The road toward Icepeak Territory stretched endlessly beneath a pale winter sky.
Snow-covered mountains rose in the distance, their peaks disappearing into clouds that seemed almost frozen in place. The farther north they traveled, the colder the air became.
A luxurious carriage moved steadily along the snow-covered road.
Inside sat three people.
Erek.
Thorek Icepeak.
And one of Thorek's trusted knights.
The carriage swayed gently as its wheels crossed the uneven road.
Erek sat beside the window, silently watching the frozen landscape pass by.
His crimson eyes remained fixed upon the distant mountains.
Icepeak Territory.
That was where they were going.
That was where the reports claimed Dark Beings had been seen.
Thorek glanced toward the young prince.
For several moments, he said nothing.
Then he finally spoke.
"Prince Erek."
Erek turned his head.
"Yes?"
Thorek hesitated before continuing.
"Will you really be alright going there alone?"
Erek's expression remained calm.
"I'm not alone."
Thorek frowned slightly.
"You're taking Zox."
"Yes."
"Only Zox."
Erek nodded.
Thorek sighed.
"At least take some of the knights from Icepeak with you."
He leaned forward slightly.
"They will do everything you command. Every one of them is trained specifically for this territory."
Erek looked at him.
"I appreciate the offer."
"But?"
Erek turned his gaze back toward the window.
"But Zox is enough."
Thorek's eyebrow twitched.
"Enough?"
Erek nodded.
"More than enough."
Thorek stared at him.
Erek calmly continued.
"Besides..."
His eyes shifted toward the road ahead.
"Zox is more powerful than any of your knights."
Silence filled the carriage.
The knight sitting opposite them slowly looked toward Thorek.
Thorek's expression became complicated.
"My strongest knight?"
Erek nodded.
"Yes."
Thorek let out a quiet breath.
"I see."
He leaned back.
"Then I suppose I'll have to see for myself."
---
Outside the carriage...
A group of knights rode through the snow.
Their horses' hooves struck the frozen ground rhythmically.
Clop.
Clop.
Clop.
Among them rode Zox.
His expression was unusually cheerful.
He had heard every word spoken inside the carriage.
Especially one sentence.
Zox is more powerful than any of your knights.
Zox couldn't stop smiling.
"My lord praised me..."
He whispered to himself.
A knight riding beside him glanced over.
"Did you say something?"
Zox immediately straightened.
"No."
The knight stared at him.
"You've been smiling for the past hour."
Zox's smile became even wider.
"My lord praised me."
"What?"
"My lord praised me!"
He looked so happy that the knight didn't know whether to laugh or worry.
Zox placed a hand against his chest.
"I have served Lord Erek faithfully for so long..."
His eyes sparkled.
"And finally..."
He clenched his fist.
"He recognized my greatness."
The knight beside him sighed.
"You're strange."
Zox proudly lifted his chin.
---
Days passed.
The journey continued.
Mountains became larger.
The roads became narrower.
The snow became deeper.
Eventually...
The enormous frozen walls of Icepeak Territory appeared in the distance.
Night had already fallen.
The moon hung above the mountains, illuminating the snow with a cold silver glow.
Torches burned along the walls.
The massive gates of Icepeak opened.
The carriage slowly passed through.
Clop.
Clop.
Clop.
Erek looked outside.
Icepeak Territory was quiet.
Too quiet.
Thorek noticed his expression.
"We've arrived."
Erek nodded.
"Good."
The carriage continued toward the mansion belonging to House Icepeak.
But before they could reach it—
"STOP!"
The command echoed through the night.
The horses suddenly slowed.
The knights looked toward the source of the voice.
A man stood in the middle of the road.
He wore heavy black-and-silver armor.
A long sword hung from his waist.
His silver hair moved gently in the cold wind.
His eyes were sharp.
Every knight immediately recognized him.
"Captain Yuan..."
Whispers spread through the group.
Yuan.
The strongest knight of Icepeak.
The captain who had never lost a formal sword duel.
He stepped forward.
His gaze moved toward the carriage.
Then toward Zox.
"I heard something interesting."
Zox raised an eyebrow.
Yuan pointed toward him.
"You."
Zox looked behind himself.
"Me?"
