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    [ Hidden Requirement Discovered. ]

    [ To walk the path of endurance, one must first understand a burden greater than one’s own. ]

    [ Progress Recorded. ]

    [ Second Threshold Path Unlocked. ]

    [ Bear Thy Others. ]

    Nathanial frowned. He stared at the golden screen.

    [ Vow of Enduring Burden: I will endure this war, no matter the cost to myself. I will not allow those I cherish to fall as others have while I still draw breath and wield a sword. The more I bear, the stronger I become. The more I protect, the heavier my burden. ]

    [ Effect: Heightened awareness, reflexes, and improved danger sense. ]

    [ Cost: Pain is amplified; fear becomes stronger. ]

    [ First Enduring Burden Threshold Unlocked: Reinforced danger sense and reflex enhancement. ]

    [ First Threshold Details: Killing intent is physically visible instead of merely an instinctive pressure. Reflex enhancement is strengthened further, allowing for reaction times that are far greater than those of the average human. ]

    [ Enduring Burden Threshold: 0/1000 ]

    Ding!

    [ Aura Detection skill has been upgraded. ]

    [ Aura Detection (Tempered) has been acquired. ]

    [ Details: Effective range has been increased to ten meters. ]

    [ Aura Regeneration skill has been updated. ]

    [ Aura Regeneration (Tempered) has been acquired. ]

    [ Details: Regeneration is slightly faster per star. ]

    [ Aura Regeneration Activated. ]

    Nathanial stared at the screens and slowly sighed. He closed his eyes and felt the nearly depleted aura stars slowly fill with aura. It was far too difficult to tell how fast the skill actually was. Only with time would he be able to measure it.

    But there was no telling how the effect would carry over once he unlocked his third aura star. Luckily for him, the aura detection ability was far more straightforward, and with his improved reflexes, Nathanial would be able to predict and dodge incoming projectiles as long as they weren’t drastically faster than what he could handle.

    He glanced over at the men who were preparing to leave. The wagons creaked beneath the weight of more injured soldiers hopping on board.

    A mighty neigh from the horses came. Nathanial prepared himself for the grueling march that was before them, yet as he stepped forward—a familiar face pulled up beside him.

    “Needa lift?”

    Nathanial stared at Jetson, who seemed to have acquired a straw hat and tipped it toward him.

    The young man shook his head.

    “The wagons are for the injured soldiers. Not for me.”

    Jetson raised a brow. Then, he picked up a rock from beneath his coach’s bench and tossed it at Nathanial’s helm. The soft metallic clink echoed through the air as the young man blankly stared at the coach driver.

    The old man grinned as he lifted his straw hat, revealing his shiny bald head that glowed beneath the sun. He tapped the empty space beside him at the front. “Welcome aboard, my injured companion at arms.”

    “Thanks, Jetson.” Nathanial hopped on board with his scabbard pulled from his waist and held before him. “I didn’t think I would see you so soon after the battle.”

    “Trust me, I’m just as surprised as you are. I figured I would need to drop off another wave of men at the front lines, yet somehow ya fellas reached the Sixth.”

    Nathanial softly chuckled. “Even I have a hard time believing it, and I was right there beneath the standard.”

    “I saw, many of the men from afar saw.” Jetson gestured at Fredrick and the rest of the patrolmen to hop on board. “We had a clear sight of the work ya folks did from the top of the hill. It was a tad bit hazy with the smoke and all, but it was outstanding work.”

    “Let’s just hope we don’t have to do that again,” Fredrick commented, moving to the seat closest to the coach bench from the back of the wagon. “I counted at least five times where I nearly died in battle today, and that’s five times too many if you ask me.”

    “Some would say that’s part of the beauty in life,” Richard added. “The constant thrill of life and death situations.”

    Fredrick blankly blinked. “No one has ever said that before.” He stared at Percy. “Back me up on this one.”

    Percy firmly nodded. “I have to agree, sir. Most men would not find it thrilling at all.”

    “Good thing we aren’t most men,” Paul said, with the other two patrolmen sitting beside Chris nodding. “We’ve survived countless dire situations under our leader’s command. If there’s anyone I can trust with my life, it would be Nathanial.”

    Nathanial bitterly smiled beneath his helm. “I’m not a good enough leader for you to trust with your life.”

    “But you will be,” Chris countered. “If it wasn’t for your call to push left at that choke point, then I doubt we would’ve broken through the Empire’s defenses that night.”

    “Let’s not forget that supply caravan ambush!” Percy added.

    “Uh, hello? Are you guys forgetting the most important feat of all?” Fredrick asked, holding the spear with the Everheart banner tied to the end.

    He tapped it on the wooden planks. “You can’t forget how you rallied the men around you.”

    Nathanial’s head swayed side to side, with the metallic plates of his armor softly shifting. “That doesn’t change the fact that the rest of the men who followed us that night died.”

    “We would have been dead anyway,” Chris pointed out. “We saw the dead bodies of the men who failed to escape that night. If we had stayed and done nothing, then odds are we wouldn’t have survived with the lives we had. You may not be a perfect leader, but you’re a damn good one.”

    Nathanial sighed. “You guys sure do have a way with words.”

    The patrolmen grinned as the wagon jolted over the debris that littered the road. Nathanial glanced at the damaged wooden obstacles and fallen bodies pushed to the side of the brick road. Broken swords stabbed into the ground served as placeholders for their comrades, with helms resting on the pommels.


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Nathanial’s chest tightened.

    Hundreds of broken blades were used as markers.

    As tombstones for men whose bodies would never return home.

    From the plain iron helms, he could tell that most of the men who died were footmen. Common soldiers were recruited to fill the ranks.

    If they had potential, then they would awaken their aura and return stronger from the battle. But if they failed to do so, then they would die on the battlefield.

    And seeing this, Nathanial couldn’t help but think about how many lives were lost. For a war that none of them were alive for, thousands of sons had died in a field that once brimmed with life. Now, only the dead remained. Beneath the blood-soaked mud of the battlefield.

    A part of him wondered if his friends had died. Would his heart be able to handle the grief? Or would nothing be left? Not even pain. He saw the expressions of those who survived the battle. The men who called out the names of their friends to see if they could find even a trace of what was left.

    Only for silence to return.

    An ugliness existed in war. One only those on the battlefield would see, and as Nathanial clung onto his sword—he realized that this war was still a long way from ending.

    The lives he would have to take would breed a new generation of hatred, and so would the lives lost. But there was nothing he could do about that except force himself to move forward.

    “It’s tragic, isn’t it?” Jetson asked. “I never thought I would see so many young men die like this.”

    Nathanial couldn’t help but agree. “Do you think they even know what they’re fighting for?”

    Jetson stared at him in wonder.

    “I mean, for us… We’re doing it to protect our home. But for the Avalon Empire, they don’t even know why they’re here.”

    The coachman’s gaze drifted forward. “They don’t need to know why they’re here. They just need to hate us.”

    “Hate us…?” Nathanial muttered. “I don’t get it. They don’t even know us.”

    “Could ya imagine? That one simple emotion is a powerful motivator. With enough of it, you can sway an entire group against another. Have them dancing in the palm of your hand.”

    Nathanial quietly sighed. But once he thought about the Empire’s scout, he killed. The one who apologized. He found himself believing in Jetson’s theory the slightest bit more.

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