Chương 7: Chapter 7: Unlocking Past Memories-Part 2
The Scythian encampment transformed as the warning of an approaching warband rippled through it. The idle banter and slow, deliberate rhythms of daily camp life had been replaced by frantic preparation. Kazimir's barked orders carried over the clamour, and the sharp clang of weapons being readied rang like an alarm.
Hadrian moved through the chaos with purpose, though his heart pounded against his ribs. The system's notification still lingered in his vision, its promise of memories was both a comfort and a weight. He had to help—he had to—but Kazimir's dismissal gnawed at him, leaving doubt in its wake.
"Hey, princess!"
The voice startled him, yanking him out of his thoughts. He turned to see Skyles grinning at him, leaning against a stack of barrels with his usual air of smug nonchalance.
"What now?" Hadrian asked, his tone sharper than he intended.
Skyles raised his hands in mock surrender, his grin widening. "Easy there, one-arm. I just wanted to tease you",
Hadrian scowled, his face flushing. "I don't have time for this, Skyles."
"Aw, don't be like that," Skyles said, pushing off the barrels and strolling closer. "I mean it as a compliment. With those curls and those big eyes of yours, you'd make a killing if we ever needed a distraction for the orcs."
"Shut up," Hadrian muttered, though his lips twitched despite himself.
"Hey, I'm just saying," Skyles continued, his tone light. "If this whole 'ruthless warrior' thing doesn't pan out, you've got options. Maybe the orcs won't kill you—they'll just keep you around as their whore."
"Skyles shut the fuck up or ill nock your teeth out?" Hadrian had flashes of the orc trying to rape him 'fucks sake--stupid fucker'.
"look you couldn't do shit against me, dont take things so seriously princess." Skyles clapped him on the shoulder, his grin softening into something less teasing. "Seriously, though. You've got guts, kid. More than most people twice your size. Just don't let it go to your head, alright?"
Hadrian glanced at him, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. "Thanks," he said quietly.
"Don't mention it," Skyles replied, the grin returning. "Now let's go sharpen that toothpick you call a sword. If you're gonna survive this, you'll need all the help you can get."
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an hour later...
By the time Hadrian arrived at Kazimir's command tent again, it was crowded with mercenaries. The air inside was thick with tension, the lanternlight casting sharp shadows across the faces of the gathered men. Kazimir stood at the head of the table, his arms crossed as he listened to the scouts' report.
"They'll be here before dawn," one of the scouts said grimly. "At least two hundred, maybe more."
Kazimir nodded, his expression unreadable. "And their position?"
"South of the river," the scout replied. "They're moving fast, but they're disorganized. No cavalry, no siege equipment—just infantry."
A ripple of murmurs ran through the room. Hadrian lingered near the edge of the crowd, his fists clenched at his sides. He wanted to speak up, to offer his plan, but Kazimir's earlier dismissal still stung.
"We should retreat," one of the lieutenants said, his voice firm. "Take what we can carry and fall back to the hills. We can regroup there and plan our next move."
"And leave the camp to be pillaged?" Kazimir shot back, his voice sharp. "You think the orcs will spare anything when they find the camp empty?"
"its a liability, Kazimir," the lieutenant argued. "We can't fight while we're dragging equipment and loot with us. You know that."
Kazimir's gaze hardened, his jaw tightening. "We fight," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "We hold them here."
The room fell silent.
Hadrian Steps In
Hadrian took a step forward, his voice cutting through the tension. "We can't just hold them. We need to outsmart them."
All eyes turned to him, and Kazimir's expression darkened. "I thought I told you to stay out of this."
"You did," Hadrian said, meeting Kazimir's glare head-on. "But if you're going to get everyone killed, I'm not staying quiet."
A few of the mercenaries chuckled nervously, but most just stared, their expressions a mix of curiosity and disbelief.
Kazimir crossed his arms, his gaze icy. "And what exactly do you think you know about strategy, boy?"
Hadrian swallowed hard, his pulse hammering. The images from the system flickered in his mind again—formations, ambushes, the careful positioning of troops. He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to speak.
"The orcs are stupid, but they're strong," he said. "They'll charge straight at us, like they always do. But we can use that against them. The forest around the camp is dense—they'll have trouble moving through it. If we set traps and draw them into narrow paths, we can thin their numbers before they reach the camp."
