The Whispering Forest stretched between the walls of a massive ravine, its ancient, gnarled trees creating a natural labyrinth of shadows and light. The wind, as it swept through the walls, produced a constant, unsettling sound like thousands of voices whispering unknown words.
Aria, mounted on a beautiful white horse, observed the position of her troops from the top of a small rise. Forty-five thousand men were strategically positioned on the slopes and among the trees, invisible to anyone marching through the center of the ravine. Elemental mages held the highest positions, knights were hidden among the trees, and archers stood ready for the first wave of arrows.
"Perfect," she murmured to herself, satisfied with the positioning.
General Thorn approached, mounted on a huge black horse fully protected by armor, which contrasted sharply with Aria's pure white steed.
"Princess," he began, his voice laced with false concern, "I've received reports that the enemy army may be divided. I suggest we reposition our mages to cover a larger area."
Aria watched him carefully. She knew this was the first move in his attempt to sabotage the operation, spreading the troops out would make the attack less effective, diluting their concentrated force.
"Interesting, General," she replied with a smile. "Where did these reports come from?"
Thorn hesitated for a moment. "One of our scouts returned with this information an hour ago."
"Curious," Aria tilted her head. "Considering all scouts are to report directly to me, and none have."
"We will maintain our original formation, General. The strength of our attack depends on concentration, not dispersion."
Thorn's face hardened, but he nodded stiffly and retreated. First move neutralized.
"And I did not authorize you to leave."
The general froze and looked at the princess.
"Is there anything else I can help you with?" he asked with a bad feeling.
"Yes, I want the name of the scout who reported to you first, instead of me, the person in charge of this attack."
Thorn began to sweat coldly. There was no scout; everything he did was an attempt to slowly influence the princess, but she seemed more resolute than he had imagined.
Not far away, Weiran watched the interaction with narrowed eyes. Dressed as a common soldier, he kept his distance, his back still raw beneath the armor. Every movement was an agony, feeding his hatred for Aria. He anxiously awaited the first signs of the poison.
Fortunately for General Thorn, a voice cut across the battlefield.
"The scouts have spotted the enemy!" a soldier ran hastily, rushing past the ranks. "Approaching the ambush point!"
Aria raised her hand, signaling for everyone to hold their position and remain silent. The whispering of the trees seemed to grow louder, like demons whispering their desire to see blood.
In the distance, the army of Berovia began to enter the ravine. It was an impressive sight, one hundred thousand men marching in formation, seemingly confident and unaware.
At the vanguard, mounted on an imposing black steed, was James Vogen. His face showed the appropriate determination of a commander leading his troops into battle, but his eyes constantly scanned the slopes, knowing exactly what awaited him. The red stone on his chest, hidden beneath his armor, pulsed faintly.
Aria watched the enemy column advance deeper into the ravine. She needed to wait until the entire army was inside the trap before giving the signal.
"We should attack now," Thorn whispered urgently beside her. "The vanguard is exposed. Our mages could cause great devastation."
It was his second attempt to sabotage the plan, a premature attack would alert the rest of the army, allowing them to regroup.
"Patience, General," Aria replied calmly. "When I give the signal, and not before."
The minutes dragged on, tense and charged with anticipation. The Berovian army continued to advance, moving deeper and deeper into the ravine. When the last soldier finally passed the entry point, Aria raised her sword.
"Now!" she shouted, and her command echoed through the slopes.
In an instant, the silence was broken by the sound of hundreds of mages casting their spells simultaneously. Fireballs, ice lances, and lightning descended upon the Berovian troops like an elemental storm. At the same time, thousands of arrows darkened the sky, some enchanted with penetration magic to pierce common shields.
The Battle of the Whispering Forest had begun.
James, in the center of the ravine, raised his shield as spells and arrows rained down around him. Soldiers screamed in pain and surprise, some falling immediately, others desperately seeking cover. Defense mages tried to erect barriers, but many were struck down before completing their incantations.
"Defensive formation!" he ordered, his voice thundering above the chaos. "Defense mages to the center! Knights, protect the mages! Hold the line!"
While the Berovian army struggled to regroup under the surprise attack, Aria watched with satisfaction. The first phase of her plan was underway, exactly as intended.
The magical storm continued relentlessly, claiming hundreds of lives with each volley. Fireballs exploded among the ranks of soldiers, ice lances pierced armor as if it were fabric, and lightning leaped from one warrior to another, leaving only charred bodies in its wake. The Berovian army, caught by surprise, desperately tried to form a defense, but their position was unfavorable, trapped in the ravine, exposed on all sides. They were like pigs ready for slaughter.
James, however, maintained a calculated calm. As his mages erected barriers and his knights formed a shield wall, he observed the slopes, identifying the positions of Quinn's mages and archers.