"Yes."
Yuan's hand moved toward his sword.
"I want to challenge you."
The surrounding knights immediately became excited.
"A duel?"
"Captain Yuan is challenging him?"
"Who is that man?"
"That's Prince Erek's servant."
"Servant?"
"Why would Captain Yuan challenge a servant?"
Thorek stepped out of the carriage.
"Yuan."
The knight immediately bowed.
"My lord."
"What are you doing?"
Yuan straightened.
"I wish to test Prince Erek's companion."
His eyes remained fixed on Zox.
"I heard His Highness claim that this man is stronger than every knight in Icepeak."
The surrounding knights began whispering.
Thorek's expression became slightly uncomfortable.
Yuan continued.
"I cannot simply accept that."
Erek stepped out of the carriage.
His black hair moved gently in the freezing wind.
He looked at Yuan.
Then at Zox.
Zox immediately understood.
He smiled.
"My lord."
Erek nodded.
"Go ahead."
Zox's smile widened.
"Yes."
One of the knights handed him a sword.
Zox casually took it.
He examined the blade for a moment.
Then looked at Yuan.
"Ready?"
Yuan drew his own sword.
SHING!
The sound echoed through the frozen night.
He lowered his body.
His feet dug into the snow.
The surrounding knights immediately backed away.
Thorek folded his arms.
Erek remained completely still.
Yuan's eyes narrowed.
"Begin!"
---
CLASH!
Yuan vanished.
Snow exploded beneath his feet.
His body shot forward like an arrow.
BOOM!
His sword came toward Zox's neck.
Zox didn't move.
At the final instant—
CLANG!
The blade stopped.
Zox had raised his sword.
One hand.
No effort.
Yuan's eyes widened.
"What—?"
Zox had blocked the strike perfectly.
Not deflected.
Not avoided.
Blocked.
The sword remained completely still against Yuan's blade.
The surrounding knights fell silent.
Zox looked at him.
"Is that all?"
Yuan's expression hardened.
He pulled his sword back.
Then attacked again.
A horizontal slash.
SHING!
Zox lifted his sword.
CLANG!
Blocked.
Yuan immediately changed direction.
A vertical strike.
CLANG!
Blocked.
A thrust toward the chest.
CLANG!
Blocked.
A slash toward the legs.
Zox stepped half a pace backward.
CLANG!
Blocked.
Again.
Again.
Again.
The sound of steel filled the night.
CLANG!
CLANG!
CLANG!
CLANG!
Yuan's breathing became heavier.
Zox's breathing didn't change.
Not even slightly.
The knights stared.
"He's blocking everything..."
"Captain Yuan hasn't landed a single hit."
"Impossible."
"He's not even attacking!"
Thorek's eyes narrowed.
He watched carefully.
Zox wasn't merely defending.
He wasn't struggling.
He wasn't even concentrating.
His sword moved only when necessary.
A tiny movement of the wrist.
A slight shift of the blade.
A single step.
Nothing more.
Yuan suddenly stepped back.
His chest rose and fell.
He stared at Zox.
He's reading my attacks.
His grip tightened.
No.
He's not reading them.
Yuan's eyes narrowed.
He's already waiting for them.
His expression changed.
The knights noticed.
"Captain Yuan changed his stance."
"He's going to use his real technique."
Yuan lowered his sword.
His feet shifted.
He began moving around Zox.
One step.
Then another.
Zox turned slowly to follow him.
Yuan suddenly accelerated.
He attacked from the side.
SHING!
Zox raised his sword.
CLANG!
Yuan immediately spun.
A second strike came from behind.
Zox turned.
CLANG!
Yuan jumped.
His sword descended from above.
BOOOOOOM!
Zox raised his sword overhead.
The force of the collision caused snow to explode around their feet.
Several knights shielded their faces.
When the snow settled...
Zox was still standing.
His feet hadn't moved.
Yuan landed several meters away.
His expression was becoming serious.
"Again!"
He charged.
This time he attacked continuously.
Left.
Right.
High.
Low.
Thrust.
Slash.
Spin.
Every attack flowed into the next.
Yuan's sword became a blur beneath the moonlight.
CLANG!
CLANG!
CLANG!
CLANG!
