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Sol kept going and grinned smugly as he ran, his voice still carrying back to them like poison.

”What’s the matter? Can’t even run properly? I’ve seen old women move faster than you lot! Is this really the army that thought it could take the Veynar? You’re not an army... you’re a joke! A pathetic, stumbling joke that the ancestors are probably laughing at right now!”

The taunts hit like sharp spears into their bodies. The Coalition warriors seemed to have lost their minds completely.

”KILL HIM!” a Marauder screamed, foam flying from his mouth. ”RIP THAT BLACK BASTARD APART! TEAR HIS ENTRAILS OUT AND FEED THEM TO THE BEASTS!”

”CRUSH THE BATARD!” another Marauder roared, his voice hoarse with fury. ”I WANT HIS HEAD ON MY SPEAR!”

The entire horde surged forward even faster, their formation breaking as blind fury took over. They didn’t think anymore. They didn’t plan. They just charged... a mindless tide pouring towards the narrow mountain pass.

The ones in front pushed harder, trampling their own slower comrades in their desperation to reach the black-armored figure mocking them.

Sol grinned smugly as he ran.

Perfect.

On the other side, the recruits reached the other side of the pass first, spilling out into the barren wasteland.

They poured through the narrow corridor, their footsteps echoing off the stone walls as they ran for their lives.

The young warriors were breathing hard, their lungs burning, legs trembling from the long sprint.

The moment they crossed the threshold and emerged into the open wasteland, many of them instinctively slowed down, turning their heads back toward the pass with wide, worried eyes.

They looked back at Sol.

He was still at the rear, walking casually as if he were taking a leisurely stroll through the tribe square rather than leading a desperate escape from thousands of enemies.

His black Rockhorn armor gleamed under the harsh sun, his posture relaxed and confident, the Dreadwing Blade still sheathed at his hip. He didn’t look like a man running for his life. He looked like a man in complete control.

For a split second, the recruits, especially the one he had saved, hesitated.

Their hearts clenched with a mix of fear and loyalty. They had run ahead as ordered, but seeing Sol still behind them... alone against the roaring tide of the Coalition army... made them stop in their tracks.

A few of the bolder ones took a step back toward the pass, their spears raised, ready to turn around and fight beside him.

”Lord Sol!” one boy shouted, voice cracking with desperation. ”Come on! We can’t leave you behind!”

Another girl, her face streaked with sweat and charcoal paint, hesitated at the edge of the pass, her eyes wide with worry. ”We should wait for him! We can’t just run while he—”

But Sol’s voice cut through the chaos, calm and commanding.

”Go! Keep moving! I’ll be right behind you!”

The words snapped them out of their hesitation. With one last worried glance back at their leader, the recruits turned and ran. their footsteps pounding the cracked ground as they put distance between themselves and the pass.

Sol waited until the last of them had crossed the threshold before he entered last, walking casually as if he were taking a leisurely stroll.

His eyes flicked back once toward the roaring horde pouring into the pass behind him, a faint, smug smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

With a vicious curse, he shouted one last taunt.

”Come and get me, you worthless sacks of shit! I’ll carve your entire army into beasts food!”

The taunt was the final spark that ignited the powder keg.

The entire horde surged forward with primal, uncontrollable fury, thousands of warriors crammed into the tight, five-man-wide corridor of the mountain pass.

They pushed and shoved each other in their mindless rage to reach him, axes raised, spears thrust forward, mouths foaming with hatred.

The narrow walls of the pass amplified their roars into a deafening, echoing thunder that shook the stone itself.

But in their blind obsession to catch the black-armored human mocking them, they didn’t realize the fatal mistake they had made.

The pass was so narrow that once the front ranks poured in, the ones behind kept pushing without thinking.

The corridor quickly became a deadly bottleneck.

Warriors were crushed against the stone walls, trampled underfoot, and jammed together like cattle in a slaughter chute.

No one could pass.

The ones in front tried to push forward to reach Sol, while the ones behind shoved harder, thinking the path was clear.

The result was chaos... a suffocating, writhing mass of bodies, weapons, and screams.

They tried their best to break through, but it only made the situation worse. Elbows dug into ribs. Axes accidentally hacked into comrades. The press of bodies grew tighter, turning the pass into a meat grinder of their own making.

The screams of the crushed and trampled mixed with the furious roars of those still trying to reach the front.

Suddenly Sol had stopped running.

He stood at the mouth of the pass, completely still, his back to the horde.

The world seemed to hold its breath.

The thunder of thousands of footsteps, the roar of war cries, the clashing of weapons... everything slowed to a crawl as Sol’s black-armored figure became the focal point of the entire battlefield. He didn’t turn around immediately. He simply stood there, tall and unyielding, like a dark monolith carved from the mountain itself.

The wind whipped around him, tugging at the edges of his Rockhorn armor, but he remained motionless, as if the chaos behind him was beneath his notice.

The Coalition warriors felt it instantly... a cold, instinctive dread that clawed up their spines.

They had bad feelings.

Right to their feelings.

The ones at the very front, still pushing forward with blind rage, suddenly faltered. Their war cries died in their throats. Their axes lowered slightly. Their eyes widened as they stared at the lone figure standing between them and freedom... the same man who had mocked them, humiliated them, and led them here.