Dennis looked at all of the men and women standing by with all of them getting on their mounts to begin the quest at hand.
"Seems like you decided to come along." Bronn laughed mirthfully as he looked at him. "Your horse is right over there."
He looked at wherever he was pointing, and truth be told, a horse. A horse with brown hide, speckled with white marks, and sporting a rustic gold mane.
"Looks rather puny, don't you think?"
"Don't let the looks fool you. It may be lame, but it still runs fast as if it was waiting inside it's stable, waiting for the door to open and run straight to the finish line."
Dennis only pursed his lips as he looks at the horse, doubt spreading across his mind the more he thinks about it.
Nonetheless, he mounted it and looked at the party. Diverse faces that made him wonder why they're risking their lives. Faces tend to have a way to tell one's past.
He counted 14, making him the 15th member in this party. The aged sellsword buckled the horse and trots off with them.
"Keep a strong eye, lads." He yelled. "Monsters be afoot in this lands, and who knows if they're on our sides."
The foreigner gulped at the sound of that.
Xxxxx
Hours passed since the group left the tavern to find any traces of the Necromancer. All of them know that they shouldn't just run in and fight, and it'll be nothing more but a pointless suicide then.
Any man would be bored out of there mind without a single stretch of entertainment, but they had their ways to pass the time, such as among the likes of Dennis, looking across the greenery and with his comrades.
From what he saw, they were mixed from different species, and from different professions. Among the horses, he found three of them were Dwarves, five female Elves, at least two Orcs, and finally, the contingency of men that included him.
All was going well until he heard someone whistling to them, someone not too far away.
Everyone looked over and found a sizable group of Kuroinu. Numbers spanning at least 20-25 men, led by an adult man with silver hair.
The man was decently armored for the likes of the soldier, wearing a plated vest underneath that jacket, and with gauntlets that protected his arms.
Judging by that cheeky grin Bronn has plastered on his face, the rest of the party can only assume he had a history with him.
"Arcus!" He yelled as the man galloped over on his mount. "What brings you here? You're not the type of man that would take a scouting job for the sake of it."
Arcturus only chuckled at that little nickname. "It's been a rather boring day, Bronn. Truth be told, I'm rather curious about this 'Necromancer' that people keep on talking about."
As the two men carried their conversation further, Dennis turned away and grabbed something from his pockets: a small stone as big as clear as the water, almost like a ball of glass.
He looked into the orb and warged into the tiny little spectacle of what he sees.
Other than the grassy green fields they're in, he scoured the landscape, looking for anything of interest.
From that, he found the Necromancer, slaughtering an encampment of a Black Dog raiding party. He couldn't help but grimace as he sees them surrounded by undead, stabbed, hacked, and meeting their bloody ends. The spectacle too violent to even describe properly.
Around that, he looked to see if there's any villages and towns at risk of the ever growing undead army. He found one: an outpost far from them, but not for long.
He stopped looking at the ball and shook his head to wave away the slight daze he felt and looked at the two men.
"Guys, I saw him!" He yelled out. "I saw the Necromancer!"
Bronn and Arcturus stopped their chatter and looked at him dead in the eyes.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes! I saw him slaughtering a camp. There's an outpost over there, and if we don't do something about it, everyone's dead!"
Arcturus' face only became indescribable, he blinked rapidly in his stupor as he looked. "What did it look like?"
"The outpost at the top of the hills, one at the highest point. Looked more of a settlement to be, but that could be his next target."
"How did you know?" He asked him. "We're standing here and yet here you are, knowing more."
Dennis simply said nothing other than showing the stone he has on his hand.
"This outpost..." He began. "Is it the one on top of a hill? the one that looks more of a... fortress."
Dennis simply nodded to that, he put the stone back in his pack and looked over.
"What's your name, stranger?"
"Arcturus... Ser Arcturus Lionsmane... You?"
"Dennis Whaiteley Moore."
