[@BlueHelix][@Reallydumb][@Kyoka][@reflection]
[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/aExv3Zs.png[/img][/center]
[h1][center]In The Woods, Southern Moor[/center][/h1]


Athánatoi Number 3001

Directed by that man he marched forth without fear in a batallion with a hundred more of his allies. In a sense they were unlike the men of that one general, being one of many, indistinguishable from each other. They held a willl and could easily meld together, yet could also become individual soldiers. The undying army that held a form that was not strongly defined. What shaped them then was the will of their Emperor.

Various pit traps were revealed by the careful poking of soliders, and the ground-shattering shots of Archer. At times boulders that rolled into their ranks were repulsed due to advance warning by the Athánatoi gathering and forming massive giants to push back against them.

Yes, thanks to the guidance of Archer things were going well.


Athánatoi Number 236

The snapping of bones, the whine of metal. Darts that punctured through them and broke them apart came from the bushes. Darts that killed invading soldiers. Laid by a heroic spirit by that virtue they were tools that struck as a mystery. Even with all their sweeps, various Athánatoi walking in one by one, they could not quite clear it all. No easy path existed and so each meter was gained at the cost of shattered soldiers, fading into wisps of ether as they felt the terror of the defiance of a hiding lord.


Athánatoi Number 7449

A most dangerous stretch of land that the Emperor certainly could not have discovered. Even if it was something that he would have figured out soon enough after the first wave of casualties, there was little he could do to find where this stretch of land that was hostile to those who advanced into the heart of this territory ended in a spot of respite.

But with the guidance of that man they knew. With that knowledge they crossed.

Giant towers rose into the ground. Macabre and yet prideful. They had no will and yet they held a sense of luxury and regality that carried the power of the Persian Empire. Giant pillars of bone and metal of soldiers clinging together. Thousands gathered to form a construct with their bodies, one that cast a shadow over the horizon of Fuyuki.  Silently it arched, falling with a large crash that sent a powerful shockwave through the moor that ripped through the land and sent cracks and fissures that broke apart various traps, and drained pits of mud and quicksand.

But that was not its purpose.

The elephant of the Emperor crossed first, then came the rest of the soldiers. Holding the weight of the rest of the army, the bridge formed out of the Athánatoi.

The army was the might of the empire. The empire grew by supporting the reach of the one who stood as the man who reigned above it. It was only natural then it could support his march as a bridge.


Athánatoi Number 3862

It walked forward as a scouting party. Searching for the master, searching for the servant. Slowly they were mapping out the moor. 

Number 994 disappeared. Number 13 found itself bashed to bits by a launched log.

It walked forward. 

It also disappeared as the world became a murky brown as it sunk into the trap that hid a pit filled with water. As he fell his body crumbled at the holes edges and caused a reaction of the tumbling of rocks that buried him inside.

Number 3862 dispersed. 


Athánatoi Number 391 disappeared.


Athánatoi Number  2501  disappeared.


Athánatoi Number 33  disappeared.


The numbers of the Athánatoi were whittled More than half of the army had faded away and the mighty elephant that Darius rode upon was now but a chariot pulled by two “horses” made out of a number of skeletons forming a mimicry of the beasts.. 

The invasion was by all means a most costly one, but also one that was going better than expected.

But-

There was a matter even more important.

He was the emperor. But the emperor had a cornerstone that he could not do without. His master. The situation at the church, of the Archer who was their ally who engaged in hostilities with that shining hero who was known as the fastest.

The heart of the war-effort of Darius was under incredible danger. Despite the losses that had be incurred, despite the fact that the battle was over he made to retreat. Taking his leave of the marsh. The Athánatoi left in the shame of defeat.

But defeat did not matter. As long as they remained, as long as he could rebuild it did not matter.

Leaving the land of Rider, Darius made to pillage a number of homes, taking cues from the riot that now rampaged through the city.

To recooperate and to be close enough to protect his master. The campaign was that of loss, but it was information that they could use for another invasion in the future.