"Counter-attack mages, target the enemy positions! Knights, prepare to advance on my command!" he commanded, his voice cutting through the chaos.
On the slope, Aria watched James's movements with interest. Even knowing this was a planned defeat, she admired his competence in commanding his troops under pressure. 'My husband's family is truly capable.' To Aria, the skill wasn't because James was talented, but because he was Han's brother.
"Time for the second phase," she announced. "Elite knights, advance! Support mages, prepare speed and strength enchantments!"
General Thorn quickly intervened: "Princess, it's too early! We should continue with ranged attacks until---"
"The mages have already caused enough confusion," Aria interrupted him firmly. "If we wait any longer, their defense mages will establish complete barriers. Knights, advance now!"
Before Thorn could protest again, the war drums sounded, and thousands of knights, their armor glowing with protective enchantments, their mounts enhanced with magic, charged down the steep slopes without losing speed.
Meanwhile, in the center of the ravine, James felt the red stone on his chest grow warm. The deaths around him were slowly feeding it, and he could feel the power growing. It wasn't time to release it yet; he needed to wait for the perfect opportunity.
"Commander!" shouted a battle mage. "We're surrounded! Enemy knights descending from both sides!"
James nodded gravely. "Prepare for impact. Earth mages, create barriers! Elite knights, form the front line!"
The two forces collided with a deafening roar. Magic and steel met in explosions of light and energy. Quinn's knights faced Berovia's warriors of a similar level, while mages from both sides cast devastating spells that turned the battlefield into a chaos of uncontrolled elements. Friendly fire was common in these moments, and for those on the front lines, it was no surprise to be hit by the magic of an allied mage.
Aria, still observing from above, noticed a strange movement in a certain group of mages. A unit of her fire mages had deviated from the plan, leaving a dangerous opening.
"Who gave the order for those mages to move?" she demanded, her eyes red with fury.
Thorn feigned surprise. "There must have been some confusion in the orders, Princess. I suggest we pull back our knights to cov-"
"No," Aria cut him off. "Third-line ice mages, redirect to that opening! Knights in reserve, exterminate the mages out of position, they are traitors!"
Thorn's eyes widened. "Princess, there's no nee--"
"Silence." It was the only word she said, and the general felt a danger run down his spine.
Aria's orders were relayed quickly, and the breach in the formation was corrected before the Berovian army could exploit the vulnerability. The soldiers who had left the formation screamed that they were innocent, but they were quickly exterminated by the knights sent by Aria. And then, the entire army knew that the general's command was absolute and no one should disobey her.
In the center of the battle, James fought with controlled ferocity. His sword, enchanted with cutting magic, sliced through the air with lethal precision, felling any of Quinn's knights who approached. Around him, his men fought desperately, many falling under the coordinated attack.
It was then that James saw a group of young support mages, recently graduated from the Berovia Academy, cornered by knights. The young mages tried to cast defensive spells, but their inexperience made them slow and ineffective.
"Keep advancing!" he shouted to his nearest officers, before spurring his horse toward the threatened mages.
This was the moment he and Han had planned, his first staged "death situation."
James charged at the Quinn knights, his sword cutting through armor and flesh. For a moment, he seemed invincible, but then, he deliberately allowed a spear thrust to hit his shoulder, knocking him off his horse.
"The commander is wounded!" one of the young mages cried in panic.
James felt the blood run down his arm, the pain real but manageable. He rose again, feigning weakness, as more Quinn knights closed in, sensing the opportunity to take down the enemy leader.
"Retreat!" he ordered the mages. "Save yourselves!"
"We won't leave you, commander!" replied a young mage, positioning himself beside James despite the evident fear in his eyes. The young man began to chant a basic healing spell, his hands trembling.
It was at that moment that James allowed the red stone to release part of its accumulated power. A crimson aura enveloped his body, and his eyes glowed. With a roar, he rose and brandished his sword.
The blade cut through the air with impossible speed, leaving trails of red light in its path. Three Quinn knights fell instantly, their armor torn as if it were made of paper.
"For the glory of Berovia!" James shouted, his voice charged with power.
The young mages watched in amazement as their commander, who had seemed on the verge of defeat moments before, now fought with the strength of a warrior far superior to his known level of 16.
From the top of the slope, Aria observed the demonstration of power with interest. The red stone, similar to the one Han had given Charlotte, clearly granted extraordinary abilities, but it was nothing compared to the power her husband possessed.
"The enemy commander has shown power above his registered level," Thorn muttered beside her, frustration evident in his voice. "We should reconsider our strategy."