But Zox blocked every single strike.
The knights couldn't believe what they were seeing.
"Captain Yuan is using the Frostwind Sword Style!"
"He's attacking from every angle!"
"How is that man blocking everything?!"
"He's not even sweating!"
One knight swallowed nervously.
"Captain Yuan is the strongest swordsman in Icepeak..."
Another whispered.
"And that man is treating him like a training exercise."
Thorek's face slowly changed.
He looked at Erek.
Erek simply watched.
Calm.
Completely calm.
Thorek remembered the conversation inside the carriage.
Zox is more powerful than any of your knights.
He had thought Erek was simply confident in his servant.
But now...
He understood.
Erek hadn't been exaggerating.
Not even slightly.
Yuan suddenly roared.
"HA!"
His sword came down with all his strength.
BOOOOOOM!
Zox blocked.
The ground beneath them cracked.
Yuan pushed harder.
His muscles tightened.
Veins appeared across his arms.
"Move!"
Zox didn't.
Yuan gritted his teeth.
"Move!"
Still nothing.
Zox looked at him almost sympathetically.
"You're strong."
Yuan's eyes widened.
"But..."
Zox pushed his sword slightly.
Yuan's entire body slid backward through the snow.
"...you're not strong enough."
Yuan's boots carved two deep lines through the frozen ground.
The knights stared.
Thorek's mouth slowly opened.
Yuan stopped himself.
He was breathing heavily now.
Zox still looked perfectly relaxed.
Yuan lowered his sword for a moment.
His mind raced.
Physical strength isn't working.
Speed isn't working.
Technique isn't working.
Then...
His eyes sharpened.
I'll use everything.
He changed his stance again.
The knights immediately recognized it.
"Captain..."
"He's using the final technique."
"Is he serious?"
Yuan crouched.
Mana began gathering around his sword.
The air trembled.
Snow lifted from the ground.
Zox's expression finally changed.
Not fear.
Interest.
Yuan's eyes burned.
"This ends now!"
He vanished.
The world seemed to freeze.
A streak of silver crossed the battlefield.
Yuan appeared directly in front of Zox.
His sword was already moving.
SHIIIIING!
The blade aimed directly for Zox's chest.
Zox raised his sword.
CLANG!
The attack stopped.
The impact sent a shockwave through the surrounding snow.
Yet Zox remained standing.
Yuan's eyes widened.
Zox looked directly into his eyes.
"You should stop."
Yuan gritted his teeth.
"Not yet!"
He twisted his body.
His sword changed direction.
Zox blocked.
Yuan attacked again.
Blocked.
Again.
Blocked.
Again.
Blocked.
The surrounding knights became completely silent.
They had stopped cheering.
They had stopped speaking.
They were simply watching.
Their strongest captain...
Was completely helpless.
Thorek slowly turned toward Erek.
The young prince hadn't moved.
He was still watching the fight with that same calm expression.
Thorek finally understood.
He was telling the truth.
Zox wasn't merely stronger than some of his knights.
He was stronger than all of them.
Yuan suddenly staggered.
His breathing was ragged.
His arms trembled.
His sword lowered slightly.
Zox remained untouched.
Erek finally spoke.
"Zox."
Zox turned his head.
"My lord?"
Erek sighed.
"Stop playing around."
Zox blinked.
The surrounding knights froze.
Erek's crimson eyes narrowed.
"Finish the match."
Zox smiled.
"Understood."
Yuan's instincts screamed.
Something was wrong.
He immediately raised his sword.
But—
Zox disappeared.
There was no explosion.
No roar.
No dramatic movement.
One moment...
Zox stood several meters away.
The next—
He was directly behind Yuan.
SHING.
Silence.
Yuan's eyes widened.
His sword slipped from his fingers.
Clang.
It struck the snow.
Yuan slowly looked down.
A thin line had appeared across the armor covering his chest.
Zox had stopped his sword exactly before it could cut deeply.
Yuan's knees weakened.
He fell to one knee.
The battle was over.
No one spoke.
The strongest knight of Icepeak...
Had been defeated in an instant.
Zox sheathed the sword.
"Sorry."
He smiled.
"I may have taken too long."
The knights stared at him.
