Rebirth System: Blood and Ash

The next morning at dawn.

Aric had met up with Aszer at the castle some hours ago. From there, he and the king rode to the Miredis stretch. Aside from Ezra’s Path, which ran through the heart of formidable kingdoms, Miredis also offered them a path to the kingdoms north of Valeria.

This northern road passed through the outskirts of three of these northern kingdoms, and when goods were brought to these kingdoms, they were transported to other kingdoms through Ezra’s Path. However, beyond these kingdoms was the Northern River.

The Northern River flowed into the Stygian Sea, which was the body of water that demarcated Valeria and the Northrend Empire.

The prince now stood, his face masked as his armor was being put on him, and around him was an army.

Men, horses, and banners—it reeked of war.

Yet the prince stood unphased in the vast sea of soldiers, the Byzeth forces sprawling in all directions, close to a thousand men strong.

The morning sun barely crept over the horizon, offering a pale glow on the glistening armor that was being fastened to his body. His own armor, gleaming metal with gold inlays, reflected the rising light, making him appear like a figure out of legend.

Around him, horses snorted and shifted, banners fluttered in the breeze, and the murmurs of soldiers mixed with the clinking of steel.

The armor was heavy, but Aric bore the weight with ease that made its weight insignificant. Each piece was carefuly placed on him by the armorers, the breastplate gleaming and etched with faint symbols of Valeria—symbols that now carried little meaning to him—at least that is what he made them belive.

He flexed his fingers, feeling the weight of the gauntlets, and listened to the sounds of the army preparing for battle. His eyes remained focused, mind sharp, though none could see the calculating thoughts behind the mask that concealed his face.

Tension rose as King Aszer Hait approached, mounted on a magnificent black warhorse draped in royal blue cloth adorned with the sigil of Byzeth. The king’s armor was less ornate, more practical, yet imposing all the same. Aszer’s eyes gleamed as he observed Aric, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

"Do you like the armor, Valerian?" Aszer’s voice cut through the noise, a subtle challenge in his tone.

Aric nodded, his gaze steady. "I am thankful for it, your grace. It is... fitting."

As the final piece of the armor was secured, Aric turned and mounted his own steed, a powerful black stallion with muscles rippling beneath its dark hide.

The horse was restless, its breath visible in the crisp morning air, but Aric’s steady hand kept it calm. He was then handed a thin, razor-sharp sword, its polished blade roaring light. Without hesitation, he mounted it onto his back, feeling the weight of the weapon resting between his shoulder blades.

Aszer watched the prince with an appraising eye. "Tell me, Valerian—how familiar are you with war?"

Aric glanced at the king, his expression unreadable beneath the mask. "I understand the concept," he said smoothly.

"Strategy, formations, logistics." His voice remained neutral, but in truth, Aric had fought in more wars than he cared to count in his past life. Battles where blood flowed like rivers, where lives were snuffed out like candles in a storm. He knew war intimately—perhaps better than anyone present.

The king raised an eyebrow, sensing something unspoken in Aric’s tone, but said nothing. Instead, he straightened on his horse and addressed the gathered army. His voice boomed across the ranks as he raised a hand, commanding their attention.

"Men of Byzeth!" Aszer called out. "This day marks the beginning of our strike against Valeria, a kingdom that has forgotten its northern borders and left its people vulnerable. But we shall remind them of our strength!" The soldiers roared in approval, raising their weapons in unison.

’Forgotten? What bullshit’ The prince thought

Aszer gestured toward Aric. "This man—your general—will lead this raid among your commanders. He shall be known only as ’General.’ His name is not to be spoken, and for those who know it, they shall never speak of it. His purpose here is singular: victory."

The title, though simple, carried mystery. No one but Aszer, some guards and a few trusted council members knew the true identity of the masked figure commanding them.

To the soldiers, Aric was simply the ’General,’ and the ambiguity suited Aric perfectly. His presence was meant to sow fear and uncertainty, both among the enemy and within the ranks.

Aric remained silent as the king’s words echoed through the crowd. Aszer then gave a sharp nod, signaling the beginning of their march. The banners lifted, the soldiers rallied, and the army began to move, the thunder of hooves and boots creating a deafening rumble that shook the earth beneath them.

Their destination: the northern settlements of Valeria.

A vulnerable cluster of towns that sat near the northern river, far from the heart of the empire, yet essential to its trade routes and defenses. Aric had carefully selected these locations to strike at—outskirts that, if left undefended, could cripple Valeria’s influence in the region.

These settlements were ripe for the taking, and the attack would send a clear message to the Valerian Empire.

That was what the prince had made the king believe.

Aszer, riding beside Aric, turned to him. "Your targets, Valerian. Do you truly believe the northern settlements will draw enough attention from the Empire?"

Aric’s gaze remained forward, calculating. "A strike from the north will rasie alarm of the men of winter seeking to be appeased. It will cause a commotion, but the hesitation we need aswell."

The king seemed to consider this for a moment before nodding in agreement. "Very well. We strike as you say." He glanced back at the marching soldiers, then at Aric. "But remember, Valerian—this is your test. Fail, and there will be consequences. Succeed, and you may yet prove your worth."

Aric’s eyes narrowed beneath the mask. "I never fail."

The storm of war was coming, and Aric was ready to unleash it.