Ministry erupted into chaos. Soldiers sprinted and scrambled through the barracks, instructors shouted at the top of their lungs, and weapons and armor were distributed in a frenzy. Bows and arrows were packed and delivered to the front lines with desperate speed.
From atop the city walls, Sor Sogon and Rak Mhan stood behind the battlements alongside dozens of ministers. They stared at the vast horizon of the open lands, their brows furrowed and their expressions grim.
Sor Sogon felt his hands tremble with anxiety; sweat poured from his forehead like a flood, and his face was nearly drained of color.
"Vice Minister Rak Mhan," Sor Sogon said, his voice low and shaky, "will we be able to successfully defend this city?"
Rak Mhan didn't answer immediately. He let the question hang in the air, releasing a heavy sigh that carried a distinct trace of unease.
"That depends. The Western Kingdom does not attack cities blindly. If we are lucky, they may leave us untouched."
That sentence brought a fleeting sense of ease to the ministers, yet the specter of death lingered in their minds, a shadow that words could not easily erase. Just as the ministers slipped deeper into their anxiety, the thundering sound of boots echoed from behind.
A scout strode forward at a hurried pace, his face masked by a thick mixture of mud and sweat. He dropped to one knee before the officials. "Report! The Western Army is nearly here. They should arrive in less than an hour."
As Sor Sogon listened, fear crept up his spine like a cold snake, leaving him speechless.
"Good. Tell the commanders to double their pace and position themselves along the walls," Rak Mhan stepped in, his voice loud and firm, betraying no hint of fear.
"As you command!" The scout dashed off, his iron boots clattering against the stone before it completely disappeared into the distance.
Soon, the city walls exploded into disciplined chaos.
Waves of soldiers poured from the military barracks in an endless waves and quickly positioned themselves behind the battlements. Archers formed the first line, while hundreds of spearmen and swordsmen stood resolute behind them, creating a formation that no army could easily shatter.
As the soldiers finished their deployment, the ministers began to retreat toward the keep's tower to watch the battle from safety.
However, Rak Mhan refused to join them. He stayed behind the battlements, positioning himself among the troops to personally oversee the defense and maintain morale.
---
Half an hour flew by in an instant. Sor Sogon stared at the endless horizon with a hollow, calm expression, as if waiting for death itself.
Just as a glimmer of hope began to return to his chest, his eyes suddenly widened in terror as large banners began to pour from a distant mountain in massive waves.
The guards immediately scrambled to the side, picked up the large hammers that were prepared in advnace, and struck the surface of the massive bells hanging from the keep's tower.
Gong.
Gong.
Gong.
As the sound rolled across the walls, the soldiers—who had been resting moments before—immediately sprang back to their feet. They crowded the battlements, staring at the horizon.
And before everyone's eyes was an endless tide of heads and a forest of spears and banners that covered the land.
The Western Army approached at a measured, lazy pace; their movements were crisp and precise, their presence utterly intimidating.
The defenders swallowed hard, their throats tight with shock, but they straightened their backs as instructors began barking orders to hold the line.
The Western Army continued its march before pulling to a halt exactly one kilometer away from the walls—just outside the effective range of the archers, rendering them useless.
Rak Mhan stepped forward, his silhouette visible from the field. Seeing the formation on the walls, General Ahn Dey let out a soft chuckle, amusement dancing in his eyes. He stepped forward and shouted at the top of his lungs, his voice echoing across the open fields.
"I am the Grand Marshal of the Western Kingdom! My name is General Ahn Dey!"
After a brief pause, Rak Mhan cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted back.
"I am Rak Mhan, Vice Minister of the Military Ministry in this city. State your purpose!"
Ahn Dey's smile widened. "Rak Mhan! I have heard you were once the Grand Marshal of the Western Kingdom yourself. I deeply respect your reputation."
Rak Mhan did not deign to reply.
He cared nothing for flattery, and the memory of his past service to that kingdom stirred a dormant anger in his chest—a feeling he had kept buried for years.
Receiving no response, Ahn Dey let out a soft sigh, quickly discarding the idea of pleasantries and went straight to the point.
"I have come to discuss military and state affairs with your leader!" he shouted, wiping sweat from his face with his sleeve.
Rak Mhan recoiled slightly in surprise. It wasn't that he was unwilling to cooperate, it was because their leader was practically absent, he knew he could not assume the role of Lord Zudra, so his mind practically raced through countless thoughts, as if trying to figure out a solution.
Yet, at that critical moment, a massive figure suddenly appeared from behind, its metal boots echoed across the stone floor, the ground seem to groan of its heavy weight.
It was Roy, clad in his seven-foot-tall, black templar armor, his silhouette towered above even the tallest soldier, the metal surface of his armor glindted slightly as it absorb sunlight.
He tapped Rak Mhan's shoulder, the metal plates meeting with a heavy clang.
"Rest assured. I will handle this," Roy said casually, before beginning his descent toward the city gates.
---
Soon, Ahn Dey and Roy met face-to-face on the open field. Their expressions were worlds apart, creating an unsettling tension.
They sat together on a tent just between the two armies, hastily prepared by the people of Zudrath City, and on the center was a wooden table and a special, wooden-crafted chair.
Before the General could utter a single word of his planned speech, Roy spoke first in a cold, piercing tone.
"I want you to hand over General Bho Thong."