“A pain filled scream rent the air as Kaufman attempted to force the portal to remain open. He gave everything, his very essence to his god, but it was not enough. The portal flickered and faded as he died, and his soul was slowly extinguished. Through the agony, as his vision blurred, he caught a glimpse of divinity. It was glorious and shameful, beautiful and hideous. In that last moment of existence, he seized a small part of his god, a sliver of divinity, as the connection between them was cut off and the portal closed forever.”

Chapter 80

The silence of the outskirts of Aachen was broken by the clopping of horse hooves against the paved stone road. Kicking up a cloud of dust, a trio of riders were making their way down the wide highway to western city.

They traveled alone, only sharing the road with the occasional, slow moving merchant wagon carrying supplies to the garrison.

At the front rode a young woman. Her, long brown hair pulled back in a braid that reached her waist. She was wearing light brown leather armor with brass studs and a longbow in her hand.

Made from rare black yew from the southern empire, a Rank 2 material, the longbow was nearly as tall as her. It had runes and glyphs running along the length, enhancing its durability and allowing it to be drawn with the strength of a Rank 4, well beyond what even the rare wood is capable of without breaking.

Next to the archer was a large man, tall and well built. He was handsome, with short brown hair, and the beginnings of a beard were visible.

He was wearing a set of plate mail, with its own shimmering enchantments worthy of a Rank 4. Over his armor he wore a silk tabard, with the symbol of a noble house on the front, a salmon leaping from a river.

Across his back he wore a large, two-handed sword, the hilt wrapped in black leather to match the scabbard.

The final member of the trio was a smaller man, dressed in yellow clerics robes with a steel breastplate covering his torso. He was reading a book as he rode, barely paying attention to the road in front of him. A plain looking young man, he had thick glasses over his eyes and a scholarly air to about him.

“I thought we would be able to see the wall by now.” The young woman said, turning to her companion.

The large man looked at her, smiling while idling scratching his newly grown facial hair.

“We should be able to see it soon.” He looked up into the sky, judging the time by the sun. “We would have been there earlier, except…” The large man trailed off, looking at the cleric beside them. The cleric was still paying some attention, because he looked up at the comment.

“You’ll be thankful we stopped to pick up this gift from the Bishop, Gunther, when you’re facing down a horde of undead and you need me to ‘Turn’ them.” The young cleric said, gripping his holy symbol where it hung from his neck, a seven-pointed sun of Primaris.

It was filled with divine energy that sparkled in the yellow sunlight. The rank 3 holy symbol had been a gift from the Bishop at Elbing to prepare his apprentice for tackling the undead of Aachen.

“Of course we will, Martin. Don’t mind Gunther, he’s just eager to see a friend of ours. Aren’t you?” The archer said, turning to Gunther and giving him a look that said, ‘you better agree with me’.

“You’re right! Erinn’s right, I’m just excited! We’re more than happy to have stopped at Elbing.” Gunther said hastily, not wanting to start an argument with his companion.

“Of course. I’m looking forward to meeting this ‘Wilhelm’ as well. I’ve heard so much about him from you both, it’s like I already know him.” Martin said politely, looking back down at his book.

“I can’t believe it’s been four months since we last saw him.” Erinn said, looking back to the road in front of them. The lush and verdant countryside had gradually changed to a dusty and desolate landscape. They hadn’t seen a hint of green in miles.

It made Erinn worried for Wil. If it was this bad, miles away for the city, how terrible would Aachen be? For someone to spend so much time in this place would be depressing, when compared to the fertile fields and forests of the East.

“Yeah, but at least we’re here now. I can’t wait to show Wil how strong I’ve gotten. He missed out.” Gunther said, letting his mana run loose in his body for a moment. The pressure from his Rank 4 power caused the wind to suddenly stir, whipping dust up from the road and striking Martin in the face.

With a huff, the younger priest shot the large man an irritated look, before taking his glasses off and wiping them on his robes.

“Sorry Martin!” Gunther said guiltily, trying to hide a grin at the results of his hard work.

“Maybe he hasn’t missed out on much, Aachen isn’t a picnic either. He could be as strong as us by now.” Erinn replied, although she doubted it.

They had both spent the last few months scouting the underground city near Whitewater, tracking the orcs movements through the tunnels and back to the eastern hills.

It had been a grueling campaign, with constant ambushes and multiple battles against goblins that outnumbered the humans 10 to 1 at times. It had only ended when they had raided the orc tribes in the East, inflicting enough causalities to ensure the orcs wouldn’t be a threat for several years at least.

They had both reached Rank 4, and the recovered loot had allowed them to not only equip themselves with armor and weapons suitable for their new rank, but Gunther had paid off much of his father’s debt.

Erinn had been sending money home to her family, the coin allowing them to live very comfortably in the north. They had even written to her about sending her younger brother to the academy. He had passed the entrance exam, and with her new wealth, they could now afford his tuition.

“I doubt it. Most of the fighting in Aachen is on the walls, while they wait for the clerics to repel the undead. Compared to the orcs, the worst thing he would have faced is this miserable environment. It’s clerics like me that are essential here, sorry to tell you.” Martin said, not looking up from his reading as he waved his hand vaguely around.

Erinn rolled her eyes at the priest, sharing a grin with Gunther.

They had met Martin in Whitewater, shortly after Wil had left for the west. He was only a Rank 1 when he arrived, hanging around in the back of their group to provide healing.

She hadn’t liked him at first. The cleric was intelligent, and the direct apprentice to the Bishop of Elbing, a powerful Rank 9 cleric. He came from a rich merchant family, just a step away from nobility.

He was also arrogant, stuck up and judgy, having been sent to whitewater to gain ‘experience’.