Thorek remained completely silent.
Then he slowly looked toward Erek.
Erek simply walked past him.
"Let's go."
Thorek followed.
But his expression had changed.
He now understood something very clearly.
The boy beside him wasn't simply a prince who had recently awakened his mana.
He was someone who had begun gathering forces far beyond Frostalia's expectations.
---
That night...
The mansion of House Icepeak stood beneath the moonlight.
Inside one of the guest rooms, Erek sat near the window.
Zox stood before him.
"My lord."
Erek turned.
"What is it?"
Zox bowed slightly.
"What is your plan?"
Erek remained silent for several seconds.
Then—
"I'm going to create a new house within Frostalia."
Zox blinked.
"A new house?"
Erek nodded.
"Yes."
"What house is that?"
Erek looked directly at him.
"House Darkain."
Zox froze.
For several seconds, he didn't speak.
Then his eyes widened.
"Darkain..."
Erek nodded.
"But if I'm going to establish House Darkain..."
He slowly stood.
"I need someone to represent it."
Zox stared at him.
Erek walked toward him.
"And I've chosen you."
Zox pointed toward himself.
"Me?"
"Yes."
Zox's eyes immediately filled with excitement.
"You chose me?"
Erek nodded.
"From today onward, things will be different."
Zox's expression became serious.
Erek continued.
"When you're serving as my butler..."
His gaze hardened.
"You will remain in your human form."
Zox nodded.
"And when you become the Blazing Demon..."
Erek paused.
"You will take your true demonic form and will lead House Darkain."
Zox understood.
Erek's voice became firm.
"From today onward..."
He looked directly into Zox's eyes.
"Zox and the Blazing Demon will be treated as two separate identities."
Zox slowly smiled.
"Understood, my lord."
He placed his fist against his chest.
"I will not disappoint you."
Erek turned toward the window.
Outside, the moonlight illuminated the frozen mountains.
Tomorrow...
They would enter Icepeak Territory.
Tomorrow...
They would find the Dark Beings.
And tomorrow...
The first steps of House Darkain would begin.
---
The Next Morning
The sun had barely risen above the mountains.
Erek stood outside the mansion.
Beside him stood Zox.
In his human form.
Dressed as a proper butler.
His expression was calm.
His presence was completely different from the monster who had effortlessly defeated Yuan the previous night.
Erek looked toward the distant mountains.
"Let's go."
Zox bowed.
"Yes, my lord."
Erek thinks
"This is my first step towards restoring Darkain Empire"
"I Hope everything will go as my plan"
Far from the frozen mountains of Icepeak...
Within the magnificent Royal Palace of Sanctoria, the night had settled over the kingdom.
Moonlight poured through the enormous windows of the throne room
The throne room was quiet.
At the far end of the chamber, Queen Seraphine sat upon her throne.
Her long purple hair flowed gracefully over her shoulders, while her violet eyes rested upon the man standing before her.
Drakar.
He stood several steps away, his posture perfectly composed.
For several moments, neither spoke.
Then Seraphine broke the silence.
"Drakar."
Drakar immediately lowered himself onto one knee.
"My Queen."
Seraphine's gaze remained on him.
"I think you will have to return to the front lines."
Drakar slowly raised his head.
"The front lines?"
"Against the Kingdom of Leonhart."
A brief silence followed.
Drakar's expression didn't change.
"If that is your command..."
He lowered his head again.
"...I will go."
Seraphine smiled faintly.
"I knew you would."
Her eyes moved toward the large military map resting upon the table beside her throne.
"Leonhart has begun mobilizing its army once again."
Drakar stood slowly.
"How many?"
"Seventy-six thousand."
His crimson eyes narrowed slightly.
"And Sanctoria?"
"Thirty thousand."
Silence.
The difference was enormous.
More than twice their number.
Seraphine rose from her throne and walked toward the map.
"Our forces are heavily outnumbered."
She placed her hand upon the edge of the table.
"Yet I want you to turn the situation around."
Drakar watched her carefully.
"Turn it around..."
"Yes."
Seraphine turned toward him.
"I want you to win."
Drakar remained silent.
Then Seraphine continued.
"And if you do..."
Her violet eyes seemed to sharpen.