Aria smiled coldly; she had ordered him to be silent, but here he was again trying to interfere. "On the contrary, General. It is going exactly as planned. Knights, advance! Wind mages, use magic to propel them!"
As Quinn's cavalry thundered down the slope, propelled by magical winds that increased their speed, the battle entered its bloodiest phase. And at the center of it all, James Vogen shone with supernatural power, protecting his men while secretly executing the plan that would ensure both Aria's victory and his own legend.
In the center of the ravine, James had gathered around him an elite group, warriors from level 12 to 15 and battle mages from level 11 to 13, the most powerful in his army after himself. The red aura around him had subsided, but his power was still visible.
"Commander, Quinn's knights are cutting off our escape route!" an officer reported, blood dripping from a cut on his forehead. "And their wind mages are neutralizing our archers."
James nodded gravely. "Exactly as we expected. Prepare the second line of defense. Earth mages, form barriers at the rear. We need to ensure our men can retreat when necessary."
As he gave his orders, James spotted a group of Quinn knights advancing toward a Berovian medical support unit, composed mainly of healing mages.
"They're targeting the healers," he muttered, before spurring his horse in that direction. "Captain Varen, take command here!"
James rode furiously across the battlefield, dodging enchanted arrows and cutting down any Quinn soldier who stood in his way. The red stone in his chest pulsed, absorbing the energy of the deaths around him, gradually filling up.
When he reached the medical unit, several healing mages had already fallen. A knight was about to deliver a fatal blow to a young healer.
James intercepted the blow with his own sword, the impact creating a magical shockwave that forced them both back.
"Protect the wounded!" he shouted to the surviving mages. "I will buy you time!"
The Quinn knight smiled cruelly. "James Vogen... what an honor. A general against a simple soldier, don't you think that's unfair?"
"War is rarely fair," James replied, taking a combat stance.
James deliberately held back his power, fighting at his opponent's level, creating the illusion of a balanced fight. Blows were exchanged with deadly precision, magical sparks flying as the enchanted blades met.
Gradually, James allowed the Quinn knight to gain the upper hand. A blow struck his face, another cut his thigh. Blood stained his armor in several places.
"The great commander of Berovia isn't as impressive as they say," the Quinn knight taunted, advancing for what seemed to be a final blow.
It was at that moment, his second "death situation", that James activated the power of the red stone again. The crimson aura exploded around him with renewed intensity, and with a movement so fast it was almost invisible, he disarmed the Quinn knight and pierced his chest with his sword.
"Level 17 now," James whispered as his opponent's body fell.
The healing mages and wounded soldiers watched in amazement. The transformation had been dramatic, a wounded and seemingly defeated commander to an invincible warrior in a matter of seconds.
"The commander saved our lives," a level 7 healing mage murmured, wide-eyed.
"He faced an elite knight even while already wounded," another commented in admiration. "And somehow... he got stronger during the fight!"
James felt the power flowing through him, more intense than before. The red stone had absorbed enough energy to elevate him to level 17, and he could feel his abilities expanding, his senses sharpening, his affinity for combat magic increasing.
"Continue treating the wounded," he ordered. "Prepare to retreat when I give the signal."
On the slope, Aria observed the display of power with clinical interest. She could sense the change in James's level even from a distance, a rare ability that few possessed.
"The enemy commander leveled up during the battle," she commented, more to herself than to others.
"Impossible," Thorn replied. "No one levels up that quickly."
"It doesn't matter," Aria smiled. "General, order our knights to concentrate on the north. It is time to close the encirclement."
Thorn hesitated, clearly trying to find a way to sabotage the order. "Princess, that will leave our center exposed. I suggest that--"
"I am not asking for suggestions, General," Aria cut him off coldly. "I am giving a direct order. Execute it immediately or you will face the consequences for further insubordination on the battlefield."
Thorn's face paled slightly. Insubordination during combat was punishable by immediate death, and Aria had already proven she was not afraid to use it.
"As you wish, Princess," he replied stiffly, moving away to relay the orders.
Weiran, observing from his position among the common soldiers, felt a mixture of anger and confusion. Aria should be starting to feel the effects of the poison by now, weakness, mental confusion, difficulty concentrating. However, she commanded with flawless clarity and precision. He had ordered Thorn to disrupt Aria on the premise that she would not be in a good mental state, but now, everything seemed normal.
"Why isn't it working?" he muttered to himself, watching his sister with growing hatred.
The battle continued to unfold below them, the Berovian army gradually losing ground, exactly as planned. But for the soldiers on both sides, the fight was real, the blood spilled was true, and the legend of James Vogen grew with every moment.
The sun began to set, the battle having raged for hours, and the floor of the ravine was covered in bodies and blood. The Berovian army, initially one hundred thousand strong, now fought desperately to maintain some semblance of formation as Quinn's forces attacked from all sides.
