Valeria lay sideways on a leather-upholstered chair, ignoring the chaos spilling out before her. Her bare feet hung over the edge, and she wore a black, light dress — one of the few luxuries she possessed.
If she had learned anything over these past several weeks, it was that goblins knew nothing of etiquette — nor felt any need to learn it. As long as the black blade lay beside her, and Nocturne rested in its sheath by the makeshift throne, she towered above them.
"Barga is a great warrior! Barga will be a great general!"
A young goblin shouted at the crowd standing in the middle, and the rest responded with a mixture of loud applause, threats, and booing. Barga watched it all with agitation, grinding his teeth and challenging his opponents.
The Green Army had five generals, and after Borg's death, one position was missing. Valeria had brought up the topic, but they could not reach any agreement. Suddenly, everyone was a great warrior and the hope of Valar…
"For now, Barga is just a great glutton. Even now he's eating!" San'Xa'Hu shouted when he saw him chewing again. The crowd burst into laughter — including Valeria, who almost dropped her cup of wine.
Jo'Xa'Jaru, along with several lizardmen, headed toward the Endless Swamp on a mission, but with San'Xa'Hu present, the swamp creatures still had a strong presence at the assembly.
"Let Barga first prove his famous strength and cunning. He will soon have his chance to do so!"
Valeria sprang upright. The cold ground touched her bare feet, her eyes ignited with ambition, and the greens fell silent. She smiled, holding the black sword in her hand. The crown adorned her head, and her dress flowed in the wind — she looked like a deity.
"Gather your greens, sharpen your swords and axes. Tomorrow we march into the lands of the orcs. Whoever brings back the most heads of gray warriors will become the fifth general!"
The crowd erupted into a frenzied roar, and all three candidates raised their heads in pride, directing their orders toward their subordinates. Isai, grandson of Isma, was one of the three candidates — at only sixteen springs he had commanded troops in the battle at the statue of the God of the Sword. Barga, famous for his reckless raids in the western forest and dozens of stories about him, was granted the honor of taking part in the selection. The last was Kasho, who had come from afar — cousin of Koshia and the new leader of the Red Serpents.
Valeria had laid the foundations for the rise of a true kingdom:
With Argos as the great treasurer and head of all resources and wealth, Artax as the great advisor and voice of Zod, and also a secondary advisor Jo'Xa'Hu, whose experience in battles and wars far exceeded everyone else — she felt they would survive the turmoil of fate and endure the coming hardships.
Valeria knew they could not permanently settle in White Stone City, but for now Doirak managed everything well and maintained order, and the threat from the orcs was still too great to undertake the heavy burden of building a new capital…
"Barga! Isai! Kasho! Step forward!"
The three approached. The Brown Bears tribe, Yellow Grass tribe, and Red Serpents tribe — all three powerful and eager for a glorious title. The Vampire Queen anointed them with oils blessed by shamans, blessed them, and pointed them toward their targets for tomorrow. Four major groups — three led separately by them — would strike three gray settlements individually. Valeria, with elite forces, would go deeper into gray territory and ensure no reinforcements arrived. Vay, Artax, and Doirak would accompany her.
Those chosen were ordered to bring more troops, while the rest would be supplied from the green forces. Each of the three groups would have 500 warriors, Valeria 1000. With such a large force, the world would hear that Valar was no child to be trampled.
"May the God of the Darkness blind your enemies…" she whispered under her breath.
She could not see her half-brother or her friend anywhere. Howling Storm had also left the assembly earlier and was patrolling the forward lines. The attack tomorrow had to succeed, otherwise her authority would be compromised. If the history books — which she rarely opened — had taught her anything, it was that a king who loses wars does not remain in power for long…
The night grew late, and the armies required preparation. All three candidates had already begun their first actions, and the chaos that erupted was unimaginable. Arguments, disputes, and fights over better weapons from the armory. In the end, the presence of Doirak and Mago prevented bloodshed. Typical green organization…
Valeria finally returned to her room. She sat on the table. Her armor — worn by many battles, without a skilled craftsman to repair it — hung on the wall, waiting to be worn. Armored skirt, high boots… Everything she had, she took when fleeing the Misty Isles, working briefly as an adventurer, losing more than she gained — without experience, burdened by trauma and unaccustomed to hardship, it was not easy…
Lying down and thinking about what had been and what was to come, the sound of knocking echoed through the room. Valeria immediately hardened her expression — putting on her royal mask. Her sword lay nearby. Who could come so late? Hm… her aura revealed it was Vay — it was too dense and too imposing for it to be Artax. A shame… she would have gladly scolded him for abandoning those boastful chieftains.
