Chapter 160: Unfinished Business
Thora lowered her broadsword, wiping sweat from her brow. "We are just warming up, Kane."
"Warm up later," Kane instructed, gesturing for Sira to join them in the center.
"Firlia is getting new armor forged for the front line. I need you all measured. We are not fighting elves in standard leather and iron."
Sira hopped down from the fence, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "New gear? Does it come with hidden pockets for extra daggers?"
"Perhaps," Kane chuckled, tossing the apple toward her. "If you stop betting against your own team."
"Never," Sira grinned, catching the fruit easily. "It pays too well."
A week vanished into the rhythm of preparation. Menual practically hummed with new life, its fragile wooden palisades replaced by towering stone walls.
Guards patrolled the newly paved courtyards wearing sleek, mana-forged armor, looking every bit like true imperial soldiers rather than a ragtag mercenary company.
Standing around a wide wooden table, Kane rested his hands on a detailed map of the Elven territory.
"Logistics will be a nightmare," Firlia stated, tapping a long finger along the winding mountain passes.
"They will burn our supply lines before we even reach the outer gates. Fire magic is their specialty, and they love using it on moving targets. We lose the food, we lose the war."
"Then we adapt," Kane replied smoothly, tracing a safe path away from the dense forests.
"Have the carpenters build specialized transport wagons lined with frost scales from our latest hunt. I want them to be practically immune to standard fire spells. Let them waste their mana on enchanted wood."
"That is brilliant," Misha chimed in, smiling proudly from her seat.
"It will completely neutralize their primary defense strategy."
"It will take time to construct enough for the entire army," Firlia noted, scribbling the order onto her parchment.
"Our craftsmen are already working overtime to finish the new swords you requested yesterday."
"Pay them triple," Kane said without hesitation. "Gold is meant to be spent, not hoarded in a vault. Take all the time you need. We do not rush into this."
"Most warlords prefer striking while morale is high," Firlia warned, looking up from her notes.
"Most warlords end up dead in a ditch," Kane countered, meeting the gazes of his assembled council.
"We build our siege engines right here, in secret. Tell Thora to train the infantry to fight blindfolded starting tomorrow."
"Blindfolded?" Misha asked from across the table, arching a delicate brow. "Are you trying to get your own men killed during practice?"
"To counter their illusions," Kane explained, flashing his wife a reassuring smile.
"If our soldiers trust their eyes against elves, they are already dead. We need them to rely on sound and instinct. When we finally march, we march as an empire, not a mercenary band. We will be completely ready."
’Let them sit behind their glass walls and wait,’ Kane thought, rolling up the map. ’Anticipation ruins morale faster than starvation. By the time we arrive, they will be terrified of their own shadows.’
"I will handle the training schedule," Firlia promised, gathering her notes.
"Thora will likely enjoy yelling at blindfolded recruits anyway."
"She definitely will," Kane chuckled, waving a hand to dismiss the meeting.
"Get some rest, everyone. We have a lot of work to do tomorrow."
Midnight arrived quietly. The council dispersed to their respective quarters, leaving the central keep enveloped in a comfortable silence.
Misha lingered for a moment, pressing a soft kiss to Kane’s cheek before retiring to their bedchambers, leaving him entirely alone in his study.
Spreading a fresh set of siege blueprints across his desk, Kane picked up a charcoal pencil to make a few adjustments to the ballista designs.
’System,’ Kane called out internally, pulling up a secondary interface screen.
’Calculate the required tension strength for launching iron-tipped bolts over fifty yards.’
Numbers flashed across his vision, providing the exact material requirements needed to breach the Elven walls.
Kane copied the data onto his blueprints, satisfied with the tactical advantage the interface provided.
’We are going to crush them,’ Kane mused, tracing the outline of the city gates. ’Sylvander will fall within three days once we deploy these ballistas.’
Flickering candle flames suddenly shifted, burning an icy blue.
The temperature plummeted in a matter of seconds, shifting the air pressure inside the quiet room.
’Right on time,’ Kane smirked, not even bothering to look up from his parchment.
’She always loves a dramatic entrance. I bet she practiced it just to show off.’
Seraphine stepped flawlessly out of thin air, her boots making zero sound on the woven rugs.
A faint trail of blue energy dissipated around her shoulders as she fully materialized inside his study.
Tossing a glowing, engraved runestone directly onto his blueprints, she offered a satisfied smile.
"Bypass codes for the Sylvander border," Seraphina announced, her silver hair catching the dim light of the blue candles.
"Your target is entirely exposed, whenever you finally decide to move."
Kane caught the runestone, inspecting the intricate carvings for a brief second before reaching into his desk drawer.
"Was there any trouble acquiring this?" Kane asked, genuinely curious about her methods.
"None that I couldn’t handle," Seraphine replied, crossing her arms.
"Elven guards are far too arrogant for their own good. They rely so much on the magical barriers that they forget to watch their own pockets."
Pulling out a bulging pouch of gold coins, Kane tossed it toward her.
"Payment, as promised," Kane stated casually.
"Good work, First Blade. You delivered exactly what I needed, right on schedule."
Seraphine snatched the gold mid-air. Instead of tucking it away, she simply dropped the pouch onto his desk with a dismissive thud.
Taking a slow, deliberate step around the wooden table, she kept her eyes locked entirely on him.
Her usual detached assassin persona seemed to vanish, replaced by something much more dangerous.
"That settles the contract," Seraphine whispered, her voice dropping into an intimate tone.
"But I seem to recall you mentioning something about unfinished business during our last meeting."
Leaning back in his chair, Kane allowed a predatory smile to cross his scarred face.
"I did say you were welcome anytime. My door is always open for you, Seraphine."
"Just your door?" she teased, taking another step closer until she stood right beside his chair.
"Because I walked right past three layers of your elite security without anyone noticing. I could have assassinated you five times over."
"You are welcome to try," Kane laughed softly, entirely unbothered by the threat.
"But we both know you prefer keeping me alive. Who else would pay you this well?"
"True," Seraphine conceded, a playful glint in her eyes.
"You are my best client."
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