Erinn suspected that the bishop had enough of the young man’s attitude and wanted to humble him. After months of campaigning together, the rough edges had been worn off the cleric, allowing his companions to tolerate his presence.

When they had told him they were heading to Aachen to meet with Wil, he had announced that he would be going their as well, feeling that they would need his help to survive. As much as they doubted it, they couldn’t turn down a Rank 3 cleric’s assistance and had agreed.

That was two weeks ago, and they were finally approaching Aachen and their friend.

“Well, regardless, the pay should be outstanding here. Gilman told me that she did six months on the wall, and she was rolling in coin afterwards!” Gunther said, changing the subject.

“Oh? When were you talking to Gilman?” Erinn asked, narrowing her eyes at Gunther.

“Just before we left, we had a drink to celebrate her promotion.” Gunther said, oblivious of the shifting mood.

“Did you now? You had a drink with that trollop did you?” Erinn hissed, her dislike for the other woman well known. Several times she had caught the other woman flirting with Gunther, even with Erinn standing right next to him!

“Yeah, she invited me while you were meeting with the commander. She wanted me to stay for dinner but...” Gunther trailed off, finally realizing where he had gone wrong. He slowly turned to look at her expression, his mind moving a mile a minute to think of a distraction.

Erinn and he had been together since shortly after the battle at Whitewater. Spending so much time together, it just sort of naturally happened. He hadn’t had a lot of experience with relationships in the past, usually he was too busy trying to earn enough coin to bail his father out of his gambling debts.

He could be slow and naive at times, but he wasn’t stupid. He needed something to take Erinn’s focus off Gilman, and fortunately, the perfect thing came along.

“But… look! It’s the wall, we’re finally here. Oh boy, I can’t wait to get settled and wash this dust off. Right, Martin? I bet you’re looking forward to seeing the wall as well, what with all the runes and glyphs? Right?” Gunther said, panicking and rambling in his attempt to change the subject.

Erinn knew what he was doing, but lucky for him, she was excited to see the wall as well, so she decided to let the conversation drop, for now. They would pick it up later.

The trio urged their horses forward.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

They entered the legion garrison a short while later. The bustling town was as busy as ever, with night only a couple days away. The streets were filled with soldiers, adventurers and merchants.

Loaded down wagons were bringing supplies to the wall, and Erinn was stunned by the number of inns and taverns the garrison hosted.

Gunther was more impressed by the blacksmiths and armorers that were located here. Every street was filled with the loud clanging of hammers hitting metal, as the crafts people were busy trying to fulfill orders for the many repairs and custom requests from the diverse clientele present in Aachen’s garrison.

Martin had finally looked up from his book, the sight of the ‘town’ having been enough to divert his interest. But it wasn’t until they spotted the tall stone Mage Guild Spire and the beautifully constructed cathedral across from it that the cleric’s excitement peaked.

The trio had spent enough time campaigning that they recognized the value of having equipment and supplies readily available. Often, they were forced to ‘make do’ with inferior quality goods, even when they had the coin to spend.

Gunther’s old armor had been a mishmash of pieces, barely held together. It hadn’t been until they traveled through the Capital that he could buy a new set and retire his grandfather’s old armor.

Likewise, potions and consumables were in short supply. Healing potions were the first to sell out with every shipment, forcing them to be thrifty with recovery. Walking through the garrison, it seemed that as long as they had coin, anything was available for purchase.

Moving slowly through the crowded streets, they followed a set of signs leading them to the auxiliary section of the garrison. The streets here were filled with adventurers and freelance mercenaries like them.

Warriors, rangers, thieves, even mages and clerics packed the roads, moving between lodgings and shops. It was as if the garrison were making up for the dead city nearby with life and vitality. Thousands of auxiliaries were here in Aachen, all seeking fame and fortune.

Spotting a sign, Erinn led the trio to a two-story wooden building where they could register and get directions on their next steps. Tying their horses to the front, where they joined a long line of other mounts, they climbed the steps and entered.

Two hours later, thoroughly annoyed by the wait and the odious, rat faced man behind the counter, they led their horses to their assigned lodgings.

“Goddesses’ blood and bones, I’m glad that’s over. I was a minute away from reaching over that counter and choking that bas…” Erinn said, before she was interrupted by a polite cough next to her. Flushing red, she turned to the cleric beside her.

“Sorry Martin.”

“No need, I totally agree. Maybe not as blasphemously as you, but I’m happy to be out of there as well.” The cleric said, chuckling at his companion.

“It’s just over there.” Gunther said, pointing at a three-story building ahead, before getting a rough estimate of the current time from the sun that was swiftly moving towards the western horizon.

“We should have time for supper before that Auxiliary commander comes by to give us the run down on our duties.”

Grateful to finally be out of the sun and the dust, they piled into the building, finding their rooms and much needed baths. Refreshed and clean, they met again in the common room, sitting down at a table to enjoy their meal. The room was crowded with other new arrivals, the legion having assigned all of them to the same lodgings for ease.

The trio chatted with each other, while listening to the conversations around them for any useful information. Most of those present were the same as them, no idea what to expect aside from repelling the undead from the walls in two days’ time.

With their bellies full, they were enjoying their ale, and Martin his tea, in the noisy common room when they heard their new commander arrive.

With a loud ‘bang’, the common room door opened, startling the occupants. The noise settled down, as a man approached the front of the room from outside.

The commander was tall, with long, dark hair pulled back in a warrior’s topknot and a long sword strapped across his back, in the northern style. Wearing a set of banded, black leather armor, the trio could see the enchantments creating a shimmering haze around him from the mana fueling them.

What stood out most to the trio wasn’t the enchanted armor, or the pristine white fur cloak that he was wearing, or even his powerful, rank 4 mana. It was the fact that they knew him. The person who came to give them their orders and directions was Wil.