Aurelian was walking with the reins of a steed in his hands, Luther and Thomas by his side, while their knights were following behind. Farther in the back, and in front of them, an endless colony of soldiers marched ahead. Riding was forbidden, as it would cause chaos in the march; it was to be allowed only in a matter of urgency.
"Godfather, why do you seem so lost in thought? Uncle, you too?" Aurelian asked as he led the steed. They would soon be passing through the city itself, heading towards its gates.
"Sigh...Boy, do you know what those spears could have done 30 years ago? It is a pity and a blessing that we have you now, and not in the past. The previous Aurelian did not have this ability; he was not god's chosen." Thomas said as he patted him on the shoulder. Many masters had died, crippling their military power, simply because of dragons.
"I understand...Uncle, how does the armour feel? Let me know if there is anything I can improve. Your halberd as well." Aurelian said as he looked towards Thomas. He had crafted living silver armour for his relatives, as well as weapons. Thomas was clad in silver, with various parts of his armour glowing in blue due to the imbued colour. The armour itself seemed to be alive, as the serpents and other engraved details were moving, akin to being alive. On their flags, as well as their armour, the Mountain Aure was engraved, with a Silver Roc on its peak, while a massive crimson serpent had coiled itself around the base of the Mountain.
This was now the crest of the Mograine Archduchy; its leader was Aurelion Mograine. Louis had passed the mantle with happiness; however, he was still in charge of Emberfall and the rest of the cities. Their territory had expanded, the people's lives had become better, but there was always work to be done, and the man oversaw every city, including the Holy City itself, along with his wife and daughter-in-law - Aurelia Mograine.
"It fits like a glove. Do not worry about it. Look at Luther; he wears only a robe you've crafted for him. He must be feeling smug now that he is a Master...bah, this brat!" Thomas said as he slapped Luther's shoulder, causing him to grin. A Master did not need to wear an Armour; his presence itself was powerful, and once they went all out, they manifested their Armours that were a pure display of their Techniques. This was how masters were, and as said before, each armour was unique but extremely durable.
It was unknown how large the army was; however, it was said to be 800,000 strong, and it was one of the many that were departing out of the city. The Empire was mobilising, and some of them would fuse, creating millions-strong armies. This was the size of an Empire in this world, and it still had more to go; they had not gone all out just yet. The army that Aurelian was marching with, however, was one of the main armies as it consisted of Elites. Mobilisation of the best soldiers took time, but they were to fuse with other such armies and become a spearhead, with many Masters in its ranks. Currently, there were three masters here that Aurelian knew of - Severin, Venelus and Luther.
"Make way, Princess Eleonora and her guards will march alongside us! Get into a line of three and move to the right!" Luther suddenly said as he heard something and ordered his subordinates. The 150 personal guards of Aurelian - all experts- moved in unison as a squadron of 300 personal Imperial Guards in the back was making their way to march beside them.
Flags fluttered, and soon, the Aurelians were marching side by side with Royal Troops; their crest was an arm, clenching so hard that blood was flowing down. The Roan Empire was the epitome of warriors, a military country, while the Salerion Empire was said to be one of scholars. Of course, stereotypes, but it was true.
Aurelian said nothing as the princess soon marched by their side, a golden armour with various engravings donned on her, her hair let out freely while she looked him in the eyes and nodded. Nodding back, he turned ahead and kept marching; they were all leading their steeds.
Fucking imperial politics and their politicians; they will be the end of me!
It's not like he did not know the meaning of this; he was not that dumb. Thomas and Luther knew him well enough, so they put a hand on his shoulders, gripping them hard to calm him down. They knew what was going on behind this indifferent face of their Godson and nephew.
"Godfather, when battle happens, fight far from us. Your fights will be too dangerous for me, Uncle Thomas and the rest of us. We don't want a Master to fight you near us, lest we all perish in the shockwaves." Aurelian said as he received a nod from Luther. Luther was the one supposed to guard him; however, if a Master were to engage Luther near Aurelian, the situation would turn grim. The shockwaves from such a fight would kill many. Plus, a Master of the enemy would immediately engage him; they would not let Luther, a Master, run free on the battlefield. Even if Aurelian was the strongest Expert, it was common knowledge that a Master would be able to handle him; the gap between those realms was too much.
"I will do so. Thomas will be in charge of the guards while I am away. Look, we have entered the city...it looks tragic." Luther said as his eyes pointed towards the sight in front of them. The princess and the rest of her guards - experts- heard it, but they did not say anything. It was a tragic sight indeed. They were not talking about the architecture, but the people.
Civilians were on the sides of the road, throwing water on the ground, as well as flowers. Guards stood near them, keeping a line that would not allow them to cross. Mothers wept, as some of their sons were somewhere in the ranks or were already on the line; married women looked worried. There were also men among them, younglings, elders, cripples, men of various professions. It was because of them that the guards were mainly stationed, as they tried to enter the ranks and join the army.
There was a lot of desperation and tragedy; the feeling of loss was evident in many people's eyes, along with one of fear. They knew the mortality rate was not just extremely high; it was almost certain. After all, everyone knew that the same story happened to the Salerion Empire while it was at its peak; even to this day, they had not fully recovered in terms of Masters, and they had graves as big as cities to honour the dead. In the past, they would've felt pity for their counterparts, even a bit of superiority, but it was now gone - they were going through the same situation.
Aurelion looked around, sadness evident in his eye; the left one seemed to be long-blinded, as his iris was grey, even if it wasn't as such, just a defect of his battle with Seviras and tricky healing. His armour was fully silver, with lines of black and gold; due to the engraved core, the mana crystals were glowing while every engraving of silver was moving, akin to being alive.
Usually, he would be appreciating the architecture, yet what point was there to do so when tragedy such as this was happening? He could see men crying to be let go, so they could join, yet the guards were firm, even if their gazes were complicated. Being around so much sorrow, tears and desperation had its effect, as under those helmets, some shed tears and others barely held it in. They themselves were impatient and wanted to leave as well, to march and fight side by side with their countrymen, yet someone was to hold the ranks here, to keep discipline alive.
"Let me go! My sons, my sons are at the front line! I have already buried one; let me go and fight! I can be of help!"
"Please, let me go, I beg of you! I will not be in the way, even if I have one hand; my right hand is stronger than anything!"
"Let me go! Let me pass; I will not stay behind walls while our country needs us!"
"How dare you! Let us pass; there are younger men there! How can you ask us to stay and wait behind the walls!"
"Unhand me, you idiot! My sons are fighting; let me fight and die beside them!"
The guards stood, unshaken, their hands spread as they kept the line, not allowing anyone to pass and only pushing away people when needed. No violence was to be used; those were civilians, people who wanted to join. Everyone was losing relatives somewhere; everyone wanted to help and end this calamity...
It was the wisps of tragedy and sorrow seen in the eyes of people that made Aurelian's heart heavy. No one was made of stone; even if your heart had been tempered, it was different when you saw this sight...especially the one of mothers and fathers who had faced loss already but were still here. Some of the soldiers were friends of their resting kin; others were their siblings...
The flowers fell silently, as they stacked one atop another. Those were not flowers to bless their path; those were flowers that paid respects to the dead, and to the soldiers marching now, as it was almost certain that 90% of them would not return...yet they marched, in line, disciplined...Even if their hearts were heavy, even if their wives and fiancées, their children and parents waited for their return. They marched, even if it meant certain death.