In the center of the battle, James Vogen fought like a demon incarnate. The red stone on his chest shone brightly, fed by the countless deaths around him. He had ascended to level 17, and his power was visible to all, his sword left trails of crimson light in the air as he carved a path through the enemy lines.
"Hold the formation! Protect the right flank!" James ordered, his voice cutting through the chaos of battle.
A Quinn battle mage lunged at him, his hands wreathed in intensely hot blue flames. The mage launched a blast of magical fire that melted the ground where James had been a second before.
"Today you die, insect from Berovia!" the mage shouted, invoking a circle of runes in the air that began to spin rapidly.
James dodged another attack, feigning difficulty. It was his third planned "death situation," the perfect moment to demonstrate another power increase. He allowed a blast of magical energy to partially hit him, sending him flying into a nearby tree with enough force to crack the trunk.
Around them, soldiers from both sides slowed their fighting, watching the duel between the two high-level warriors. A group of Berovian knights, whom James had saved earlier, cried out in despair seeing their commander fall.
"Commander James! Get up!"
The Quinn mage smiled victoriously, gathering energy for his final blow. "Your level is no match for my superior magic. In the end, a knight, no matter how great, is nothing more than an insect." The mage's comment angered not only his enemies but his allies as well.
It was at that moment that James activated the power of the red stone again. The aura around him exploded with renewed intensity, and his eyes glowed like living embers. With a movement that seemed to defy the laws of physics, he rose and, in a single gesture, created a blood-red shockwave that dissipated the mage's spell and struck him head-on.
The Quinn mage was thrown backward, his body crashing through three trees before stopping, completely still, his eyes still open in shock.
"Level 18," James murmured, feeling the power flowing through his veins like liquid fire.
On the slope, Aria observed the display of power. Even from a distance, she could sense the change in James's level. It was impressive; three level-ups during a single battle was unheard of.
"The enemy commander has leveled up again," General Thorn commented, his voice filled with genuine concern for the first time. "This is... impossible. Not even an elite cultivator could..."
"Not all is as it seems, General," Aria replied enigmatically. "Elite knights, advance! Elite mages, prepare the combined spell! It is time to end this battle."
On the battlefield, James gathered his closest officers. "The Quinn army is closing the encirclement. Prepare for a strategic withdrawal."
"But commander," protested a level 15 captain, "we still have the strength to fight! With your new power, we could---"
"This battle is lost," James declared with calculated firmness. "Our priority now is to save as many lives as possible. I will cover the rear while you lead the troops out of the ravine."
The officers exchanged worried glances, but no one dared to question the direct order. James had proven his worth repeatedly during the battle, saving countless lives and demonstrating power beyond comprehension.
"As you command, commander," the captain replied, striking his chest in a sign of respect.
James then mounted his warhorse and galloped to the front line, where the fighting was most intense. His red aura shone like a beacon, drawing the attention of everyone on the battlefield.
"Soldiers of Berovia!" he shouted, his voice amplified by the power of the red stone. "Retreat in an orderly fashion! I will keep the enemy busy!"
As the Berovian troops began to retreat in a disciplined manner, James single-handedly faced a wave of Quinn's knights and mages. His sword danced in the air, each blow felling an enemy. Even elite knights and mages fell like flies before his level 18 power.
On the slope, Aria watched the demonstration with a satisfied smile. The plan was working perfectly. James was creating a legend for himself, while ensuring that the Quinn army achieved an overwhelming victory.
"Princess," a messenger called, kneeling beside her. "The enemy troops are in retreat. Should we pursue them?"
Aria considered for a moment, watching James, who single-handedly kept dozens of her best warriors occupied.
"No," she decided. "Let them go. We have already won a decisive victory today. We suffered only eight thousand casualties against about half of their army. The Kingdom of Quinn has shown its strength."
General Thorn frowned. "Princess, with all due respect, we should pursue them and eliminate as many as possible. If we let the enemy commander escape..."
"Your concern is admirable, General," Aria interrupted him coldly, "but my decision is final. Sound the trumpets of victory and gather our wounded."
As the trumpets echoed through the ravine, James allowed himself a small smile. He had fulfilled his part of the plan. Now, with a "heroic" retreat, his reputation would grow enormously, while Aria would be celebrated as a brilliant strategist who defeated an army twice the size of her own.
With one last look at the battlefield, James sighed. The ground was a red mass of limbs and bodies, trees were stained red, and the rotten smell of burnt flesh was in his nose. He departed on his horse to join his retreating troops. The Battle of the Whispering Forest was over. Nearly 60,000 people had died in a game between two brothers and a princess.