"I will allow you to choose any weapon or artifact you desire from the Royal Treasury."
For the first time...
Something stirred within Drakar.
His expression remained perfectly calm.
But inside his mind—
The Royal Treasury...
The words echoed.
Any weapon or artifact?
His thoughts immediately returned to one name.
Falmeth.
The sword of his former king.
The sword Seraphine had taken as a trophy after Kritos fell.
Drakar's fingers slowly tightened.
So the treasury really is open to me...
He kept his eyes lowered.
If Fallmeth is there...
His heart remained steady.
Then this war may be the opportunity I've been waiting for.
Seraphine watched him.
"Would you be pleased with such a reward?"
Drakar immediately bowed.
"I would be honored, My Queen."
A faint smile appeared on Seraphine's lips.
"Then bring me victory."
Drakar placed his fist against his chest.
"I will do everything you command."
Seraphine nodded.
"You may leave."
Drakar turned toward the enormous doors.
His footsteps echoed across the chamber.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
He was almost at the door when—
"Oh, Drakar."
He stopped.
Slowly, he turned his head.
Seraphine was still standing beside the map.
Her expression was calm.
"You cannot take Shalo with you."
Drakar's eyes changed.
Only for an instant.
But the change was there.
"...My Queen?"
"I have another mission for him."
Drakar stared at her.
Silence stretched between them.
Shalo.
His trusted partner.
The one person who knew about Falmeth.
The one person who could teleport them away the moment Drakar obtained the sword.
Without him...
Drakar's thoughts immediately shifted toward the battlefield.
Thirty thousand against seventy-six thousand.
His eyes narrowed.
And one of Leonhart's strongest mages is coming.
Then another thought followed.
Without Shalo...
His jaw tightened.
Victory can't be guaranteed.
He slowly turned toward Seraphine.
"My Queen..."
Seraphine looked at him.
Drakar's voice remained respectful.
"But he is my part—"
"Are you trying to defy me?"
The warmth had disappeared from Seraphine's voice.
The atmosphere inside the throne room changed.
Drakar stopped.
For a moment, neither moved.
Seraphine's violet eyes remained fixed upon him.
Drakar understood.
This was not a request.
It was an order.
His expression immediately softened.
He lowered his head.
"No, My Queen."
His voice was quiet.
"I would never defy you."
Seraphine continued watching him.
Then her expression returned to its usual calmness.
"Good."
Drakar bowed once more.
"I will depart immediately."
He turned toward the doors.
They opened.
Cold air flowed into the throne room.
Drakar stepped through.
The doors slowly closed behind him.
BOOM.
Only after they were completely shut...
Did Drakar's expression darken.
His crimson eyes became cold.
She took Shalo away.
His hand slowly tightened.
Of course she did.
He began walking down the corridor.
His footsteps echoed through the empty palace.
But it doesn't matter.
His eyes narrowed.
I'll win.
A faint smile appeared.
I'll reach the Royal Treasury.
And somewhere inside that treasury...
The sword of the Demon King waited.
Falmeth.
A Royal Knight approaching from the opposite direction suddenly bowed.
"Sir Drakar."
Drakar stopped.
"Yes?"
"Her Majesty has ordered that your army be assembled immediately."
Drakar gave a calm nod.
"Tell the generals to prepare."
"Yes, Sir."
The knight hurried away.
Drakar watched him disappear around the corner.
Only when the corridor was empty again did his expression change.
His crimson eyes became cold.
I came here for Falmeth.
He looked toward the enormous windows at the end of the corridor.
Beyond them, the lights of Sanctoria's capital glittered beneath the evening sky.
I didn't come here to become a hero.
He turned away.
"And I certainly didn't come here to die for Sanctoria."
Then he walked on.
---
Three Days Later
The gates of Sanctoria opened before sunrise.
Cold morning air swept across the capital.
The sound of horns rolled through the streets.
BOOOOOOM...
BOOOOOOM...
Thirty thousand soldiers stood outside the city.
They stretched across the plains like an endless sea of steel.
Infantry stood in disciplined ranks.
Archers waited beside their supply wagons.
Cavalry sat upon armored horses.
Mage units stood together beneath the banners of Sanctoria.