"And then what?" Kazimir asked, his tone sceptical. "You think a dozen traps will stop two hundred orcs?"
"No," Hadrian admitted. "But it'll slow them down. And if we position archers on high ground, we can pick them off while they're disorganized. If we focus on their leaders, the rest will panic. They're like a swarm—cut off the head, and the body falls apart."
The room was silent for a moment. Then Kazimir snorted, shaking his head. "You've got guts, I'll give you that. But guts don't win battles, boy. Experience does. Now get out of my tent before I throw you out."
Hadrian's fists clenched, his face burning with frustration. "You're making a mistake," he said, his voice low but steady.
"Maybe," Kazimir said coldly. "But it's mine to make."
"now get out!" shouted Kazmir.
Hadrian stormed out of the tent, his anger bubbling just beneath the surface. He barely noticed Skyles falling into step beside him until the older boy spoke.
"Well, that went well," Skyles said cheerfully.
Hadrian shot him a glare. "Not now, Skyles."
"Come on, don't be like that," Skyles said, grinning.
"He's going to get everyone killed," Hadrian muttered.
"Probably," Skyles agreed. "But hey, that's war. Lots of people die, and the rest of us get to tell stories about it later."
Hadrian stopped walking, turning to face Skyles. "Do you ever take anything seriously?"
Skyles' grin faltered, just for a moment. "More than you think," he said quietly. "But you can't let it get at you. If you do, you won't survive long enough to make a difference."
Hadrian stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. He nodded slowly, his anger giving way to a steely resolve.
" I'll make him listen, eventually" Hadrian said, his voice firm. "One way or another."
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The Scythian camp began its march before the first light of dawn. Mercenaries moved in tight, surprisingly disciplined lines, at least compared to orcs-their gear packed and weapons drawn. The forest loomed ahead, its dark canopy whispering promises of both cover and danger. The cool night air was thick with tension, the silence broken only by the clinking of armor and the occasional snort of a horse.
Hadrian walked near the rear of the formation, his hand resting on the hilt of his crude sword. Skyles sauntered beside him, his bow slung casually over his shoulder, while Leon trailed a few steps behind, his face pale but determined.
"Alright, princess," Skyles said, breaking the silence. "Here's the plan: when the fighting starts, you hide behind me and look pretty. Maybe the orcs will stop to admire your hair, and I can shoot them in the face."
Hadrian groaned. "Will you stop calling me that?"
"Why? It fits," Skyles said with a grin.
Leon burst out laughing, though he quickly masked it with a cough.
"You're a prick," Hadrian muttered, though he couldn't keep the corner of his mouth from twitching.
"Someone has to keep things interesting," Skyles replied, nudging Hadrian's shoulder. "You're way too serious for a kid. Lighten up."
Hadrian rolled his eyes, but Skyles was already leading his horse forward. "Come on, princess," he called over his shoulder. "You're riding with me. Don't want you slowing us down trying to keep up on foot."
Before Hadrian could protest, Skyles swung himself into the saddle and reached down, gripping Hadrian's wrist and hauling him up in one swift motion. Hadrian found himself seated awkwardly in front of Skyles, his back pressed against the older boy's chest.
"This is ridiculous," Hadrian muttered, shifting uncomfortably.
"You'll live," Skyles said, his tone breezy as he adjusted the reins. "Just don't fall off. I'd hate to explain to Kazimir how I lost his little strategist."
Hadrian tensed as Skyles leaned forward slightly, his chin brushing Hadrian's curls as he steered the horse into line with the others. it was a bit uncomfortable.
"You don't have to hold onto me," Hadrian grumbled,
"Not holding onto you," Skyles teased, "Just making sure you don't tumble off and embarrass us both."
Hadrian stayed quiet, he didn't know why, but he was starting to not hate Skyles as much as he though he did. Skyles hummed softly, guiding the horse with a casual ease that somehow made Hadrian feel even more uncomfortable. 'I think hes just trying to help me because I'm missing an arm' thought Hadrian.
"See?" Skyles said after a moment. "Not so bad. You might even learn to enjoy it."
Hadrian glared at the darkening trees ahead, refusing to turn around. "Not a chance."
"Sure, sure," Skyles murmured, his voice carrying the faintest edge of a smirk.
