Chapter 25 - Edges of War
The carriage jolted to a stop outside the palace, the wheels crunching gravel as the doors swung open. Liam stepped out, stiff from the ride, Lysandra, Selene, and Erynn followed close behind—cloaks dusty, faces set.
The air buzzed with urgency, guards were barking orders, horses snorting, the faint clang of steel echoing from somewhere deep in the courtyard. A soldier ushered them inside, boots clacking on marble as they wound through torch-lit halls, the chatter of the banquet a distant memory. They stopped at a heavy oak door, the guard knocking once before pushing it wide.
Inside, the king stood at a broad table, his gray beard stark against his crimson robe, hunched over a map of Eryndor—parchment creased, dotted with wooden markers. Generals flanked him, armored and grim, hands moving all over the map—pointing, shifting pieces. The king raised his head, eyes lighting as he saw them. "Oh, Hero, you're here finally," he said, voice rough but warm. "Come in—we're plotting our move."
Liam moved forward, the girls fanning out beside him, and peered at the map—Eryndor's sprawling kingdom, Thalrune marked with a red X near the western border.
General Torvyn—a wiry man with a shaved head and a scar splitting his lip—nodded curtly, tapping the table. "Here's where we're at," he said, voice clipped. "Thalrune's a border town—tight streets, river on one side, hills on the other. Maltheris' forces hit fast—likely light cavalry and skirmishers, cutting through the garrison before they could rally. Our plan's to retake it: send a vanguard to secure the river ford—archers on the banks, infantry holding the crossing—then push a main force through the hills to flank. Trap 'em in the town, squeeze 'til they break."
New n𝙤vel chapters are published on freewebnovel.cσ๓.
He traced the route with a calloused finger—arrows from the east, a pincer closing in. "River's shallow this season—ford's key. We hold it, they can't retreat. Hills give us high ground for bows and a clear shot at their back line. Worked at Drenvar two summers back—border fight, same setup."
The king cut in, raising a hand, his brow furrowing. "Solid, Torvyn, but like I said, let's make some adjustments to it. Maltheris isn't digging in—he's striking and vanishing just like his testing is. We don't trap, we chase. Vanguard takes the ford, yes, but lighter—scouts and riders, no heavy infantry. Main force splits: one half sweeps the hills, not to flank but to keep 'em moving. Second half circles south, cuts the trade road. His forces will bolt when pressed, at least that has been their recent strategy—and we herd them into a bottleneck here," He jabbed a spot east of Thalrune, a narrow pass. "Ambush there, finish it."
Torvyn grunted, shifting a marker. "Risky, splitting thins us. But if our enemies running, it could work." The other generals murmured, nodding, adjusting pieces.
The king turned to Liam, eyes glinting. "What do you think, Hero?"
Lysandra stiffened, stepping forward. "Your majesty, I don't think—" she started, voice sharp, but Liam cut her off, scratching his neck.
"I'm no battle expert," he said, grinning sheepishly, "but the king's plan sounds better. Chasing fits—guy's hitting and dipping, right? Traps are great 'til he slips out. Bottleneck's messy, but it's a kill shot." He shrugged, glancing at the map, feeling half-dumb but rolling with it.
The king laughed, a deep, rolling sound. "No doubt you'd pick well, Hero. You have sharp instincts—good." He clapped Liam's shoulder, then waved at the table. "Let's nail it down."
They hashed out their plan—scouts on fast horses, archers light and mobile, infantry holding the pass. Lysandra argued for more hill cover, Selene pushed for fire arrows at the bottleneck, Erynn suggested a feint to lure Maltheris out but it was very obvious that he wouldn't be present there so the idea wasn't even visited. Liam mostly nodded, soaking it in—terms like "vanguard" and "flank" still fuzzy, but the gist clicked: hit fast, keep the enemies on their heels, end them hard. The map bristled with markers by the end, a jagged dance of wood and ink.
The king leaned back, stroking his beard, voice dropping. "This isn't like Maltheris," he said, eyes narrowing. "He's always craved the clash—face-to-face, blood and steel. Now he's skulking, hitting border towns—Thalrune, Mytheris before it, all edges of Eryndor. No pattern I can pin, just... chaos." He tapped the map, frowning. "He's weaving something, something we're missing. Be wary—he's got a scheme brewing, and we need to crack it soon."
He straightened, gaze sweeping them. "One more thing: don't call on the Hero unless it's dire. He should just be around the battle ground, but not close enough to be noticed—for now. He's green, but he's our edge. I need to keep Maltheris guessing for now—let's hold that card."
No one argued. Lysandra's jaw tightened, Selene's tail flicked, Erynn just nodded, but the king's word stuck—firm, final. "Prepare to move," he said, rolling the map. "Dawn's your mark."
They filed out, armor clanking, the plan buzzing in Liam's head. He trailed the girls, sword bumping his hip, the weight of "edge" sinking in—he wasn't fighting yet, but he was something. As they hit the hall, a figure stepped into their path—the princess, gold hair gleaming, her gown a soft blue against the stone. She smiled, small but real, and locked eyes with Liam.
"Hero," she said, voice light, stepping close. "Good luck—your first taste of battle. Come back safe, alright?" Her hand brushed his arm, quick and warm, her gaze lingering a beat too long.
"Uh—thanks," Liam stammered, grinning, heat creeping up his neck. "I'll... try not to die?" She laughed, soft, and stepped back, letting them pass.
Lysandra shot him a look—half-amused, half-warning—as they headed for the courtyard. "Focus, Hero," she muttered, but her lips twitched. Selene smirked, tail brushing his leg to tease him.
"First the maid, now the princess," Selene teased, voice low. "You're collecting fans."
"How did you know that," Liam grumbled, his face red from embarrassment, the palace fading behind them.
Selen chuckled and then whispered in his ear "don't worry I haven't told anyone."