If someone could distract themselves from that face of his, then they would notice that the young man was flying on an eagle as clouds went past them. The sunlight was reflecting off its metallic body. And even from far, far away, one could see the luster of the giant eagle. The Giant eagle’s body was not normal. It had a silver metallic body.
The young man flew on the majestic silver eagle as his long hair, and red robes fluttered in the air. After a few moments, suddenly, he arrived at a clearing in the sky as sounds of fighting, yelling, metal clashing, and wall crumbling mixed in and assaulted his ears.
The young man’s face's calm and cool demeanor changed to one of ferociousness as he, with his eagle, started diving down.
As he came closer, the ground became more clearer. Below, two troops were fighting with swords and spears, trebuchets were being loaded, and sage towers were getting moved. Fifty meters above the ground, another two groups were fighting in the air.
As the young man on the eagle descendent further, the two groups in the battle were more explicit in his eyes, along with the vied details of blood and gore on the battlefield. Manly among the two gropes, one was attacking, and another was defending, defending a castle in the middle of a crystal-clear lake.
The real battle was commencing outside the lake in the empty land as blood, flesh, and severed body parts tainted the natural green grass in red. But by using a genius formation, the elite of the attackers already cut through the battlefield and invaded the long stone bridge, connecting the castle to the land.
But it did not take the elite team a lot of time to understand that making it this far in one push was no genius formation’s credit. Instead, it was a trap. A trap to separate the elite from the rest of the army and finish them first. But by the time the elite team understood this predicament, their condition already tilted to the worst. Corpses littered the bridge left and right, and though there were more crepes from the defending side, the alive portion was the same. The defender outnumbered them three to one.
A man in his sixties retrieved his sword from the flesh of the opponent he was just hugging.
“CAPTAIN!” Suddenly, the man heard a shout and reflex ably turned around and saw that, there was a young man that stood in front of him and there was a sword protruding out of his back as blood dropped in trikes.
The boys smiling but blood-filled face was quite familiar to the man. How could it not be it was the son of his friend! The friend that got crippled saving him, in the past. The man went numb for a moment, only thing that was going on his mind at that time was what would he say to his friend back home? That his young son died, saving an old and pathetic excuse of a man, that was saved, by the cost of his father’s sword-wielding hand.
But on the battlefield, every moment mattered. The enemy that drove the sword through the young man’s chest earlier, already cut him in half and was coming for the old man, with blood red sword in hand and ferociousness on his face.
As soon as the man came to the swinging position of the old man and was about to take a swing, suddenly, another old man with armor rammed him, driving his sword through the man’s rips.
“Ros, look sharp, demit!” The new old man yelled as he took his sword out of that man’s body, and the jetted blood came out from the hole, painting parts of his body in red dots.
The old man named Ros came out from his state of panic and stood back-to-back with the newcomer old man. And as they looked at the eyes of the enemies around them, Ros continued, “Bell, all this time, and I never thought that this is how we would die.”
“Don’t lose hope so easily. We have sent a request for help from the sect, and besides, look at your son, he is doing well.” Bell said, pointing at a young man farther ahead with a thick beard and hair. The young man was killing enemies left and right and at the same time rescuing his comrades as he was shouting, “Don’t worry, help is on the way, and even if it does not arrive in time, all we have to do is take 3 of this basted with us before they take us down."
The sight of his son calmed the old man down. But in the next moment, in front of his eyes and smiling face, a towering man rammed his long sword into the neck of his son and pinned his son to the wall of the bridge.
As his blood flowed, he started to through his arms and legs around as he vomited blood from his mouth. It was as if he was suffocating. Seeing the man still not dead, the towering man singled another towering man, and they rammed the man, as he, along with the two, fell down the 20-miter tall bridge, with a part of the bridge railing rock that they braked off.
All this happened so quickly that the old man Ros’s smiling face did not even have the chance to change. And in front of the father’s smiling face, his son was taken away from him forever.
First Ros’s face became sad, then angry, and then straight to madness as his face became red and the vines became visible. Then with a loud shout, breaking off with Bell, he headed straight to his son’s murderers. He started a killing spree.
He cut down a young man of 20 years, then as another one struck at him, he cut his wrist off and then, with a swing of his two-handed sword, severed this guy's screaming head off. And after that, as he moved on to the next one, his sword got stuck in that enemy's ink-like dark armor. The man then raised his hand to grab Ros by the neck, but at this time, old man Ros’s fighting experience kicked in as he quickly made distance and then planted another blow at the same place. But this time, the block-armored man grabbed him and, in his pain, smashed Ros on the ground as he coughed out blood. The next moment, Ros moved to avoid the black-armored man’s stump that cracked the ground where he was standing before.
Ros did not wait, he quickly stood up and, this time, with his running momentum, ran the tip of the long sword through his chest at the same place where he hit the previous two times.
As the sword went through the man’s chest, his blood gushed out from his helmet, with a vomiting sound. As he fell, Ros pulled his sliver-long sword out, which was now crimson, from the man’s chest, but as soon as that happened, an arrow planted itself into Ros’s chest and knocked him back.
