Chapter 261: It Begins (I)
Having the King and Chiefs agree to the plan was only a minor phase in the steps to victory. That, White knew as he stood upon the balcony of the lone tower within his Guard Empire, overlooking the entire kingdom.
From here, he could see the burning crops in the distance, having so easily formed a raging fire. The gates stood thrown wide open as the Outer Circle civilians were forced through them amidst tears.
Turned away from their homes, with the crops they had worked on for six months burning behind them.
Then there were the Inner Circles themselves.
Soldiers checked each home, bringing out the men and dragging boys away from their crying mothers.
All of it felt evil, yet White’s expression remained unchanged.
In a way, it all overlapped with the first test.
When the mothers would cry for him not to kill their children. If he listened to them, he would watch only moments later as those same children turned into demons and ripped them to pieces.
When someone knows of the destruction that is coming before others do, then inaction isn’t kindness.
It is evil.
But if he refused to listen to them and killed the children, they would point their fingers at him and call him evil.
So what was evil, really?
An idea that changed so easily based on the perspectives of those involved?
"Or a hard choice performed by those with the strongest of wills for a better sake that only they may see."
White mused to himself.
He had said the strongest of wills because he knew not everyone could do it.
He had sometimes watched a demon child rip its own mother apart, yet the father could do nothing but back away in fear, unable to deliver the final blow that would kill the child.
And more than once, he had watched a mother still pick up her own child’s corpse and cry bitterly, even when that same child had just slaughtered the father.
But what did that make those with the capability to do it?
Noble?
"No... No nobility should feel this sickening."
STEP!
A footstep sounded behind him, and he turned slightly as Juntar dropped to one knee behind him.
"My Lord."
"How is it going?"
White asked curtly.
"Surprisingly and unexpectedly well, my Lord."
He said, and White froze.
"The blacksmiths and merchants have all pulled together, crafting arrows, armor, and spears at a speed previously unrecorded."
"Bringing in the Outer Circle farmers has helped speed things up even further."
"The drafted civilians?"
White asked.
"They’re adapting quite well once they get over the shock. Many are already being measured for their armor, and basic spear training is already in progress for more than five thousand newly drafted men."
"It might not be enough to make them warriors, but... it’ll turn them from a burden into a help."
"And our numbers are already increasing quite rapidly."
"Your plan... it’s working, my Lord."
"Good. Go and keep oversight of everything. Report to me at the end of the day."
He said.
Juntar bowed once more before rising to his feet and leaving.
When he was gone, there came a quiet whisper.
"It’s working..."
White said beneath his breath.
The plan, evil and cruel as it felt even to himself, was actually working.
Still.
"Cruelty works, huh? Who could have guessed?"
He mused, a quiet laugh of mockery escaping his lips before his eyes hardened.
They had a day and a half before the enemy arrived and the war began.
Even with his weakened strength, White did not plan to remain within the castle and watch from afar when the war started.
When the battle came, he would be at the forefront.
And for that, he needed to prepare well.
_____________
1 day and 12 hours later...
RIIIIING!
...
RIIIIING!
RIIIIING!
...
RIIIIING!
RIIIIIIIIIING!
RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!
The kingdom bells rang.
Once, twice, then continuously, their heavy sounds spreading across the entire kingdom.
Everyone froze.
The women kept deep within the king]dom.
The army of soldiers and draftees standing behind the gates.
The sound was usually made when an important announcement was to be delivered.
But this time, it meant something different.
The enemy had arrived.
White stood atop the walls, overlooking the vast plains beyond the kingdom.
Directly behind him stood Juntar and several commanders.
Directly before him was...
Hell.
At first, it appeared only as a dark line upon the horizon.
Then the earth began to tremble.
BOOM!
BOOM!
BOOM!
The vibrations traveled through the stone walls and straight into White’s feet.
He could see the dust rising into the sky, a great cloud so massive that it looked as though a sandstorm was advancing toward the kingdom.
It drew closer, shapes beginning to emerge from within.
And for the first time, White saw them.
The Hellwraths.
Silence spread across the walls, the sound of pounding hearts rhythmically increasing.
The barbarians were enormous, with the shortest among them standing over two meters tall.
Their bodies looked as though they had been carved from dark iron.
With massive arms, thick necks, and broad shoulders, each one appeared capable of tearing apart an ordinary man with his bare hands.
Even more eye-catching were the skulls some hung from their belts.
Human skulls.
Entire chains made from human spines swayed against their bodies as they marched forward.
Some wore cloaks stitched from skin, while others wore armor fashioned from the skeletons of fallen enemies.
Then came the beasts that a few of them rode upon.
Massive black wolves larger than horses.
Monstrous bears covered in scars.
Creatures resembling giant rats the size of carriages, their yellow teeth protruding from their mouths like daggers.
And then the banners appeared.
A great black banner stitched together from hides, and upon it was painted a skull whose left side seemed to have been ripped apart by the claws of a beast, leaving behind the unmistakable imprint of a claw.
It was the symbol of the Hellwrath Kingdom.
Looking at their numbers, White could easily estimate at least eight thousand.
The number struck him harder than expected.
Not because it was larger than anticipated.
No.
He and Juntar had anticipated and prepared to face ten thousand of them, and this force seemed to number no more than nine thousand at most.
It was because of how that army looked.
As though approaching was not an army of eight or nine thousand.
But an army of ten thousand nightmares.
"This...This is insanity."