With the pleasantries all given out, Arcturus turned to his men, and charged onward to the horizon. Bronn wasted no time and followed him with the party, none asking questions for it is already obvious to what's going on: The men led by Arcturus, is to reinforce the outpost. In Dennis's own mind, it equated to the scouting party, to prove if the Necromancer is real, for the undead horde might as well be rumors.
He gulped a bit in fear. With these things adding up, it's clear that it's not a rogue mage gathering a wily bunch of dead men, but an actual threat. A man with an army that never rests or tire, and always growing bigger with every kill... this means only one thing.
"War..." He whispered to himself.
XXXXXXXXXXX
"BACK OFF, YOU WILY PIECES OF SHIT!!!" A lady yelled at the top of her lungs, holding onto a black spear as 5 of the mercenaries surround her.
They laughed mockingly as they got closer before one man ran up at the tip.
"A woman like you doesn't deserve to be a commander!" He spat. "You don't know how to hold a spear! The only thing you're good at it is just being a pretty, golden haired whore!"
The lady only gritted her teeth as she hold on to said weapon. As the men laughed, she decided to end the debacle be simply stabbing him straight in the chest; the poor man was unable to see the danger before it was too late, nor was he able to draw his blade. He can only look at her in his final, shock filled moments as she pulled it out... He slumped down to his knees, and fell to the dirt.
"ANYONE ELSE?!?!??!?" She screamed at them.
The mercenaries only glared at her, the four ones left drew their weapons as they move in forward to punish her.
"What is the meaning of this?"
They stopped dead in their tracks, their anger filled sneers turned into a grimace dripping with cold sweat and fear. They slowly turned, and to their horror, it was him.
"S-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-sir Tywin!" One stammered out as his legs quaked.
Tywin only glared at all of them, while his face simply remained calm, his eyes betrayed that demeanor. He only walked to them, like a lion prowling for it's next meal.
"Can any of you explain to me why you four are down here instead of looking out? " He asked as he loomed over the fat, bare armored Black Dog. "And what was this about the 'Golden haired whore' that you boys were mentioning?"
"Y-you see Sir." He said. "She is a girl, a lady. A lady doesn't that deserve armor and a spear."
The woman growled at him, she grabbed her spear and prepared the strike... only to back down as she saw the older man's face.
"Do you know who she is...?" He looked back at the man.
"Who sir...?"
Tywin pursed his lips as his eyes shaped another glare. He stepped on his shoe, making that fat bastard squeal horrendously as it was his own soft feet against the iron plated one.
"Her name..." He began. "Is Johanna Lionsmane... Sister to Arcturus Lionsmane... and Daughter to Tywin Lionsmane, and Tywin Lionsmane is me! Don't you know that?!"
The mercenary shrinks in terror, and from the wretched stink that now followed, it is no longer the usual sweat and cum that he has, but the humiliation of a man fouling his own brown pants. Tywin removed his armored foot and glared him down.
"Get out, and do your job at the bell tower. Get yourselves washed and changed, and don't forget to get someone to get your dead friend out of here. We'll end up having more dead men fighting among your petty little squabbles than dead men fighting to the last."
They quickly gave a nod and ran off as fast as they can.
"How are the reinforcements coming? I suspect Volt comes here with at least with a hundred to a thousand men." He turned to face her, walking over just by the dead body as if it meant nothing.
"None so far..." Johanna said with a sigh, fingers entwining at the spear's shaft.
Johanna can only look at her father, how his face dropped even more in anger and in frustration, and she can only imagine how hard it might as well be. She knew him more as she was the one closer to him than her brother, yet both of them know one thing in common: he's always a man of precautions, always preparing for the worst, and planning for the worst.
She isn't sure whether to believe if the Necromancer truly was there. She mostly believes it might as well be something else. She heard it herself from ever since a group of raiders came to them, seeking shelter, and always blabbing about the Necromancer.
As doubtful as she is, that's as much evidence there is, and if her father is this serious of holding this outpost down, then this is a far more serious issue.