The Royal Knights were positioned near the front.
And before them all...
Drakar sat upon his horse.
His crimson hair moved gently in the morning wind.
His white-and-gold armor reflected the pale sunlight.
His eyes traveled across the army.
Thirty thousand.
He could hear the nervousness in the soldiers around him.
Quiet conversations.
Clinking armor.
Horses snorting.
The creaking of wagons.
The occasional cough.
Nobody said it openly.
But everyone knew.
They were going against a larger army.
Drakar looked toward the road ahead.
Seventy-six thousand.
He tightened his grip on the reins.
Then raised his voice.
"Move."
The order traveled through the ranks.
"ADVANCE!"
The army began marching.
Thousands of boots struck the earth.
THUD.
THUD.
THUD.
The banners of Sanctoria rose above them.
Drakar rode at the front.
His face showed no fear.
But inside...
He was calculating.
If I win, I receive access to the treasury.
His eyes narrowed.
If I reach the treasury...
His thoughts returned to the sword.
Falmeth.
For the first time that morning, he smiled.
---
The Fourth Night
They had traveled far from Sanctoria.
The army finally stopped on a broad stretch of land surrounded by low hills.
Campfires appeared one after another as darkness descended.
Tents were erected.
Horses were fed.
Weapons were inspected.
Scouts disappeared into the surrounding wilderness.
Drakar remained outside his command tent.
He stood alone beneath the night sky.
The stars were unusually bright.
A cold wind moved across the plains, carrying the distant sounds of soldiers settling down for the night.
Drakar looked toward the darkness.
Nothing.
No enemy.
Not yet.
A soldier approached.
"Sir Drakar."
Drakar turned.
"All commanders have arrived."
"Good."
He entered the command tent.
---
Inside, a large map covered the wooden table.
Six commanders stood around it.
The first was a massive man with broad shoulders and short gray hair. A thick scar ran from beneath his right eye toward his jaw.
Commander Garran Stonewall.
He commanded Sanctoria's heavy infantry.
Beside him stood a woman with long dark-brown hair tied behind her head. Her eyes were sharp and observant.
Commander Elira Vane.
She commanded the army's archers.
The third was a tall knight with blond hair and a neatly trimmed beard.
Commander Lucien Hart.
He commanded Sanctoria's cavalry.
The fourth was a thin man with silver-rimmed glasses and several scrolls tucked beneath his arm.
Commander Theron.
He commanded the battlefield mages.
The fifth was an older woman with short silver hair and an imposing presence.
Commander Maera Frost.
She commanded the shield formations.
And the final commander was a quiet man who stood slightly apart from everyone else.
His short black hair was beginning to gray at the sides.
His face was weathered from decades of military campaigns.
Commander Darian Voss.
He was responsible for reconnaissance.
Drakar stepped toward the table.
Everyone straightened.
"Report."
Darian placed several markers onto the map.
"Our scouts have confirmed Leonhart's position."
Drakar looked down.
"How many?"
"Approximately seventy-six thousand."
The tent became quiet.
Garran slowly exhaled.
"That's considerably more than our thirty thousand."
Lucien folded his arms.
"How are they positioned?"
Darian moved several markers.
"Main infantry in the center. Cavalry on both wings. Archers behind the center."
He paused.
"And their mage forces are positioned behind the main formation."
Drakar's eyes remained on the map.
"How many?"
Theron answered.
"Twelve confirmed combat mages."
Drakar looked at him.
"Ranks?"
Theron opened one of his scrolls.
"We have one High Arcanist."
The commanders immediately became more serious.
"Three Arcane Masters."
Theron placed four markers on the map.
"The remaining eight are Spell Masters and Arcane Adepts."
Drakar's eyes rested on the marker representing the High Arcanist.
"Do we know who?"
"Yes."
Theron pointed to the marker.
"His name is Armand."
Drakar said nothing.
Theron continued.
"He specializes in large-scale offensive magic. Fire and wind."
Garran frowned.
"That alone could destroy an infantry formation."
Theron nodded.
"Exactly."
Lucien looked toward the map.
"And the Arcane Masters?"
"Two specialize in defensive and support magic."
Theron moved two markers.
"The third..."
He paused.
