CHAPTER 69

  XANDOR OUT OF THE HOLE

  A day before the attack on Galenhall, the council members discovered that Varys Thalorian, the lord of the dark magic tower, had gone rogue. His entire army had vanished, disappearing into thin air just a few kilometres from Galenhall. The news hit the council like a thunderclap.

  “That darn Thalorian,” cursed Dandor, the council's tactician, frustration etched on his face like his aged wrinkles.

  “I told you before, Thalorians couldn’t be trusted,” remarked Lady Penning with a tone of vindication, her disdain for Thalorians clear.

  Dandor ignored her, knowing well how much she despised them. He had no time for grudges; the situation demanded swift action. He quickly expedited orders to attack the southern and northern frontiers simultaneously, setting the stage for the current crisis in Clandorian’s situation room.

  Reina skimmed through the reports, her face growing grimmer with each passing page. The north was on the verge of destruction. They were forced to evacuate their newly occupied city because of relentless bombardment from four enemy towers.

  The northern frontiers had to flee, but their escape didn't come without cost; House Highborn had to sacrifice one of their towers, which was utterly destroyed by the combined fury of the four enemy towers.

  The situation in the south was even more dire. Assassin mages ran amok, indiscriminately attacking citizens. The entire southern frontier was awash in blood, a scene reminiscent of a butcher’s shop.

  Reina relayed this grim news in the situation room, where her allies were providing their valuable insights. “Prince Hans,” she addressed him, her tone filled with irritation, “Have you still failed to make contact with Commander Homar?”

  “What do you mean, 'failed'?” Hans thought, bristling at the implication. Before he could respond, Reina interrupted, “With the dark magic tower and remaining forces, we can hold even if the council summons their towers here. So I ask you to take Sierra and Rudolf with you to aid the southern frontier. The citizens are barely hanging on; they need someone to heal them.”

  Hans couldn't refute her—it was a sound strategy. Yet, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was acting on someone else's script. And he wasn't the only one. The wise men in the room shared his unease.

  The atmosphere was tense, everyone feeling that things were getting worse quickly. Reina kept giving orders, and Hans looked at Sierra and Rudolf. They nodded, showing they understood the seriousness of what they had to do next.

  “Fine! I’ll see to it.” Hans stood up and went back to their camp while Rudolf and Sierra trailed behind.

  As people dispersed to their assigned designations, it became clear that the central frontier would face a gap in strength. To fill this void, another wave of reinforcements arrived, including retired members from the previous queen’s reign and the former queen herself.

  “I saw what happened today,” spoke the former queen, Reina’s mother. “The commoners started to believe in that bastard rather than in us, their protectors.”

  “He healed them and buried their enemies. How do you expect them to behave?” Reina questioned her mother, her tone carrying a hint of ‘I told you so.’ “You were the one who opposed my strategy of using the elite force first.” She silently complained.

  “I agree, it was a mistake on my part. But that boy you spared, Reina, is quite the snake. He’s just like his father, though he lacks his ambitions. But, for how long?” The former queen paused, reflecting on Winter’s daughter’s words. “That child has a unique air about him, a presence that makes you feel invincible as long as you’re on his side. I agree with the half-blood’s words and I’m not saying it because he is the spawn of Parv. NO, it’s his innate ability, something even his abhorrent father didn’t possess.”

  Elves were sensitive to these kinds of things, Clandor Royals especially.

  “It’s natural for children to surpass their parents. We call it evolution, Mother.” Reina responded, “And you’re right about him, but we can’t kill him yet. Not until I can verify Bernard’s words, or we risk awakening the end of our kind.”

  When her mother looked at her, the eyes filled with desire for clarification. Reina gently slid a parchment, an old tome, towards her mother. “Before this escalated, I was researching this.” She pointed to the text, written in archaic high elven. Though difficult even for the former queen to understand, she knew its significance.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  "Those cursed Amarathiel!" The former queen's frustration echoed through the situation room. Her eyes darted across the archaic text. “The prophecy?” she inquired, turning to Queen Reina.

  “Yes,” Reina affirmed with a solemn nod, “the rest of this is from the old scrolls of House Amarathiel—

  “What does it foretell?” The former queen's urgency cut through Reina's explanation.

  “One shall rise to make one fall,

  The light must dim for darkness to call.”

  “ I have no time for riddles. What does it mean, Reina?” The former queen's fear of prophecies was quite known to the royals. Calling it paranoia was the fitting term.

  “I don't believe the child is the Parvian sun, the harbinger of disaster as mentioned in the archaic verses. Rather, his end might herald the beginning of our downfall. Perhaps his demise is the catalyst for the Parvian sun's awakening.” She explained.