Hadrian didn't respond. His thoughts were elsewhere, focused on the system's notification and the flickering images of tactics it had shown him. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something, some crucial detail that could make or break their chances of survival.
The Forest's Edge
As the mercenaries reached the tree line, Kazimir raised a hand, signaling the column to halt. The men fanned out, their movements precise and silent, a testament to their experience.
Kazimir dismounted from his horse, his sharp eyes scanning the dense undergrowth ahead. "Scouts," he barked, his voice low but commanding. "Find the main body of the orcs and report back. Stay unseen."
Several men slipped into the shadows without a word, their forms vanishing into the forest like ghosts.
Kazimir turned to the rest of the group. "We'll set up a defensive position here. Traps along the paths, archers in the trees. Stay sharp and wait for my signal."
The mercenaries moved quickly, setting tripwires, digging shallow pits, and placing sharpened stakes along the narrow trails. Skyles led Hadrian and Leon to a small rise overlooking one of the main paths, the three of them crouching behind a cluster of bushes.
"Think they'll come this way?" Leon asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"They'll come," Hadrian said, his tone grim. "It's the most direct route to the camp."
Skyles smirked. "And when they do, we'll be ready. Right, princess?"
Hadrian rolled his eyes but didn't respond. His gaze was fixed on the path below, his mind racing with possibilities. He could almost see the orcs moving through the trees, their brutish forms crashing through the undergrowth like a wave of destruction.
Kazimir's Command
Down the line, Kazimir stood with his lieutenants, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. He didn't show it, but he was worried. The scout's report had been grim—two hundred orcs, maybe more. Even with the terrain on their side, the odds weren't good.
"Do you think the boy was right?" one of his lieutenants asked, his voice low.
Kazimir's jaw tightened. "We'll find out soon enough."
The lieutenant hesitated, then nodded. "If he is... what then?"
Kazimir glanced toward the rise where Hadrian and Skyles were stationed. "If he is, he's more useful than I thought."
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The first sign of the orcs was the smell—an acrid stench of sweat, blood, and unwashed bodies that drifted through the forest like a foul wind.
Hadrian tensed, his grip tightening on his sword as the faint sound of guttural voices reached his ears. He exchanged a glance with Skyles, who had already nocked an arrow and was scanning the trees with sharp eyes.
"They're close," Skyles murmured.
Moments later, the undergrowth rustled, and the first orc appeared. It was massive, its greenish-black skin glistening in the dim light. A crude axe rested on its shoulder, its tusked mouth twisted into a snarl.
More followed, their heavy footsteps shaking the ground as they marched single-file along the narrow path. They were loud, their guttural speech filling the air as they pushed forward, unaware of the traps waiting for them.
"Wait for Kazimir's signal," Skyles whispered, his voice taut.
Hadrian nodded, though his heart hammered in his chest. He could feel the tension in the air, the anticipation building to a breaking point.
The orcs reached the first tripwire. The lead brute stepped on it, triggering a cascade of sharpened stakes that shot out from the undergrowth, impaling the creature through the chest.
It roared in pain, its death cry echoing through the forest. The orcs behind it froze, their heads snapping up as they scanned the trees.
"Now!" Kazimir's voice rang out.
Arrows rained down from above, striking the orcs with deadly precision. Several fell, their bodies hitting the ground with sickening thuds. The survivors roared in fury, charging forward with reckless abandon—right into the next set of traps.
Hadrian darted out from behind the bushes, his blade flashing as he joined the fray. He struck quickly, his enhanced agility allowing him to have more success dodging the orcs' heavy blows.
"Stay close!" Skyles shouted, loosing arrow after arrow. "Don't get yourself killed, princess!"
Hadrian didn't have time to respond. His focus was on the orcs, their brutal strength and sheer numbers threatening to overwhelm the mercenaries' defenses.
The battle raged on, the forest alive with the sounds of combat. Blood splattered the trees, the ground slick with gore.
As the chaos of battle kept increasing, Hadrian's vision flickered, the system's interface appearing once more.
System Notification:
Past memories Unlocked. Analyze Enemy Movements and Plan Countermeasures.
Hadrian's mind exploded with images—formations, strategies, a thousand years' worth of human warfare, science and technology condensed into a single moment. The pieces fell into place, the chaos around him sharpening into something clear and precise.
"We can win this," he whispered, a fierce determination burning in his chest.
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