"...is Valerian."
Drakar's eyes lifted.
"Tell me about him."
Theron looked toward him.
"Valerian is an earth mage. His specialty is manipulating terrain."
Drakar's expression hardened.
"How long until he arrives?"
Darian answered.
"Our scouts estimate two days."
Silence.
Garran placed both hands against the table.
"Then we attack before he gets here."
Elira immediately shook her head.
"No."
Garran looked at her.
"Why?"
"Because we're outnumbered."
She pointed toward the map.
"Seventy-six thousand against thirty thousand."
Her finger moved across the enemy formation.
"If we attack them directly, their numbers will crush us."
Garran frowned.
"So we defend."
Lucien shook his head.
"That won't work either."
Everyone looked toward him.
"Why?"
Lucien pointed toward the road behind their position.
"Because Leonhart has enough soldiers to surround us."
He moved a marker.
"Once they realize we're refusing battle..."
He moved another.
"They'll send part of their army around our flank."
Darian nodded.
"And if they cut our supply route..."
Maera finished the thought.
"We'll be trapped."
The tent became quiet again.
Drakar stared at the map.
No one spoke.
The only sound was the faint crackling of the lantern beside the table.
Then Drakar asked:
"What do we know about the land?"
Darian looked up.
"To our north, there are low hills."
He pointed.
"To the west, a dense forest."
His finger moved.
"To the east, open ground."
Then he pointed farther north.
"And beyond these hills..."
"A river."
Drakar studied the map.
"How deep?"
"Not enough to stop infantry."
Darian hesitated.
"But the eastern bank is difficult terrain."
"Why?"
"The ground becomes soft after rainfall."
Drakar's eyes narrowed.
"Heavy cavalry?"
"Slow."
"Very slow."
Drakar remained silent.
Elira leaned closer to the map.
"Then their eastern cavalry won't be able to move freely."
Drakar nodded.
"Correct."
Garran looked at him.
"You're thinking about dividing their army."
"Yes."
"But how?"
Drakar didn't answer.
Instead, he looked toward Darian.
"The forest."
Darian nodded.
"The western forest is large."
"How large?"
"Large enough to conceal several thousand soldiers."
Elira's eyes sharpened.
"Not thirty thousand."
"No."
"Then what?"
Drakar looked at the map.
"Three thousand."
Garran frowned.
"Three thousand?"
"Yes."
"What are they supposed to do?"
Drakar moved three thousand imaginary soldiers into the forest.
"They will make Leonhart believe we're attacking from the west."
Darian slowly understood.
"Drums."
Drakar nodded.
"Smoke."
Elira added.
"Fire arrows."
"Yes."
Garran's eyes narrowed.
"You're creating a false army."
"Exactly."
Lucien looked toward the map.
"Leonhart will have to respond."
"That's what I want."
Drakar moved several enemy markers toward the western forest.
"If they believe our main force is there..."
He moved another group.
"...they'll send troops to reinforce this side."
Darian nodded.
"And that reduces the pressure on the center."
Drakar looked at him.
"Not enough."
He moved another marker.
"We need them to move more."
Theron suddenly spoke.
"Then use the mages."
Everyone looked at him.
"The western force could make repeated attacks."
He pointed toward the forest.
"Not enough to commit."
"Just enough to make Leonhart believe they're fighting a larger force."
Drakar nodded.
"Good."
Elira looked thoughtful.
"And while they reinforce the forest..."
Drakar moved his finger toward the eastern side.
"Our cavalry moves here."
Lucien's eyes widened.
"The river."
"Yes."
"If we place the cavalry behind the hills..."
"They won't see us."
"And when their eastern forces are committed elsewhere..."
Drakar nodded.
"...we strike their flank."
Garran looked at the map.
"But what about the center?"
Drakar stared at it.
"The center retreats."
The commanders looked at him.
"Retreats?"
Drakar nodded.
"Slowly."
Maera frowned.
"That will make Leonhart think we're losing."
"That's the point."
Garran's eyes widened.
"They'll pursue."
"Yes."
"And they'll enter the narrow ground between the hills."
Drakar nodded.
Maera studied the terrain.
"Then we can establish the shield formation there."
Drakar looked at her.
"How many?"
