CHAPTER 65

  THE WAR REPORT

  Chris and Hans stood together at the edge of the wall, gazing eastward. The elven lands stretched before them, serene and vibrant with overflowing mana. Chris breathed in the tranquility and then voiced his thoughts. “Hans, do you ever wonder how this war will end? Even if one side wins, they’ll have depleted their own strength and killed their brothers. Do you think it’s okay to fight this senseless war?”

  Hans sighed, his gaze unwavering. “Chris, I know you have a good heart, but you can’t ignore the lure of power. The royals, led by Queen Reina, fight to preserve their lineage and traditional rule. On the other side, the Council, a coalition of powerful houses and magic users, seeks to establish a new order. There’s no wrong side here. The only bloodless option I see is the division of the nation, but the elves will never agree to that.”

  “You’re right about that,” Chris replied, matching Hans’s gaze. “Given time, Clandor under a single rule would become formidable. Neither side will agree to let that kind of power slip away.” He sighed again, watching the horizon where a beautiful sunrise was painting the sky in vibrant hues.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

  “Indeed it is,” Hans nodded, inhaling the cold, moist air.

  “But Hans, just out of curiosity, do you know how to rid the world of wars?”

  “As long as greed exists, war will happen, but if you really want a solution, there’s an easy answer for that, but it’s impossible to execute,” Hans replied. “The world must serve one monarch.”

  “Do you want to achieve that impossible goal?” Chris asked, curious.

  “No,” Hans shook his head. “That’s too grand an ambition for me. I just want to live my life on my terms and die of old age, preferably in my bed without diapers.”

  Chris laughed. “Pft, let’s hope that last part comes true.”

  “What about you, Chris? What kind of life do you want?” Hans asked, genuinely curious. Despite their years of friendship, they had never discussed their dreams and ambitions.

  “Me?” Chris pointed to himself, a contemplative look crossing his face. “At first, I just wanted Parv to stop threatening my father. They’ve stopped making our lives miserable, which is what I wanted for my family. But there’s still one thing I want to achieve. I can’t tell you because I believe I’ll lose the opportunity if I share it. But trust me, it’s not harmful to you.”

  “It’s okay, Chris—”

  “No,” Chris insisted. “You need to know I’m not hiding it because I want to. It’s just…”

  “Chris, I trust you,” Hans reassured him, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Whatever it is, I trust you—But man, why are you so sentimental today?” Hans frowned. “You’ll die if you suddenly act differently. That’s a death flag right there.”

  They both chuckled, their laughter mingling with the crisp morning air. Their bonding moment, however, was cut short by Homar’s sudden interruption. “Here you are… Prince Hans.” Homar addressed him formally, acknowledging the presence of a third party.

  “You can call me comfortably, Commander Homar. Don’t force yourself,” Hans suggested. Turning back to the sunrise, he began to photonise, his body lighting up as he refreshed himself. In his glowing state, he asked Homar, “So, the Council also slept through the night? I thought they’d sneak in or at least send some assassins.” He mocked lightly, but before he could continue, Homar pointed to a few corpses, all knights of grade above seventy.

  “Who says there weren’t any assassins? Your tent was the most dangerous place. They only targeted you while you slept drunk,” Homar showed a disappointed face. “I’ll overlook your negligence—”

  “It wasn’t my negligence, Commander Homar,” Hans respectfully interjected, pointing out, “It was the trust I had in you to keep me safe, and you proved me right.”

  “Flattery won’t get you anywhere,” Homar remarked.

  “I know, but I live around someone who always has to have the last word. Maybe it’s rubbed off on me.”

  “So, you’ll get to have the last word?” Homar questioned, irritated.

  “Indeed.”

  “I’d stop here then.” Homar respectfully retreated.

  “Then what’s the agenda for today?” Hans asked.

  “If you’re curious, you’d better follow me to the meeting, Mister Hans.” Homar went toward the war meeting, and Hans trailed behind him. Leaving Chris alone in the wall, but he wasn’t really alone. “Just what is wrong with you nowadays? Why are you behaving like you normally won’t?”

  “You should ask that yourself, Deli—”

  “I know what I’m going through, Chris. It’s an illness of mind that every girl growing up suffers.” Her eyes trailed the departing Hans. It will go away with due time, it has to go away. But you should snap out of this… or whatever, it is…”

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  WAR MEETING, GALENHALL

  Hans and Homar settled into the war meeting, Hans feeling a mix of curiosity and tension as he entered Galenhall’s strategic room for the first time. The room was something else, adorned with complex maps and tactical displays that provided a comprehensive view of the entire vicinity. Advanced spells illuminated the room, offering real-time insights into the Southern and Northern fronts. It was a level of sophistication he had never seen before.

  “Commander Homar, do we have anything like this?” Hans asked, his eyes wide with fascination.

  “No, Clandor has its strengths, and so do we. These are the active spells of warlocks. We only have a handful of them back home.”

  They took their seats, positioned just to the left of the center where Reina now sat. Being this close to her was an awkward experience for Hans; just a month or two ago, this woman had tried to kill him. The bitterness between them was mutual.

  But the awkwardness evaporated as Reina received the latest war report. She addressed everyone with a commanding presence, “Esteemed allies, the latest war report has just come in, and I will share the details with you now.”

