Blake and the Seraphim Security team moved towards the DAGOR UTV, which had already been unloaded from the transport truck and now sat idling, ready for the mission ahead. The specialized vehicle would serve as their primary transport to the Loyta-Nal Kingdom, where they were tasked with securing a peace treaty and contacting any Elven forces that had escaped the occupied territories.

Lorian, standing at a distance, couldn’t take his eyes off Blake. The memory of the In-Den Spider rider's words echoed in his mind: Where is the Queen? His hand instinctively tightened around the hilt of his long Elven blade. Lorian felt a storm of emotions churning inside him—anger, suspicion, and the burning need for answers. If Blake is here, did he succeed in his mission? Or did he fail? If he failed... Lorian’s grip on his sword tightened. ...Blake's life is forfeit.

Before he could act on those thoughts, Kyle Thompson, moving with the instincts of a seasoned warrior, intercepted him. In one swift motion, Kyle’s left hand clamped down on the hilt of Lorian's sword, halting its draw. He locked eyes with Lorian, shaking his head firmly. No words were spoken, but the message was clear: Now is not the time.

Lorian, breathing heavily, stared back, his eyes filled with suspicion and pain. Before he could voice his anger, Kyle spoke in a low, measured tone. “The Queen... and the Princess are safe.”

Lorian blinked, his fury flickering with sudden uncertainty.

“They're alive,” Kyle continued, “protected in a secure hospital in Runshilla. Adele, the Hero, guards them personally. The unborn prince is safe too.”

The news hit Lorian like a wave of relief. The tightness in his chest loosened, and his hand fell away from his sword. His eyes, once fierce with anger, softened, and he nodded, the weight of vengeance lifting from his heart.

"Thank you," Lorian murmured, his voice thick with emotion. Kyle, though outwardly calm, had prepared for the worst, his pistol out of its holster and ready, had Lorian chosen violence instead. But now, both men stood in silent understanding, their paths temporarily entwined.

Blake, who had observed the interaction from a distance, approached as the moment of tension passed. Lorian, now composed, glanced at the DAGOR being prepped for the journey and turned his attention to the convoy's arrangements. Kyle, holstered his pistol and waved him off, a subtle gesture that stated nothing wrong had happened. Blake turned his attention back to the DAGOR.

Blake, along with the Seraphim commandos, began a thorough check of the vehicle, inspecting every detail for any signs of malfunction. The supply soldiers was already busy nearby, overseeing the uploading of ammunition and ensuring everything was secured for the mission.

“Ammo's almost in,” one of the soldiers called over, gesturing toward the supplies. “Let’s make sure we’re fully stocked before we head out.”

Blake nodded, moving to help soldiers secure the last crates of ammunition and food into the DAGOR. "We can't afford any mistakes on this one," Blake remarked, his voice steady but carrying the weight of the mission. They finished loading the additional ammo, confirming that everything was in place.

Meanwhile, Corporal Shara Stoneclaw, the comms specialist, approached the DAGOR with a large case slung over her shoulder. She placed the case on the ground and opened it, revealing a brand-new long-range radio set, essential for maintaining contact with Runshilla HQ.

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

“I’ll get this installed and running,” Shara said, giving a brief nod to Blake and the Seraphim leader. She wasted no time and climbed into the DAGOR, beginning the process of integrating the radio into the vehicle’s comms system.

Blake, wiping his hands after securing the ammo, moved over to Lt. Tarfire who stood nearby, overseeing the final preparations.

“We’re all set, Lieutenant,” Blake said as he approached. “Ammo’s loaded, vehicle’s ready, and Shara nearly done hooking up the long-range radio now. Anything else we should know before heading out?”

Lt. Tarfire looked up from his JCVAIL screen, where he’d been monitoring the drone feeds for any signs of Austorian movement. He gave a quick nod, acknowledging the readiness of Blake’s team.

“Just one thing,” Tarfire said, his tone serious. “Keep an eye out as you begin north. We haven’t seen any Austorian patrols in a while, which makes me nervous. It’s a long way to the Loyta-Nal Kingdom so they could be lying low. If you spot anything unusual or are engaged, break radio silence and contact us immediately.”

Blake nodded. “Understood.”

At that moment, Shara popped her head out from the passenger seat of the DAGOR, a satisfied grin on her face. “Long-range comms are online,” she announced. “We’re patched directly to Runshilla HQ. If anything happens, we’ll be in constant contact.”

Blake gave her a thumbs up. "Good work, Shara."

As the last of the preparations were made, Lorian approached, his eyes momentarily lingering on Blake. He had spent some time reflecting on his near-confrontation with the Hero and what Kyle had told him about the safety of the royal family. Now, seeing Blake in action, he felt a quiet respect growing, though questions still lingered.

Lorian turned to Blake, his expression calm but serious. “Are we really ready for this journey? To think they were as far out as Mirra,” He shakes his head as if to shake off the dire thoughts. ”The roads ahead… they may not be as clear as we hope.”

Blake met his gaze. “We’re as ready as we can be. If anything comes up, we’ll deal with it.”

Lorian nodded, accepting the answer for now. He turned toward Kyle Thompson, who stood nearby, his rifle slung casually over his shoulder, his demeanor calm but focused.

“You’ve been quiet, Kyle,” Lorian observed, his voice betraying the unspoken bond that had grown between them since their earlier tense moment.

Kyle offered a small smile. “Just making sure everything’s in order. The moment you’re on the road, things are going to move fast.”

With the last checks completed, the convoy was finally ready to depart. The Seraphim squad leader Code named Dealer approached the DAGOR, giving it a final once-over before climbing into the vehicle commander’s seat. Blake and Lorian settled into the vehicle, as Coaler, a Seraphim Comms specialist began ensuring the comms system was functioning smoothly.

“We’re ready to move out,” the Dealer said over the radio to Lt. Tarfire.

Lt. Tarfire gave the go-ahead. “Move swiftly and keep your comms clear. We’ll be monitoring until we leave.”

As the convoy began its journey, the Beastkin soldiers waved farewell to the Elven children and civilians. It was a moment of brief but heartfelt connection between two peoples who, just a short while ago, had known little of each other. Corporal Brightclaw, the team’s medic, fought back tears as some of the Elven children hugged her one last time.

“Take care of each other,” Brightclaw whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Nearby, Sergeant Targzon and Kael Swiftail waved as well, their expressions softening as they watched the young Elves depart.

As the convoy rolled forward, Blake sat in one of the rear seats of the DAGOR, his thoughts focused on the mission ahead. Lorian, seated beside him, remained quiet but vigilant, his mind clearly still on the situation with the Queen and the future of his people.

“What’s on your mind?” Blake asked, glancing sideways at Lorian.

Lorian hesitated for a moment before answering. “I’ve spent so long thinking we had no allies left. Now, seeing all of this…” He gestured to the advanced equipment and the Beastkin soldiers. “It feels… surreal.”

Blake nodded. “I understand. But we’re here now, and we’re in this together.”

The words seemed to resonate with Lorian, who simply nodded, his resolve hardening as the convoy began toward their next destination.