"At this rate, we only have your brother to rely on to bring them here. That, or one of us goes out there, asking for the raiders and bandits to help... Might as well be the only reason those whores could come in use."
"What about them?"
He only gave her a questioning look at that, who else could come? The ravens he sent all across the continent might as well be dead, poached, or to never return. The lords, the vassals, and not even Volt and his cohorts are at least willing to quell this threat as soon as possible.
As the two of them think, they ended up drifting to the days before all of this. Sure, there was the war with Olga and Celestine, but even then, he appreciated that everyone's bodies lay dead, giving their last in the glory of battle. Now, the only bodies that lay are the dead slaves, rebels, and the women that lie either on the ground or bed, fucked out of their minds as they scream in ecstasy.
The aged man remembers, and so does everyone. Now, an undead horde waits to strike at any time. With no one knowing their numbers, it's only a matter of time until they lay siege. 500 men walk among this outpost, and now their numbers fall from drunken brawls and petty disputes.
A tiny sliver of desperation came to him. If he is to raise the numbers, he'll have to send his beloved daughter out there, and risk her getting defiled in the broad outdoors by these same men. Another alternative will be the other ones, three to be exact: The Free Brotherhood, The Resistance, or The House of Gods.
"Father!" Johanna yelled as she grabbed him by the shoulder. "He's here!"
Tywin barely had any time to recuperate as he felt his own son giving him a headbutt to his armored gut. Yet, he didn't feel angry, but relieved to see it was only him.
"I got reinforcements!" Arcturus said with a smile as he put his hands on his hips. "The only problem is that..."
He can only give a teasing smirk as both of them realized what that meant.
XXXX
The sun has now begun to set, and nightfall now approaches.
Dennis looked at everyone as he put on his metal greaves and gauntlets. As far as armor came, he chose the lighter ones, opting for a padded gambeson with a mithril vest underneath.
Before he put the helmet on, he made sure his weapons were secured and walked right out to the oupost's streets.
Despite it being an outpost, it was more of a fortress, if not; a settlement. With the stone walls that surround five masoned towers, it is clear that this outpost plays an important part during times of conflict.
It sat on top of a steep sloped hill, making it hard for enemies charge up during a fight, and behind was a rampart that solved the steep slope for allies. The crossbowmen are well protected as the walls were tall, and they have windows just big enough for them to see through and fire with the risk of them getting shot being reduced greatly. The towers all have telescopes that they can use to survey the lands around, and with the bells, they can prepare the garrisons for an incoming attack, and to call for reinforcements when needed.
All in all, this outpost is an important piece for warfare, and as the foreigner patrolled the streets, he couldn't understand why someone as important as Volt is acting like this doesn't matter at all. If this outpost falls, it would change the tide of war.
"Looks like someone needed a stroll."
Bronn laughed cheerfully as he decided to walk with him, a mug of ale in hand and dressed with the light of Steel.
"For a foreigner, you sure are fine with being a soldier. Don't you find it odd that you're essentially fighting for something that might as well be out of your hands."
Dennis can only shrug as he gives the sellsword a good knock on the shoulder. Both of them acted like nothing matters now other than... well... anything good besides whores and an impending undead invasion.
"Is it okay if I ask?"
Bronn merely gave him a wave of his hand. "Go ahead. You're a decent fellow. If we're going to die tonight, might as well do it now when I'm making a new friend."
"How well do you know Arcturus?"
The sellsword stopped in his tracks. He looked at Dennis, and wagged a finger at his face.
"That early? No! That's cheating!" He teased before downing the booze. "But I might as well be. We known each other for about... five years. He's a good fighter, I tell you. Training with swords when he's only a young boy."
Both of them chuckled together, but both had different reasons: Bronn chuckled fondly, for it was true. Yes, it was vague, but it's rather personal, and he just said what's needed to know. Dennis merely chuckled in amusement as he thought of a couple of things in his head.
