Borg fell onto his knees, eyes wide with horror as he watched the flames devour Craige's position. The air was filled with screams, soldiers, both ally and enemy,
writhing as fire consumed them. His chest tightened, his mind frozen, unable to look away from the inferno.
He never noticed the enemy soldier creeping up behind him. Steel glinted in the firelight as the man raised his sword, aiming straight for Borg's neck.
Slashhh—Clang!
The sharp ring of clashing steel jolted Borg from his daze.
"Why are you kneeling in the middle of the battlefield?" a familiar voice cut through
the chaos.
Borg's eyes snapped up, disbelief flooding him. "ROLEN!!!" he gasped, just as Rolen's blade sliced cleanly through the enemy, the man's head toppling to the ground.
Before Borg could catch his breath, another figure stepped into the firelight.
"The war isn't over, buddy," the man said with a half-smile, gripping his bloodied sword.
Borg's throat tightened. "Venn…?! You're here?"
Venn gave him a firm nod, his smile steady even amidst the carnage. "The Duke is still
alive," he said with conviction. "So let's finish this… and when it's done, we'll have that drink at home—together."
He turned his head toward where the Duke once stood… How can this be? He saw the arrow strike, saw the place engulfed—there was no escape. Yet deep in his heart, he
had clung to hope, to the fragile belief that perhaps a miracle could still happen.
"Forward! Strike them down!"
Borg's eyes widened as the ground shook beneath the thunder of hooves. Hundreds of men, armored and fierce, surged forward on horseback. They swept across the field
like a raging storm, swift as the wind, their battle cries booming like thunder. The enemy, once confident in victory, faltered in confusion as men began to fall in waves, cut down before they could even react.
"King Carl…!? Y-You're alive!" Borg gasped in disbelief, his voice trembling as the
King himself rode forward, radiant amidst the chaos, a living banner of hope.
King Carl's gaze was unyielding, his voice commanding yet warm as he raised his sword high. "Take the wounded back to camp! Rolen, aid Haelis in treating Craige. Leave the rest to us!" He met Borg's stunned eyes and added with a reassuring smile,
"You've done enough, big man. Go and rest."
Before Borg could even answer, another voice roared.
"March to the battlefield!"
Venn's cry echoed like a war horn, and from the northern ridges, an overwhelming tide of
soldiers poured down. Armor glinted in the sunlight, banners whipped in the wind, and their disciplined ranks crashed upon the enemy like an unrelenting flood. The enemy froze in disbelief, their triumph turning to horror as they realized, they had been outmaneuvered, ambushed from every side.
The once-roaring battlefield fell into stunned silence before erupting again, this
time with the furious cries of King Carl's army, who descended like judgment itself upon their foes.
---
Craige slowly opened his eyes. His lips parted in a faint whisper.
"Luren…"
"Glad you're alive, brother."
He turned
toward the voice, his eyes widening.
"Carl!?" His breath hitched, a wave of relief and disbelief washing over him. "I should
be the one saying that… I'm glad you're still alive." He tried to sit up, but pain pulled at his body.
"Don't move yet!" a firm voice commanded as a man pressed a hand against his chest.
"Your Grace…" Rolen quickly stepped in to support the man, gently guiding Craige back
down onto the bed.
"You still need to rest," the man insisted, his tone both stern and careful.
Craige's brows furrowed. His memories flooded back—the fire raining down from above, the suffocating heat, then the sudden cool weight of mud engulfing him before
everything went dark.
"How… how am I still alive?" he asked, voice trembling.
"Haelis saved you," Carl replied quietly. He glanced at the man, something unspoken
flickering between them, the air suddenly thick with tension.
"He is an omega," Carl continued, his gaze steady now, "and he has the power to move the earth itself."
"Power?!" Craige asked, his brows furrowing in confusion.
"I was like your child," Haelis said weakly, his hand pressed against his wounds. "My
mother was an omega… and the moon blessed me with the power of the earth
element."
"My… child?" Craige's confusion deepened, his eyes widening in disbelief.
"Your soon-to-be child," Carl added with a faint smile. "They will be born with a
gift—power unlike any other."
Craige clenched his fists, determination flashing in his eyes. "I need to save
Luren. Tell me, how goes the war?"
"The enemy's soldiers have been crushed by the Death Squad and your Northern Army,"
the King replied firmly. "And word has spread that the Velagrith army has already taken Seravelle. Their king won't send reinforcements, which means we can strike back soon."
Craige exhaled in relief, his heart pounding. "I'm glad you're alive… but why did you
only return now? What happened to you?"
"It's a long story. I'll tell you once everything has settled," Carl replied.
"Death Squad? That was Father's elite army. I thought they were disbanded after his
death," Craige asked, still confused.
"I made my own Death Squad—trained by Father's right-hand man, Uncle Logan," Carl said proudly, his tone carrying both confidence and defiance.
Craige smiled faintly. He never imagined his nerdy elder brother could form such a
powerful unit of elite soldiers. But then again, Carl was brilliant, perhaps even more than he gave him credit for.
"I need to move soon… Luren needs me," Craige muttered, his expression tightening with urgency.
"Just a few more days. Some of your wounds still need to heal before you can move again," Haelis said softly, his head lowered as though he couldn't bring himself to meet Craige's eyes.
Craige could feel the tension lingering between Haelis and Carl. Whatever had happened between them, it was something they would have to sort out on their own.
"Get some rest," Carl added before leaving the tent. "I'll prepare everything for your
departure to Velgarith."
When the tent flap closed, Craige turned to Haelis. "Did you save Carl?"
Haelis nodded silently. But then, why did the two of them feel so distant?
"I'll go with you to Velgarith," Haelis said suddenly, lifting his gaze. "I know a faster way, one that might help you save my cousin."
"Your cousin?" Craige asked, startled.
"Yes… Luren is my cousin," Haelis admitted, his voice trembling. Then he drew in a breath. "And I am the third prince of Velgarith."
Craige's eyes widened in shock. He hadn't expected such a revelation.
"It's a long story too, but I'll explain everything once we rescue Luren. Please…" Haelis's voice broke as he begged, "Please don't tell the King."
Craige placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry. I won't. We still have
a lot to do."
His heart felt heavy with everything that had happened—and with everything still ahead.
He only hoped that when it was all over, they could finally return home…together, with Luren by their side.
End of part 1.