"Five thousand."
"Enough?"
"Against a narrow front..."
She paused.
"...perhaps."
Drakar nodded.
"Then the center retreats until Leonhart enters."
Garran understood.
"And once their soldiers are inside..."
"The formation closes."
Maera's expression hardened.
"Then they can't use their numbers."
"Exactly."
For the first time, something resembling confidence appeared in the commanders' faces.
But Theron didn't smile.
"There is still the High Arcanist."
Drakar looked at him.
"Armand."
"Yes."
Theron pointed toward the center.
"If he casts a large-scale spell, our formation could be destroyed."
Drakar remained silent.
Theron continued.
"We cannot simply ignore him."
"Then don't."
"What do you mean?"
Drakar looked toward the western forest.
"We bait him."
Theron frowned.
"How?"
"Make the western force appear larger than it is."
Elira nodded slowly.
"If Armand believes our main offensive is there..."
"He may move forward to destroy it."
Theron understood.
"And we force him to waste his mana."
Drakar nodded.
"Exactly."
"Small attacks."
"Retreat."
"Another attack."
"Retreat again."
Theron's expression became thoughtful.
"Make him keep casting."
"Until his reserves begin to fall."
Then Drakar pointed toward the eastern hills.
"And when he's weakened..."
Theron looked at him.
"We strike."
Drakar nodded.
The tent fell silent.
Everyone stared at the map.
The plan was taking shape.
But it was far from perfect.
Darian finally spoke.
"There is still one problem."
Drakar looked toward him.
"Valerian."
Darian pointed toward the road.
"If he arrives before we finish..."
The commander slowly shook his head.
"Then this entire strategy changes."
Garran crossed his arms.
"And if the enemy realizes the western force is a deception?"
Elira added,
"Then our three thousand are trapped."
Lucien looked toward the eastern hills.
"And if their cavalry breaks through?"
Maera continued.
"If the center retreats too quickly, Leonhart may realize we're baiting them."
Theron adjusted his glasses.
"And if Armand refuses to pursue..."
Silence.
The commanders looked at one another.
Nobody spoke for several seconds.
Finally, Drakar placed both hands upon the table.
"We don't have a perfect plan."
His crimson eyes moved from one commander to another.
"We have a plan that might work."
Nobody interrupted.
"That's enough."
He looked down at the map.
"We cannot defeat seventy-six thousand soldiers by fighting them as seventy-six thousand."
His finger moved across the battlefield.
"So we won't."
He pointed toward the forest.
"Three thousand create the illusion."
Toward the center.
"Ten thousand retreat."
Toward the hills.
"Five thousand hold the trap."
Toward the eastern side.
"The cavalry waits."
Then finally...
Toward the enemy mage formation.
"And our mages isolate theirs."
Drakar straightened.
"If everything works..."
He paused.
"...we can win."
Garran stared at the map.
"And if it doesn't?"
Drakar's crimson eyes became cold.
"Then we improvise."
No one smiled.
No one celebrated.
They all understood the truth.
Thirty thousand soldiers were about to challenge seventy-six thousand.
Their strategy was clever.
But clever wasn't the same as certain.
Outside the tent, the wind grew stronger.
The canvas walls shook softly.
Whoooosh...
Drakar looked toward the entrance.
Beyond it lay thousands of sleeping soldiers who had no idea what the morning would bring.
His hand slowly tightened.
Seventy-six thousand.
Then another thought surfaced.
And somewhere inside their kingdom...
Falmeth is waiting.
His expression became unreadable.
"Prepare the army."
The commanders bowed.
"Yes, Sir Drakar."
One by one, they left the tent.
Drakar remained alone.
The map still lay before him.
He thinks
"I Hope this works"
Thirty thousand.
Seventy-six thousand.
A river.
A forest.
Two hills.
And a battlefield that would decide whether he earned the reward he truly wanted.
He reached toward the map.
His finger stopped over the enemy territory.
"Win..."
His crimson eyes narrowed.
"...and the royal treasury opens."
A faint smile appeared.
"Then I'll find you."
Falmeth.
The lantern flame flickered.
The night swallowed the command tent.
And somewhere beyond the darkness...
The army of Leonhart was waiting.