Gray awoke to shouts.
The noise disoriented him. Whinnies of horses, rufflings of cloth and the laughs of men.
He blinked, squinting at the hemp type of cloth above him. 'A tent?' Gray thought, standing up slowly.
The tent flap opened as a man clad in bronze armour stepped in. He planted his foot in the ground and gave a resolute salute, "Lord Leonnatus! Scouts report the Thessalian rebels have encircled Lamia. Antipater's pinned. Orders?"
Gray just stared at him. "What?"
The man blinked, confused. "Orders, my lord?"
For a second, he stood there frozen.
He needed time to think. "Give me… a moment." He murmured, clutching his head tightly.
The soldier hesitated, then nodded stiffly and backed out.
Gray, seeing no signs of him hanging around. Finally let out a sigh of relief. He rubbed his temples, Gods knew what kind of Nightmare he landed in.
But, suddenly, his lips curled up ever so slightly. 'Being addressed as Lord is certainly fun.' He thought with a grin before shaking his head, "Focus." He muttered.
Gray rubbed his head, thinking back to how the soldier addressed him. Leonnatus, he knew that name. After all, he was an enthusiast of history.
Alexander the Great, the man who conquered the known world, the king of kings, the lord of Asia, the son of Zeus-Ammon and he…. was his general.
But the encirclement of Lamia, and Antipater being pinned gave him a better understanding of the timeline.
This was the time after the death of Alexander the Great, where the diadochi were secretly scheming to take their piece of Alexander's vast empire.
Gray pinched his glabella, he was truly screwed.
If memory served right, Leonnatus was brutally killed while intervening in the war.
"I would rather stick a fork through my eye than continue this bum ass Nightmare." Gray murmured in disappointment.
He stepped outside the tent. Rows of soldiers were forming ranks, hundreds of them.
They gave a courteous bow seeing his arrival, their eyes lit with the fire of conquest.
He turned to the nearest officer. "How far are we from Lamia?"
"Roughly a thousand miles, my lord. Near Hellespontine Phrygia. We march at dawn."
Gray nodded, he really wanted to run away. He hated fighting, why risk his life for something so small.
But unless he fought, he would forever be stuck here. And who knew if there's a time limit to this shit. Would he just suddenly disappear into the void after a few days?
He had many questions.
Gray then turned towards the officer, "At dawn then." He said curtly, trying to imitate the arrogant asshole who probably had a stick in his ass.
The officer saluted and left to spread the word.
Gray returned back to his tent, immediately falling down to the ground, his legs shaking. "Guess I'm marching to Greece." Gray said with an awkward chuckle.
".."
The sun had risen high, its incandescent glare poured over the army. Dust kicked up with every step as they covered large amounts of distance.
Gray rode at the front, clinging at the horse's reins for his life.
The first few days blurred together.
Gray finally understood how hard being in the army was. His throat was perpetually dry, his back ached, and the one time he dozed off, he had almost fallen from his horse.
By the fourth day, they were making steady progress through Hellespontine Phrygia. The landscape had shifted — fewer settlements, more stretches of wilderness.
That morning, Gray noticed how the men spoke less. Laughter had vanished.
"Morale's dropping," said a familiar voice beside him.
Gray glanced over. Polycles — one of Leonnatus's senior officers rode next to him.
"Can't blame them," Gray muttered. "Marching a thousand miles to die for a city most of them haven't even seen."
Polycles frowned. "They march because you lead, my lord. They believe in your command."
Gray gave him a tired look. "Then they're idiots."
Polycles blinked. "Pardon?"
"Nothing."
The day dragged on after that.
When dusk came, they set up camp near a valley — the men moved quickly to establish a camp.
Gray dismounted and stared out toward the horizon. "I wonder how you're doing, Nym." He muttered under his breath.
Gray's head suddenly shot back.
At first, he thought it was the wind. Then came the second noise, a wet, dragging scrape, like claws against stone.
The guards shouted.
And Gray's heart froze.
Nightmare Creatures.