march toward Fort Zen. Once news of an attempted attack on the city of Terapago reached General Hayes's attention, he was quick to send his soldiers to intercept the enemy before they could reach their target. Based on the intel his spies managed to obtain, a company made up of Obsidian Knights was being led by a general named Darnic Arundel. He was notorious for his sadistic nature that was hidden under his posh demeanor. It made sense since he was the one who trained Sir Wells Hopkins, the man that led the attack on Solaceon Village. All it took was the sight of fear to set him off.

Not long after, the Rota Knights arrived at Fort Zen. The air felt humid as the sun above them shined harsher than usual. Not a single cloud was in sight. Having a battle in chaparral territory on a hot summer day sounded like a recipe for disaster. Dealing with the Obsidian Knights was one thing. A sudden wildfire was the last thing anyone wanted to worry about.

All of the Rota Knights were in their positions as they prepared for the interception. Moments later, they heard the sound of unison footsteps approaching them from the front. A sea of black-armored knights came into view, including the man wearing his decorated uniform that was leading them. Mounted knights from the Rota Knights stood in a straight line with Nicholas and Thorin in the front. Their faces remained stern once both forces came face to face with each other.

Darnic's egotistical smirk remained on his lips as he hopped off his Ryhorn. The tension in the air became unsettling.

"Two forces meet at last on the grounds where all of the bloodiest battles take place." Darnic ran a hand through his mauve hair. "It's almost poetic, no?"

"Guess you've heard of the kind of reputation this place has." Thorin scoffed at the general. "Sorry to disappoint, but we ain't plannin' on getting that messy."

"I beg to differ, good sir," Darnic disagreed in a patronizing manner. "You all stand in the way of King Claudius's conquest. That alone rewards you with death to every single one of you. Terrible, agonizing death."

"If it means keeping you away from the people of Terapago, we will gladly do anything to drive you out." Nicholas unsheathed his newly acquired sword. "Claudius will not succeed in his conquest. We will make sure of it."

Darnic's smirk became sinister. "We'll see about that."

With that, both forces send the signal to attack. The Rota Knights and the Obsidian Knights clashed with one another as they immediately engaged in battle. It was easy to differentiate between new recruits and experienced veterans. The maneuver, the skill, and the tactics varied among everyone. Those that slipped up were guaranteed their own death.

Hope never would have imagined herself in a battle alongside knights. The adrenaline pumping through her veins kept her body moving at a rapid pace. She swung her sword cutting down anyone that tried to attack her. It was like her life depended on it. Thoughts and emotions needed to be kept to a minimum, that much she knew. She couldn't afford to be distracted, not when it could kill her if she wasn't on her guard.

Riolu remained by her side sending his own attacks at the Obsidian Knights and their Pokémon. He was grateful that Hope was cool and collected enough to fight like there's no tomorrow. It would be a shame if she reacted just like the new soldiers fresh from boot camp: scared, sloppy, and pitiful. Those that hesitated to take a life during battle-- no, during war, were weak. Weakness was the bane in the art of war, often reflected by those who were killed without fighting back.