The room fell into an astonished hush, all eyes turning to the young prince who had dared to interrupt the weighty discussion. His question hung in the air like a fragile thread, momentarily disrupting the somber mood. The figures around the war table exchanged incredulous glances, their expressions a mix of disbelief and disdain. Eric Stormheart's stern visage bore a deep frown, his voice dripping with a mixture of frustration and disbelief.
"Run away?" he echoed, his tone edged with scorn. "You propose, Your Highness, that our solution is to turn tail and flee? Have you no comprehension of the dire circumstances we are entrenched in?"
Of course I do you dumbass ! That's why I am trying to run away here, but how would you know ? With your handsome face & hero wannabe aura that screams muscles equals brains. Chiseled features and stormy eyes. You aim to etch your name in history, preferably before history could facepalm.
The wise old prime minister's gaze fixated on the prince, his eyes conveying a blend of reproach and disappointment. "Abandoning our posts in a moment of crisis would render us pariahs in the annals of history," he retorted, his voice a combination of sternness and admonishment.
Yeah ! You shut up baldy. I know you are from the queen faction who wants me to be your puppet king ! Like hell I would listen any bullshit you spout !
Warden Lysandra Emberclaw's fierce resolve did not waver, but a glint of begrudging respect flickered in her eyes. "Running away may not be our path," she interjected, her voice laced with a grudging admiration for the prince's audacity. "But there might be merit in your suggestion if we can adapt it to a more strategic approach."
No you blockheads ! Run ! I am saying let’s run Nincompoop !!
Obsidian's clenched fists slowly relaxed, his expression shifting from anger to contemplation. "Perhaps," he conceded, his tone still firm but with a hint of consideration. "We may not evade this confrontation, but we can reshape the battlefield to our advantage."
Wait ! this might really be a chance here ! I can make them change from head on battle to guerrilla tactics, where I can find a way to run away in the chaos of battle when no one is looking ! Yes, let’s go with that !
The young prince's face brightened, a spark of hope igniting in his eyes. "Exactly!" he exclaimed, his voice gaining strength. "Instead of facing them head-on where their numbers are overwhelming, why not engage them in a terrain that nullifies their advantage? We can strike from the shadows, use guerrilla tactics, and whittle down their forces."
Eric Stormheart's frown softened, his features showing a glimmer of approval. "A strategic retreat to more favorable ground," he mused, his voice carrying a note of consideration. "It would allow us to buy time, disrupt their formations, and create opportunities."
The prime minister nodded, his skepticism giving way to measured contemplation. "The essence of leadership lies not just in brute strength, but in outsmarting the enemy and using one's resources wisely," he acknowledged, his voice a blend of wisdom and newfound respect.
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Yes ! Yes ! Stop spouting random wisdom quotes !
Warden Lysandra Emberclaw's growl took on a more thoughtful tone. "We might not have the advantage in numbers, but we possess knowledge of our land and its secrets," she conceded, her eyes narrowing as she evaluated the possibilities.
Man, she's even hotter in real life ! her tail looks so fluffy !
Obsidian's voice carried a hint of determination as he addressed the young prince. "Your idea, Your Highness, may offer a glimmer of hope, a chance to turn the tide without forsaking our honor."
Yes ! yes ! a chance ! a chance ! a beautiful chance !
Blackroy dragonsbane’s eyes shone with a mix of pride and relief. "Then let us adapt our strategy, not as an act of cowardice, but as a demonstration of our ability to outmaneuver and outthink our foes," he proclaimed, his voice gaining strength.
As the discussions delved deeper into the intricacies of their new strategy, the atmosphere shifted from skepticism to determination. Plans were drawn, roles assigned, and contingencies considered. The young prince found himself at the epicenter of this transformation, his initial interruption now shaping the destiny of their realm.
With their resolve ignited and their minds focused, the council members dispersed, each tasked with specific responsibilities in executing the unconventional strategy.
Stepping out of the tent, the air felt crisp against Blackroy’s skin, a refreshing contrast to the intensity that had filled the war council. The feline guardian was beside him as always. The sounds of the camp buzzed around him – the clinking of armor, the distant neighing of horses, and the murmur of soldiers preparing for the challenges ahead.
As he emerged into the open, his gaze instinctively turned to the sky. Stars dotted the expanse above, their twinkling lights a reminder of the vastness of the world beyond their current struggle. The two moons hung low, casting a silvery glow over the camp, a silent witness to this meaningless squabbling of people made of momentary stardust.
He took a deep breath, allowing the cool night air to fill his lungs. This really was another world hmm ! As his footsteps carried him away from the tent, he could hear the faint sounds of camaraderie – soldiers sharing stories, laughter mixing with the soft crackling of a campfire.
It would really be good if he could save them, but that was not possible. No one here was actually for Blackroy, and why would they be? Blackroy was a depressed guy who was pushed around by his step-mom, the current queen. Half the people here were from her faction and the other half were either the knights responsible for blackroy’s security or the soldiers who admired Eric Stormheart. Even if he ordered everyone here to flee, they wouldn't listen. He somehow convinced them to not charge ahead to their death, that alone was a miracle !
But I don't have time to think for others ! My own survival is on the line, I am thrown into this strange world where I can't even trust what’s real or just a plot of someone’s fiction ! I can somehow remember every single detail of Blackroy’s life, even the ones that were not part of a game.
Lost in his thoughts and scheming about various ways to run away from battlefield, Blackroy rounded a corner and suddenly found himself colliding with someone. His heart skipped a beat as he stumbled back slightly, only to be met by a pair of vivid, emerald eyes framed by a set of adorable bunny ears.
The young woman before him was a striking sight – her mage's robe billowed around her form, a mix of intricate designs and vibrant colors. Despite her cute appearance, there was an undeniable fierceness in her gaze, a determination that sparkled beneath the surface.
"Apologies, my lady," Blackroy stammered, quickly regaining his balance. "I should have been more attentive."