Elron watched Maris approach and said, “Take him somewhere. Make sure no one sees him or talks to him.”

She strapped her shield to her back, scooped up the prince, and replied, “Yes, my lord.”

Elron turned back to the streets, watching as hundreds of his soldiers were corralled into groups. They were down sat confused, some even frustrated. He couldn’t help but pity them.

Slyra rose to her feet and asked, “Why did you do that? We were winning.”

“The army was,” Elron replied. “You were not.”

A soft smile tugged at Slyra’s lips as she looked away. “Thank you… but what now?”

“You’ll go with Maris. I need to handle things here,” Elron said.

Slyra smirked, circling him with an amused glint in her eye. “So commanding. Should I fetch you a cold drink while I’m at it?”

He chuckled. “Ha, don’t mock me now.”

“The war’s not over, Prince Elron,” a low growl interrupted them. The black-furred beastman, approached with a menacing aura.

Elron frowned. “You agreed, didn’t you?”

He lifted his wrist, displaying the glowing seal. “It’s still here,” he growled.

Kael poked in, examined the seal while scratching his chin. “Oh, an enslavement seal—haven’t seen one of these in decades. A strong one too.”

He turned to him, curious. “Who are you, and who did you anger to get slapped with that?”

“I am Orox, and my mission was to end this war…,” the beastman said, but his voice faltered, leaving the rest unsaid.

Kael turned to Elron. “I assume ending the war is the condition for breaking the seal. We should gather the parties and formalize it.”

Elron nodded. “Right. Guess that’s my job then?”

Kael laughed. “Well, you are in charge now, aren’t you?”

Elron sighed. “Let me talk to the Major.”

Elron entered a dimly lit room, its walls riddled with holes. His eyes fell on Major Garethil, who froze mid-pace, then offered a stiff bow. “I knew you seemed familiar from the begining, Prince Elron.”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“Good to see you,” Elron said, gesturing to a chair. “Sit.”

The Major swallowed nervously before taking a seat. Elron remained standing.

“As you know, this fight is over. Soon, the war will be too,” Elron began, cutting off Garethil’s attempt to interject with a sharp glance. “Once it's all settled, you will gather the army and head home.”

Garethil leaned forward, hands clasped. “With all respect, my prince, the nation’s council and court will never approve of this. You’re not the acting general either—that’s Prince Adan.” He paused for a moment in thought, and then asked, “Where is he?”

Elron leaned in, hands pressing down against the table. “My brother is my concern, and my concern alone. As for the acting general, I’m it, for now.”

The Major stiffened, then bowed his head. “Understood, General Elron. No offense intended. Military protocol is ingrained in me after decades of service. I hope you understand…”

Elron relaxed, a smile tugging at his lips. “That’s why you’re perfect for what’s to come.”

Kael barged into the room, scattering documents across the table. “Here’s the contracts. It’s been a while, but I should have everything we need.”

The Major glanced at one particular parchment, eyes widening. “This paper, this ink... where did you get the materials for a magical contract?”

Kael grinned and nonchalantly said, “I used to do this for a living. Where’s the other party?”

“Orox is tending to his troops,” Elron replied. “He’ll be here soon.”

Kael pulled out a quill and ink. “Good. I thought I was running late.”

Moments later, Orox entered with a few beastmen warriors, their stern expressions matching their battle-hardened demeanor. The Major stood to greet them. “Welcome. Please, have a seat.”

Though the chairs were clearly foreign to them, the beastmen sat down. Kael began to read aloud from the contract.

“...From this day forward, all conflict will cease between the beastkin tribes and the kingdom of Aethoria. Below are two signatures, one from each party, with a representative to confirm their validity.”

Kael handed the quill to Elron, who scribbled his signature half-heartedly onto the dotted line. Garethil followed suit, signing his name in neat elvish script before slowly pushing the quill and ink across the table.

Orox folded his arms. “I can’t read this continent's language,” he growled.

Elron met his gaze. “You think I would deceive you now?”

A white-furred beastman beside Orox leaned in, examining the document. “Commander, the text is sound,” he confirmed before dipping his paw in ink and stamping the paper.

Orox glanced at his subordinate, then back at Elron. With a nod, he stamped his paw as well.

As soon as the ink touched the parchment, it glowed briefly before fading. In the same instant, the seal on Orox’s wrist shimmered, its ancient runes lifting into the air before disintegrating into fine dust.

A grin spread across Orox’s face, followed by laughter. “I’m free. I never thought I’d be rid of that woman.”

Elron’s brow furrowed. “What woman?”

Orox’s laughter died out. “The elven queen. I think she wanted you dead.”

“That’s treason,” muttered Garethil.

Kael shrugged. “Eh, it adds up.”

“She’s not the queen,” Elron growled, clearly annoyed.

Orox stood, stretching. “Maybe not yet. But she’s going to take over your kingdom soon enough. Not my problem though.”

Elron rushed forward. “What do you mean, ‘take over?’”

Orox spilled everything he had overheard. Garethil’s face twisted in shock, while Kael’s grin only widened. Elron stood silently, absorbing the implications, his mind racing with the weight of what he had just learned.