Chapter 30 : The Eyes Never Lie

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An eagle could be seen flying high over the barren plains of Alaska, its majestic screech echoing loudly throughout the air. It was such a beautiful sight seeing that animal fly freely, a stark difference from what was happening below it. There was a reason why it was flying so high above the ground. A reason to avoid landing on any tree branch. Because below, in the wasteland that was once such a beautiful place, was a battle the likes Alaska had never seen before taking place.

"FIRE!" A Centurion of Camp Freedom yelled out, twenty blazing fireballs being lifted into the air by catapults soon followed. The eagle could only screech in fright as it flew out of the way, watching the flying objects soar past it in a blazing heat before landing on the soldiers below like a comet.

Watching from a cliff, like the eagle of the sky, was the leader of this madness and destruction. His black armor, sucking in any light at its disposal, a stark difference from the fiery scene before him. His golden mask which seemed to stare into your very soul, reflected the light from the gunfire and fireballs along with what lay below him. Already hundreds lay dead in the field, blood drenching into the ground along with stray limbs strewn about.

He could hear the cries from the wounded, their echoes of anguish signaling that they too would soon join the dead. He could see the soldiers, begging and screaming for help, claw at the legs of their allies who marched over them. Their shields raised high to protect them from the bullets coming at them from the cliff above. But their wall, impenetrable for so many years in the ancient world, could not withstand the hellfire that was modern weapons.

Bullets would find their way in small openings, hitting their mark on an unsuspecting soldier. The soldier would fall in anguish, leaving a gap in the wall that would be taken advantage of until eventually it would be filled once more. But that mere moment of opportunity was enough to take out at least a couple of demigods.

The sight was horrific to even the demigods on the cliff. It reminded them of D-Day, seeing the soldiers of Olympus pile up against one another, the living and the dead. But nevertheless, they did not relent even for a moment. For if they did, their blood would soon be drenched in the ground as well.

For the allies of Olympus, they were living in hell. Friends watched friends get their heads blown off, their arms and legs flying into the air with the occasional fireball incinerating an entire cohort. The living were utterly terrified as they tried their best to hide behind their shields. The ones that were wounded and left behind the shield wall hid behind the piles of bodies that laid in wake. The stench of blood was pungent, and their shoes soaked in the blood of their slain comrades.

Reyna, the leader in charge of this attack, tried her best to organize a counterattack but with no such luck. Her yells were overshadowed by the gunfire above them, bullets clanking against their armor and shields. The screams of the countless dying filled the air, barely allowing herself a moment to think. The only thing she could think of was to march closer to the cliff in hopes of the enemy's long-range weapons to avoid hitting them. But that was better said than done when you had to walk over piles of your own dead along with the wounded that desperately grabbed your leg in hopes of you helping them.

"Incoming!" She heard from behind. Without any hesitation, the daughter of Bellona hid her entire body behind her shield. Not a second later came the earth-shaking boom of a fireball hitting the troops behind her. Looking back for a split second, she saw her soldiers, people she had grown up and trained with, disappear in a red mist. The ones that were unlucky enough to meet a swift end were burned alive by the Greek fire. Their screams reverberated inside her head, a sight and sound she would forever be scared of until her death.

Nevertheless, she ordered those under her command to keep on pushing. For if they were to stop, they'd most certainly die in this hellish landscape. It felt like forever as she marched on. Her legs screamed at her to stop. To take a break. Her arm was tired of lifting her shield but she knew that if she were to drop it even just an inch, she would die. The only thing she could do was march. Somehow, against all odds, she along with those under her command had managed to get beneath the hill that the traitors were on.

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