  She began with the North. “The Highborn family has suffered significant damage but has achieved a crucial victory by capturing the city of Willow Bane. However, they have requested additional support to hold and fortify their position.” She paused, then added, “What do you suggest? I’m open to everyone’s opinions, even the children’s.” She pointed at Hans, but he remained calm, choosing to stay silent unless the safety of the Golden Griffins were at stake.

  “What do you suggest we do, Queen Reina?” Bernard interjected, breaking the tension that was beginning to build between Hans and her.

  “To bolster our northern front,” Reina replied, “you should return, Warlord Bernard, and take the Utar forces to aid the Highborn family. Your presence will not only strengthen our hold on Willow Bane but also provide the much-needed support to maintain this strategic advantage.”

  “I’ll do it, but please remember what we discussed that day. Look at the bigger picture. I’m not asking you as your knight, but telling you as your well-wisher.”

  “I’m not that conceited, Sir Bernard. Go without any concern,” Reina said.

  Bernard stood up with the Duke of Utar, their warlord. Both bid their farewells, while the rest wished them success.

  “For the south,” Reina continued as soon as Bernard left the war meeting, “our forces have successfully chipped away at the Council's strength, but we lack the powerful driving force necessary to occupy any territory definitively.”

  She looked at her allies, and after careful deliberation and discussion, they decided to send the Grimgar forces along with two warships to the southern front. “This reinforcement would provide the necessary power to shift the balance and begin reclaiming territory from the Council.” She explained.

  Hans remained silent, listening intently. Though, because of the power of ‘Inheritance’, he felt like he belonged to this table, but he recognised the value of learning from those with more practical experience. Without prejudice or personal ambition, he just listened and took it all in.

  “Eastern Front— ahem!” Reina cleared her throat, “After dispatching aid to the North and South, we are left with Galenhall’s army, Sunfall, Parv, and Clandor royal forces, along with one warship from our allies and three from our own fleet.”

  “But the Council is not going to give us breathing room. We are on the brink of a siege battle. The Council is advancing with a formidable force from the city of Bulwark, ruled by a Thalorian magic tower, and they are sending 20,000 soldiers and several elite units. We only have the army half of their size.” She reasoned.

  “These mages from the Thalorian magic tower,” Hans spoke for the first time, confirming,“Aren’t they specialised in barrier magic as well as dark elements?”

  “Yes,” she nodded.

  Hans nodded back and, like an advanced war tactician, he began to speak. “If I were them, I’d opt for a siege. Dark magic has an obscene amount of range, but it’s wide and hard to control. I’d advise you to avoid the siege and confront them in an open field with the walls of Galenhall at our backs. If their army is mixed with ours, they wouldn’t dare to unleash those powerful spells—”

  “Just like what you did in Galenhall,” Reina finished his thought.

  “Exactly.”

  “You sure you are a twelve-year-old—”

  “It’s in the blood, get used to it,” Hans said, nonchalant.

  Reina didn’t respond to Hans’s prideful remark. “Let’s consider it.” She said, “Whether it’s a siege or an open battle, we will have plenty of time to prepare. We’ve deployed anti-transfer magic, so no one can use transfer magic or SpaceDoors, not even us. With a force of twenty thousand, it would take them at least a week to reach here, even at full speed.”

  Reina's response surprised Hans; instead of outright rejecting his suggestion, she seemed willing to consider it sincerely. As the war meeting concluded, Hans was asked to stay behind.

  “So, Prince Hans,” she began, collecting and organising her documents in a methodical manner that clearly helped her maintain composure. “I assume you have no control over that dark thing or whatever…, so I can’t expect any eerie assistance from you, right?”

  “Yes,” Hans affirmed.

  “You should at least try to conceal your weakness.”

  “Is that concern for me? I’m touched. But when a man stops evolving, he dies. I’ll always have something better for the next time. So don’t worry about me, Queen Reina,” Hans remarked, hinting at their unfinished business in the Deadlands.

  Unfazed by his provocation, Reina’s tone turned serious. “I want to send your knights on a reconnaissance mission. Do you agree?”

  “Details first,” Hans gestured, showing his willingness to listen.

  “Since we’ve occupied Galenhall, our next target is the Thalorian stronghold: the city of Bulwark. It’s been impenetrable since the dawn of the Elves. Thanks to your earlier GIFTS, they’ve now armed themselves with an unknown number of artillery pieces. I want the Parvians to find out what’s happening there. Far sight projection is blocked, so we can’t observe anything directly.”

  “These Thalorians again. So they aren’t sending their main force here?” Hans inquired.

  “Yes, as you’ve noted, they specialize in turtle tactics. You know what that means, right?”

  “Yeah, they dig in and let their enemy exhaust themselves before striking back. I know the strategy, please don’t test me,” Hans replied, contemplating. “Facing the Dark Magic Tower of the Elves would be quite the achievement. But I don’t think I’ll have that honor.” Turning to Homar, he asked, “Commander of the Golden Griffins, is it doable?”

  Homar nodded affirmatively, so Hans continued, “How many days do you need?”

  “A week should suffice. It will take three days to reach Bulwark, one day for scouting, perhaps stretching to two at most. Even with variables, we’ll definitely return faster since we’ll know the way back.”

  “Okay,” Hans turned to Queen Reina and declared, “The Parvians will handle this reconnaissance mission.”