NOVEL NEXT Chapter 110: The March
At sunrise, the horns of Hiving blared.
The deep, solemn notes rolled through the dawn air like a storm approaching.
Their echo carried through the narrow streets, through the stone towers of the guild district, across the merchant quarter, and finally out towards the city gates.
The time had come.
Wade adjusted the strap of his pack over his shoulder and fell into step beside Rowan.
The streets were overflowing. Adventurers by the hundreds, maybe more than a thousand, filled the avenues, armor clinking and banners fluttering in the wind.
Their boots struck the cobblestones in rhythm, the sound merging into a single unified march that shook the air.
Up ahead, a sergeant carried a large wooden placard with bold black paint spelling out their unit designation.
Division seven.
Wade and Rowan followed the line, falling neatly into formation behind a column of armored knights.
Around them, adventurers adjusted gear, tightened straps, and checked weapons one last time. The sound of metal sliding into sheaths filled the air like a restless song.
On both sides of the road, the people of Hiving stood shoulder to shoulder. Merchants, smiths, and townsfolk who had left their shops to watch the army depart.
Some tossed dried flowers into the ranks. Others called blessings or whispered silent prayers.
Children waved wooden swords, their laughter carrying over the noise, unaware of what this "campaign" truly meant.
Wade kept his gaze forward, jaw tight. He could have kept the pack in his inventory, but he needed it on his back, grounding him physically.
The weight of the pack bit into his shoulders, but he didn't adjust it again. He'd been repeating the travel orders in his head since dawn.
'March to the Eastern Plains. Reach the Southern Encampment by dusk of the second day. Await division assignments.'
The orders were simple. But the simplicity of words rarely reflected the weight they carried.
When the great gates of Hiving came into view, Wade felt his chest tighten.
The twin iron doors slowly creaked open, and the army came to a stop, the sergeants confirming their itineraries in case of any last minute changes.
Beyond the gates stretched the open plains. In the far distance, faint columns of smoke marked the locations of encampments already established by the royal army.
That was the last line of defense.
If the monster horde reached those camps, it meant the battle had already gone wrong.
The thought didn't need to be spoken aloud. Everyone knew it.
When the order to march came, Division Seven moved first.
The sergeant raised the placard higher, and the banners above the formation rippled in the wind. Wade stepped forward, falling into stride with Rowan.
The gates yawned wider, and the city's noise dimmed behind them.
And then, they were through.
They left Hiving behind, stepping into the open plains beyond.
As they marched, Wade glanced back once. The walls of Hiving stood in the distance, looking tall and impenetrable.
They were the symbol of safety, of civilization, and now, shrinking slowly behind him, they looked small, almost fragile.
He exhaled and faced forward again.
The road was long.
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The first day passed uneventfully.
The path wound through dry grasslands and rolling hills, dotted occasionally with clusters of trees and shallow creeks.
Patrol riders in the kingdom's colors passed by periodically, nodding greetings to the marching adventurers.
The heat rose through the afternoon, and by midday, sweat clung to Wade's neck and temples. Still, the mood remained light.
Adventurers traded stories. They told tales of dungeons conquered and beasts slain. Soldiers from the royal divisions marched beside them, singing old campaign songs that filled the air across the plains.
Merchants followed in their wagons, shouting prices for everything from bread to boot polish.
Someone had even brought a cart of wine, and the smell of grapes drifted faintly through the air whenever they stopped to rest.
Wade and Rowan found a spot on the back of a supply wagon during one of the halts. They sat side by side, chewing on hard bread and salted meat.
"Can't believe they're actually letting merchants follow the army," Rowan muttered, biting off another piece. "It's like someone decided war needed more chaos."
Wade smirked. "Merchants go where there's profit. Even war."
"Fair point," Rowan said. "You'd fit right in with them, wouldn't you?"
"I'm here to stay alive," Wade said. "Profit comes second."
Rowan chuckled, shaking his head. "Always the practical one."
They ate in silence for a while, watching the endless stretch of grass and dust.
When night came, the army made camp. The plain turned into a temporary town of campfires and canvas.
The stars above shone brightly, looking endless.
Wade lay on his back beside a small fire, staring up at them. Around him, laughter and conversation rose softly.
Someone was playing a lute. Someone else was singing. Off-key, but sincere.
Rowan sat cross-legged nearby, turning a stick in the fire. "Have you ever been to the capital?"
Wade shook his head. "No."
"My sister runs a bakery there," Rowan said. His voice softened. "Best bread in Vasaria, if you ask me."
Wade looked over, intrigued.
"Lately, she keeps sending letters, saying I should quit this adventuring life," Rowan continued with a faint smile. "Open a shop with her. I always tell her I will, after one last job."
Wade chuckled quietly. "Let me guess. You've been saying that for years."
"Since I was twenty."
"Some things never change."
"Yeah," Rowan said, staring into the flames. "Guess they don't."
For a moment, it felt peaceful.
The sounds of the camp, the laughter, and the crackle of the fire, blended into something almost soothing.
But Wade couldn't shake the tension in his chest.
Because tomorrow, they would march again.
And beyond that… war.
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The second day was harder.
The weather turned cold in the morning, a biting wind sweeping across the hills. The columns continued marching, slower now.
By noon, the road had become crowded.
New companies from neighboring towns had joined them, bringing armored adventurers, and more knights.
By evening, rumors had spread faster than the march itself.
A group of scouts had returned earlier that day with word from the forward camps that the monster horde was enormous.
Tens of thousands strong, they said. Beasts of every size and kind, gathering like a living storm.
The whispers passed from mouth to mouth, until they reached even the farthest tail of the army.
Laughter became rarer. The songs stopped entirely.
That night, the campfires burned lower, and the air was quiet.
Wade sat with Rowan again, both men silent. The stars were still bright, but they seemed colder now.
And no one was smiling.