"Can I come in, little sister?"
"You can't."
"Thank you. I'm coming in!"
The door opened, and a pillow flew at Vay, who took the hit to the face. It fell to the floor, and he laughed, showing his healthy fangs.
"Why are you here? Didn't you have time for the assembly, and now you do, hm? What are you doing? What are you up to!?"
She asked, slightly stressed, arms crossed as he approached in an unusual way — unlike himself. He might have been playful and joking, but he was not someone who showed affection, let alone hugged others.
"I came to kill you," he said quietly, without a trace of emotion.
Valeria jumped back, ready to kick him, completely shaken — when he simply stuck out his tongue like a child, grabbed her leg, and lay down on the bed.
The vampire girl stood up abruptly, gritting her teeth in anger.
"What are you talking about? Hm! Stop with these jokes!"
"Who said it was a joke? Hm? Maybe I came to do something much worse? Do you think I wouldn't be capable of it?"
"I think you wouldn't! I know you. When everyone treated me with distance, like an object after my mother's death, you were the only one who treated me normally… Some even blamed me for her death…"
"Fools. That's absurd," he commented bluntly. "Besides, vampires change. When I left the Misty Isles thirty years ago, I saw and experienced many things. Things you can't even imagine — stories no less insane than those told by our old nanny…"
They stood close in silence for a moment, thinking about the past. Valeria grew briefly sad, then asked with reproach:
"Why did you leave the Misty Isles? You know how hard it was. Do you remember when father was ill? You had to leave me like that? You're just like… you know who."
"No, even I'm not that insane!"
"You're not far off."
Valeria hit him on the shoulder like an offended girl. He stood up straight, chewed on his words for a moment, then revealed the truth.
"I came to take Nocturne."
Valeria fell onto the bed, completely surprised. She knew that as the heir and successor to the throne, she was the only one meant to wield that blade. After the trial when the world saw Nocturne rejecting her, when she was deemed unworthy, her uncle had begun acting more aggressively. Vay, as a bastard, had neither a name nor a chance to grasp that legendary sword — bestowed upon the vampire nation by the God of Darkness.
"Don't be afraid. That was my intention when I came here. I feared you were too weak to wield it, and that that cursed usurper might try to steal it. Now I know you are stronger than ever… Va… You did the impossible. Father would be proud of you."
A tear rolled down her cheek. She had never had such an honest conversation with her brother.
"You created such an interesting and lively place from nothing. Even Gomas treats you as an equal… The usurper won't take your sword either, because if it rejected him as well, he would be humiliated. His power might collapse."
"You know I'm a mistake. You should have been the firstborn of the queen. You are the talented and strong one. If I had such power, I would give you my name. With you, the Misty Isles would be a great nation, and the uncle would never have seized power."
"A mistake?" he repeated. "You?"
He stepped closer and tapped her forehead.
"Never say that about yourself. What we think sometimes becomes reality. You are Varyn's daughter, just like me. We have the same blood. One day you will surpass my swordsmanship, and with your determination, it won't take long. Hm!"
"Don't even joke like that…" she fell silent for a moment. "Will you stay here with me? Will you help me?"
Vay looked into her eyes, leaned against the doorframe, and sighed, knowing she might not like what he was about to say.
"I can't. Not yet. There are still battles to fight, places to see, beings to meet… The Western Continent awaits. Maybe I'll gather a few fools like myself along the way, gain fame, and return with the strength to help you reclaim the Misty Isles, dear little sister…"
Valeria knew Vay was as stubborn as a mule. She knew she couldn't convince him. But his words gave her strength. She had long awaited such a conversation…
"You tried to steal my sword, brother. You didn't do it, but intent also matters, doesn't it?" Vay rolled his eyes and laughed. "You owe me! The raid on the gray lands is tomorrow, and you better be ready, brother."
Moonlight poured through the window, and with it came strength. Vay's confession, once so heavy on his heart, turned out to be a feather — a feather that tipped the scales. Varyn, if he could see them now, would be proud of them both — Valeria was certain of that.