Ros first looked at the arrow and then at the sky filled with an arrow wave.
“Ahhh…” Another soldier from the opposite side was coming with his saber held high above his head.
Ros noticing this, also charged at him with a ferocious scream as the smell of blood asserted his nostrils, stimulating him to shake off the pain that he was feeling from the arrow in his chest.
But the arrows of the sky did not change their trajectory, nor did they stop.
As the two men were about to clash, Bell came in between them and bashed the enemy with his shield, the enemy was sent flying for two to three meters, and pushing down Ros, he covered himself along with Ros in his round shield as the rain of arrows fell, blind to friends and foes.
As the sound of arrows stopped, Bell removed his shield from overhead. The first thing that entered his eyes was the heart-breaking condition of his shield, which was filled with arrows and was about to break at any time. The surrounding was filled with arrows as well. Farther away, the man he shield-bashed earlier was already a porcupine.
“Yea…” Farther away, close to the palace, many were cheering as they were the man from the palace. And with a new vaguer, they started charging toward the survivors as bulges were ringing.
Bell stood up and adopted a fighting stance. By this time, Ros also came to his senses and stood beside Bell, and looking back, he saw his men gathering for a final fight.
At this moment, suddenly, another bugle sounded far in the high walls of the palace and bows were drawn, but this time the target was not the bridge but the battlefield beyond it.
With a smile of relief, Ros also got into a fighting stance to fight with his comrades for one last time.
With screams, their enemy was coming to slotter them, and by doing the same, they were about to slotter their enemy. But suddenly, a swirling upside-down tornado fell from the sky in front of them and reduced their enemies to ashes. It then vanished and fell again a little in front.
At first, Ros, Bell, and their subordinates were dumbfounded, but then they looked up and saw that a massive eagle, whose shadow was as big as one-third of the bridge, was overhead. Its silver body reflected the light as if it was a silver mirror. But even this mind-beguiling, flame-throwing, majestic beast was incapable of capturing their attention, because their eyes were glued to the man on this fantastic beast. Somehow, somehow it seemed that the man, or rather the young man, was far more majestic, imposing, and terrifying than the creature could ever be.
“The sunfear eagle, people from the sect are here.”
“The sunfear eagle! Then it's, Young Master Sho, we are saved!”
“Young master Sho, then we are dead!”
As the young man and the eagle made their presence known with a spectacular opening, everybody began chatting amid themselves. The ones that were defending had to disappear, written all over their faces. And the opposite was true for the ones attacking.
In a few moments, with a few breaths, the bridge was filled with human rosters. Then The young man looked at the archers shivering on the place's high walls.
With the young man’s signal, the eagle started to fly upward. As this happened, a bugle sound brought the archers on the wall back from the abyss of fear, and they quickly nocked their arrows on their bows as they aimed at the upward-flying eagle. As they let go, a black wave of arrows assaulted the eagle and man duo.
With a simple hand swipe, the boy generated a force field that repealed most of the arrows, but some were imbued with Qi and made it through.
The young man took notice as the arrows bounced off, colliding with metallic feathers. He did not think his prey was smart enough to hide some Qi arrows in this regular arrow wave. And his alert rose along with his rage.
With the stump of his feet, another swirling fire descended on the wall. With screaks of tens of people, that tugged at the Soul, the arrows melted, along with tens of archers on the wall.
As the rock wall melted into lava, it fell on the lack, creating steams that went up to the heavens. And after some time, the soldiers on the wall lost sight of the eagle. All they saw was a steam scare in front of them, through which the grim reaper came unannounced in the form of fire.
People threw arrows, spears, swords, and even pebbles into the steam screen. They knew, it was most likely to do nothing, but what else could they do?
A soldier picked up a spear from the ground and, with his running momentum, threw it into the fog. Suddenly, the sound of something heating a rock, could be heard, and he and his friends beside him tried to look into the fog with confusion in their eyes.
But in the next moment, their eyes grew as a huge bolder blasted this part of the wall, exploding them into blood rain.
And at this moment, blunders shorts were coming from all sides, making quick work of the wall. Dust and rubble field the area, and besides the lack, the attackers were getting ready to use their hand boats to attack the castle. But a young man in a suave dress, holding a fan, stopped them.
The wall was filled with screaming and people running. Suddenly, an enormous pressure bored down on everyone, and a voice that thundered throughout the area, “You Brat.”
“BOOM!” After the voice, there was massive noise, and a circular air wave that cleared all the fog and dust, making the surroundings visible again.
An elderly man with a beard up to his hip, as white as milk and clothes equally so, was punching the young man’s eagle, as the young man put up a barrier to counter that. And the sound was the coalition between them.
“C…C…Crack, C…Crack.” A cracking sound spread throughout the sky, and breaking the young man’s barrier like a mirror, the elderly man’s fist connected with the head of the eagle, sending the eagle flying.
The young man on the eagle coughed out blood. Blood, was also falling from the egal's cracked skin, where the elderly man’s fist connected.