The heavy thud picked up, growing from a far-off rumble to a real presence that vibrated in the tight mountain pass. Aetherion was back with the main group, hiding behind some sharp, jutting rocks. His eyes were glued to the curve where the Shadow Empire's supply train was due. His troops weren't making any sound like they were prepping magic no crackles of mana, no glowing shields. Just the quiet, controlled breathing of soldiers pressed against the dirt, hands tight on their weapons.
The air felt thick, heavy with the stink of wet earth and fear. But there was also the sharp smell of iron, of being ready for a fight. Commander Rexus was hunkered down beside Aetherion, holding his breath. His knuckles were white against his sword. He was watching a kind of fighting he'd never seen from the Azure Empire, based on trapping the enemy instead of using magic.
Finally, the enemy rounded the bend. It was a long line of heavily armored guys guarding slow carts loaded with food, potions, and, most importantly, stuff for dark magic rituals. At the front was a bunch of the Shadow Empire's Black Iron Cavalry tough soldiers who used their speed and armor to smash through things. They looked sure of themselves, like they figured the pass was empty. They were spread out, making them easy to hit.
Aetherion waited for the carts with the ritual stuff to get right into the middle of the pass. His heart stayed calm; the fighter from his old life was in charge. He didn't shout an order that could be heard. Instead, he just flicked his wrist, raising a plain, dark flag the quiet sign to start the attack.
The trap went off hard and fast. It didn't start with magic, but with wood snapping and horses screaming. The front cavalry went right into the hidden pits and traps the Seventh had dug. Their speed turned against them as horses fell and men were thrown onto sharp spikes. At the same time, rocks held by ropes came crashing down from the sides. They didn't hit the front guard, but smashed right into the carts, scattering supplies and messing up the line. The Shadow Army was thrown into chaos, their magic useless against rocks and sharpened wood.
The mess in the pass was a concert of fear: horses whinnying, armor grinding on rocks, and Shadow soldiers yelling and trying to get it together. The enemy wizards, not many on a supply run like Aetherion guessed, tried to put up shields, but the ground and the sudden attack made it too hard. Before they could cast a spell, Aetherion gave the next command: a swipe of his sword, telling the infantry to attack.
The Seventh Auxiliary came out of hiding, not in a big charge, but in small, trained groups. They went around the front line still stuck in the traps and went straight for the supply guards and the scared support guys. They fought dirty, using axes and strong shields. They were good in close fights where magic didn't work well. They aimed for the weak spots in the armor, the horses' necks, and used the rough ground to their advantage.
Aetherion led from the front, moving with scary ease. He didn't bother fighting wizards. When a Shadow warrior made a ball of dark energy, Aetherion didn't block it. He just stepped to the side and punched the guy in the gut. The wizard, shocked and winded, fell to the ground, his magic useless against Aetherion's skill. The soldiers of the Seventh saw their Prince, fighting without magic but beating the wizards, and fought with a wild strength. They weren't fighting for the Empire that didn't respect them anymore. They were fighting to prove themselves to the only leader who had ever valued their strength.
The fight proved Aetherion's idea: a group without magic, using smart plans and skill, could stop a magical army. The Shadow soldiers couldn't keep up with the speed, the hiding, or the focus on their weak spots. The ego and the magical arrogance of the Shadow Empire were being torn down, not by fire or wind, but by the hard work of iron and will.
The fight quickly went from an ambush to the Shadow Empire trying to escape. Their line was cut in half by the broken carts and blocked at the front by the trapped cavalry. They couldn't move or get organized. The wizards tried to use big dark spells, and the Seventh's archers quickly shot them in the hands or feet, making them stop or fall. The battle showed how disruption could beat force.
Aetherion, having taken out some key wizards, stayed calm, pointing with his hands so Commander Rexus could pass on the orders. He wasn't just a soldier fighting, but an artist making a deadly piece. He didn't want to kill everyone that would be a waste. He wanted to break their plans. He focused on taking the enemy engineers and supply masters, the guys who knew the Shadow Empire's systems, while letting the other soldiers run away.
The fight ended when the Shadow commander, a big, tough soldier with a magic mace, broke free from the trap and charged at Aetherion. He wanted to take out the leader. His attack was easy to guess, using heavy armor and power. Aetherion didn't stand against him, but flowed out of the way. He sidestepped the mace, ducked under the next swing, and used the enemy's own power. He grabbed the commander's glove and, with a quick move a technique he'd practiced for years snapped the guy's arm at the elbow with a loud crack.
The commander fell, yelling. His mace clattered on the rocks. That was it for the Shadow forces. They realized their armor and weak magic were no match for this skilled, magic-less fighter. In minutes, the remaining Shadow soldiers ran, leaving their supplies and scattering into the mountains.
Aetherion stood over the commander, calm and untouched. He had won a big victory, not with magic, but with the power of his skill and mind. He looked at the mess broken carts, prisoners, and dark ritual stuff and then back at the Seventh Auxiliary. His soldiers, tired and covered in dirt and blood, were cheering, a sound of strong happiness. They had survived. They weren't the 'useless' army anymore; they were the undefeated force of the mountain pass. The message to the Imperial Court and the Shadow Empire was sent, not with magic, but with the clear win.