'Jaime Lannister? Is that you? I might as well be in Game of Thrones.' Was one of them.
"Now, it's my turn." The sellsword said as he looked at him. "You're a foreigner of some sort, right? You don't look you came from the East... You look like you're from the West. West beyond this continent."
Dennis pondered on it. In truth; it's obvious he didn't come from here, but where? That's the one thing he's not willing to share. He enjoys the thought of sleeping by himself without having to worry about... the monsters that crawl around from beyond any human reasoning.
He can still remember those horrid times... Yet, what keeps him up is something far more serious.
"Where I came from... I didn't come from... there."
"Go on~!" The sellsword egged on.
"I came from another world."
The sellsword's face quickly turned from a joyful one, to a face full of confusion.
"What?"
"Look, I'll explain everything. It's--"
He covers his ears as the horn blared, and the bells chimed in a shrill cacophony.
"EVERYONE TO ARMS!!! THE HORDE IS HERE!!! EVERYONE, SECURE THE WALLS!"
Dennis looked at Bronn, both of them wasting no time as they put on their helmets and quickly ran off to secure the the perimeter.
"If both of us survive, I'll explain everything!"
"I'm afraid that can wait!"
XXXX
Both of them ran as fast as they can to join their brothers-in-arms. They dodge and weave through the scampering feets of their fellow men as they both arm themselves, and also securing the wall.
Dennis peered through the little window to see how much are there, and by the Gods... They're uncountable. They were hidden in the dark blanket of the night sky, yet with the writhing bodies that are currently marching ahead, it's not an illusion, they really are there.
He gritted his teeth as he backed off just as a crosbowman took his place. Dennis looked around, adrenaline flowing through as he sees the ranged units nocking their flaming arrows.
"Loose!" Johanna yelled as the arrows fly.
As the arrows rained down to the other side, he and Bronn later ran down and joined to the growing men stationed in front of the large gate. Tywin stood at the side with his two children, and followed with a good stack of ranged units at the flanks.
Elves nocked their arrows, then the men followed suit, then the dwarves lined up with their cannons at the front.
"Shield wall! Form a barricade!!!"
Shieldmen followed, they march to the front of the infantry, and they plant their shields firmly to the ground. The ones with spears followed suit and lined it up, completing the phalanx.
Dennis felt cold sweat creeping down from his head as he hears the faint clattering steps from outside get closer and closer. The howls from whatever might be there, and the growls of undead only added more tension than it already has... They waited, and they prepared for them to break the door.
"Tywin Lionsmane?" They knocked at the gate. "Come out, we have things to talk about..."
"Why should I talk to a man that slaughters men, much less taking them from their graves to die a second time in your conquest!" He yelled. "Give me one good reason why I should."
"Because you're outnumbered." The necromancer said in a matter-of-fact tone. "I've been working on this sort of craft ever since I've been exiled, and when I kill every single one of you, I'll just get more of them... the dead rising up to reclaim this continent."
Everything went silent. Everyone tried to wrap their heads around that sort of declaration.
"And I can give you another reason why... Why did the lion bow to mindless dogs? Why did it bow to them? Why would a prideful creature worry about the opinions of dogs that can barely hold their weight."
Tywin and his two children gritted their teeth from that remark. One man to shatter their pride, and to rub it in just like that, as if their nobility didn't even matter.
"I'm not asking you to bend the knee, and answer to me... I'm asking if you're willing to join me... Has it ever occurred to you that you can't keep your eyes away from your daughter, fearing she'll end up as nothing but a 'Royal Breeding Bitch'? Has it ever occurred that your son's mastery of the sword has been disgraced with a cheap blade, while they get to keep it as if it's their right?"
The rain poured down upon them, and the air grew more tense. Dennis pursed his lips and gulped in fear; he maybe a fighter, but he never fought against an army. With an army that never rests, and with ones that came from the grave, didn't spare any anxious thoughts. He gripped onto the handle of his axe, and prepared himself.