  “Ugh! These cryptic riddles! Why couldn't those Amarathiel ancestors write plainly in Elvish? Why these convoluted puzzles?” The former queen's irritation was evident, but then she paused, her eyes scanning further down the text.

  “What about our demigod? Aredhel found those scriptures, isn’t it? He is the destined one to confront this threat, right?” Her voice didn’t show hope but unwavering confidence as if it will happen no matter what. She iterated the demigod prophecy herself.

  “With the might of light, one would rise, neither a god nor of foes.

  Shove the Parvian sun to dusk, rest its wrath within his husk.”

  Reina repeated the words, adding, “It doesn't speak of killing, but of containing. You, or our family, has distorted the truth.”

  “Forget it, Reina. Our faith in the gods will not falter in our darkest hours.” The former queen declared with unwavering conviction, leaving Reina to ponder the depths of that belief.

  Meanwhile, in the comfort of their tent, Rudolf pondered for a moment before speaking up, “The five of us should be enough. It's just a mission to escort Hans and Sierra there so they can work their magic,” he affirmed.

  Just then, the communication orb that Hans held lit up with a blink. “I have both bad news and worse news.” Homar's voice came through from the other side. “What do you want to hear first, Prince Hans?”

  “Is the bad news that Thalorians aren’t there?” Hans inquired, already anticipating the answer.

  Homar nodded, “Yes, that's correct.”

  “And the worse news?”

  “Hmm… Xandor is out of his rat hole. He is the one occupying Thalorian’s land—

  Hans abruptly stood up. He asked Homar in fervour, “Can you see their forces or hear any activity?”

  Homar replied, “No, we’re still a day away from reaching them. We need to proceed with caution. Xandor is known to be very careful.”

  “I need to get to the south, but I’ll try to settle things there quickly. Let Xandor know I’ll have his head on a pike real soon.”

  Blip! Blip!

  Before Sierra could scold Hans for his uncouth behaviour, he made another call, relaying Homar’s findings to the situation room.

  “Grandpa, let's not waste any time,” he urged Rudolf and his friends. Sierra was forced to swallow her words, but she still had something to say.

  “Child, I’m still opposed to taking you there. We don’t know what we’re getting into, so be on your best behaviour,” she warned. “Xandor… we’ll talk about him later, understood?”

  Patting his waist belt lightly, Hans nodded. He needed to be calm, not irrational like a child he was. Since Xandor was the later foe to face, the situation in the south warranted his utmost caution.

  “Listen, kids,” Rudolf began, “we aren’t going to get involved in the fight in the south. We are only there to heal the injured, so no one is to play the hero.” He stared at Hans and added, “And for sure, no one is to show off, understood, Prince of Parv?”

  Hans had no choice but to nod again. They departed on foot, running at full speed. He was flying just above the ground level when he suddenly asked Delimira, “Hey! Can’t you just turn into that flying serpent and take us there?”

  “I’m not a ride,” she quickly denied.

  “Sure, sure, keep telling yourself that,” Hans replied, glancing at her grandma who was matching Rudolf’s pace. “Man, I didn’t know Grandma was this fast—”

  “Idiot, look at her feet,” Delimira pointed out. “She’s barely touching the ground. You can’t underestimate a divine mana user, Hans.”

  Chris, on the other hand, was imitating Rudolf’s breathing, his technique, and even the amount of aura Rudolf was using with deadly precision. If it weren’t for the wind gem he wore, there was no way he would have kept up with their pace. “Wow, so I’m the weakest here,” he thought to himself.

  Delimira frowned at his words, “Hans—”

  “Yeah! Yeah! Don’t be a bitch, right?” He sighed, feeling the familiar urge to be better than everyone else. No matter what he did, he couldn't shake this competitive habit.

  The southern frontier was three days away, and the reinforcements Reina had sent there before the Battle of Galenhall hadn't reached them yet. If it had been another army, Rudolf and his group would have taken the same amount of time, but they were a small group.

  Conventionally, they should’ve reached the southern frontier in a day and a half, but it was already the end of the second day, and they were still wondering what was happening.

  They didn't sense any mischief in the mana or any artefact acting up. Neither did things repeat themselves, indicating they were running in circles. “Gramps, I know I’m directionally challenged, but isn’t this overdoing a bit?”

  “I know, but I can’t figure out who has things up their assess to play this nonsense thing. Come on, bastard, show yourself.” Rudolf flaunted his sword around, but no one answered.

  After another day spent in vain, they finally stumbled upon the trail of the reinforcements heading south. “Damn it,” Rudolf grumbled as they hastened to join the reinforcements. “We were lost who knows where, and now we’re late enough to catch up with an army dispatched two days before us.”