Tywin glared at the door with all of his might, as if his own pride was shattered by the man over there. He didn't let them charge, but he left the arrows nocked, he made his men stay in that formation. He walked to the door like a man with pride.
He stood there, and didn't open it. He just stood there, glaring at the necromancer tthrough the holes present in the door.
"Are those dogs truly loyal to you?" He asked him. "Your soldiers, the ones most loyal to you... Aren't they in danger? They might as well be stabbed in the back just so those dogs can lay their wives, and nothing more."
"But is your men any different?" Tywin snapped back. "Did they ask to be brought from their graves, to fight in a war to die again?! You act like you have a claim to the throne!"
"I do not... For is this what our ancestors wanted? Did they live in these lands, only to see that this is how it went? When they were here, it was something else... They fought in wars in the name of glory and honor, now look at your men. What kind of war did they fight? A war against untrained rapists? How could they lose to weak men...?"
Tywin turned to his men. Upon all the men stationed there, he saw armor, armor shining like gold, and standing in pride like lions! He remembered the days when he and his house stood with pride as the sun sets upon their home! The loyalty they had to Celestine, they never forgot, and neither will he. He remembers the men fighting in wars, and he never forgot how they died with pride and honor.
Once he saw gold. Golden warriors that lined the ranks... now: he sees few, and the rest... are those dogs that ruined these lands.
"What will you do now...? Great, Golden Lion...?"
Tywin looked at the door again. With a huff, he walked back. "Open the door!"
Everyone looked at him. Confusion, and horror strewn all over their faces as he said that word.
"Didn't you hear me?!" He yelled again. "OPEN THE DOOR! OPEN THE DOOR AND LET THEM IN!!!"
The two men looked at him in bewilderment... but they did as they were told. They ran over to the door, and they opened it.
Never did the groans and snarls from the dead sound clearer, along with their eerie silence... The necromancer stood in the front, with the green blade in his hand. He marched in with his horde. Tywin drew his sword, a golden blade that shone like the blazing sun.
Then he bent the knee.
Everyone watched on as they saw him, kneeling down to the robed man like a king. A few grit their teeth, anxious as they thought that this will be the end. A fight that is actually a suicide.
"I pledge my blade to you..."
Kazuma nodded. He raised his sword and placed it on his shoulder. "Arise, Tywin."
He stopped kneeling, and he did what he was told.
"In the name of these lands, I declare that WE fight back against those dogs! No longer! No longer shall we see these dogs ruin this sacred land!"
Dennis turned. He saw the gold armored knights lay their shields, their spears held to the side, he saw the Black Dogs and whoever is loyal to them, backing away with fear strewn to their faces. It's all clear now for him. He looked back at the men, and ran up to their side; he is not planning to be trampled tonight.
"They have shamed and humiliated this country! Look at what they've did to our brothers and sisters! Is this what our ancestors fought for in that war?! Did they fight to the end, only to see this result?! This isn't victory, it's a disgrace!"
The Golden Knights turned around, and reformed their formation. They marched to their real enemy, the ones backed up to the other side of this outpost.
"We will break their laws! We will break those dogs! We will break them like how they broke this country!"
Then they charged. They charged straight to the mercenaries and to their loyalists. Orcs roared along with Beastmen, and they stood their ground to fight! They swung their weapons around in an effort to fight back, but alas, it was too much. They were quickly overrun.
Many of them surrendered, many of them without putting up a fight. No swords were drawn, and they begged to be spared, but it fell on deaf ears, as they too were slaughtered.
"Why did you do this, father? Was there something to gain?"
Arcturus stood by his Father's side as he said those words.
"Because, son... The lions may rise once again..."
xxxxxxxxxxx
A/N: Yeah... I may have had Game of Thrones when I made this chapter. And regardless of how Season 8 turned out, I'm not getting into it.
I'm only hoping that you enjoyed.
