Lord Griffith punched the table. He had managed to flee from Cridia's capital before it was surrounded and then swiftly taken. His stupid father had died in that city, but he was too smart to give up his life so easily. He fled to his lands and swiftly declared himself the new King of Cridia. Everything was going according to his plans. With his own stocks and supplies from Metaka's agents who promised to support him, he had managed to arm thirty thousand soldiers. The lesser nobles managed to gather another thirty thousand soldiers. But not since Zeus manifested a week ago... He shuddered at the thought of fighting against the Gods, but it was too late. Once the people saw Zeus and heard his angry voice, the support he had crumbled into dust. Soldiers dropped their weapons, refusing to fight, and the vast majority of the peasants turned against him. His colossal army shrunk to barely twenty-five thousand soldiers. Metaka's agents were cut off and declared outlaws by the Emperor's children, who allied themselves with that accursed Theon.
"My Liege! They are here!" His general entered his chamber with a fearful expression.
"So quick..." Lord Griffith's gaze darted at the painstakingly prepared map. "Give an order to Lavlka to intercept them..."
"They are HERE!" General Korthu yelled at him. "They somehow managed to sneak past all our lookouts, fool the guards at borders, and they have reached this very castle. They called us to surrender. If we obey, we will be judged. If not, we all are going to die. Sire... The soldiers are in a panic, and some of them want to surrender."
"Impossible..." Griffith dropped his quill. "Can we fight them?"
"No. We have just one thousand soldiers, and they greatly outnumber us." The general shook his head.
"We must fight, General! Give me a moment to don my armour." Griffith slowly turned towards his armour rack. "Go and tell soldiers to prepare."
Once the doors behind the general closed, he swiftly opened the secret passage to the tunnels under his castle. He lit the torch, and after closing the passage, he swiftly scaled down the narrow staircase. He cursed the Gods who betrayed him, he cursed Josla, who was unable to kill that lunatic, and lastly, he cursed Theon Avalon for not dying. He reached the secret tunnel under the castle and ran towards the hidden stable. It wasn't over yet. He planned to gather all his remaining soldiers and fortify one of the bigger cities. With some luck, he could negotiate with this self-proclaimed king for autonomy for his province.
•••
Galahad shook his head and facepalmed. "Morrigan, why are you allowing him to escape?"
"Without him, we can't truly say who would fight us and who would not. If we kill him too fast, all those in his service will surrender just because there would be no point in fighting," the Vampire Princess explained calmly.
"Indeed. Lady Amber wished to save as many Mortals as possible." Galahad looked at his younger sister-scion.
"But we serve King Theon," she then replied defiantly.
"Oh, I see..." Galahad relaxed. "That is true indeed. But you must consider this, Morrigan. While the King's will is absolute, his Queens have wisdom unavailable to us and still not discovered by him."
"But..." She tried to oppose him but was silenced by the surge of his power.
"WE CAN RULE OVER THE MORTALS EASILY WITH FEAR..." Galahad loomed over her; despite not moving from his chair, his eyes shone blood red instead of the usual blue. Dark shadows surrounded him and started swirling around her, ready to swallow her. Morrigan, despite being a fellow scion, was paralyzed by fear. As suddenly as he changed, he returned to his usual self. "But this is not the way he truly wishes. Our Lord is not an evil overlord or heartless monster. He is something greater, young Morrigan. You still need to learn it, feel it inside your core, and discover this spark he planted inside you. Once you awaken it, you also will become something more."
"I..." She stuttered and looked in shock at Galahad. After a moment needed to calm herself, she spoke. "If we kill everyone, that will sadden the Queens, terrify the people, and bring harm to the Kingdom..."
"Indeed. Those guilty of treason will be executed. But all the rest? They are tools of those who hold the power of authority over them. There is no glory in killing the weak. There is no gain in pointless violence." The Death Knight crossed his arms in front of him as he leaned back in his chair. "The mind moves the body, Morrigan. Defeat an opponent in their minds, and you have already defeated their body. They fear us, Morrigan; they feel doubts sowed by Lord Zeus, and the memory of our armies crushing every Cridian force thrown at us is still fresh. They need the one last push to be utterly defeated in their minds. We merely have to make them surrender. Do you understand?"
"Yes..." Morrigan lowered her head, trying to comprehend everything Galahad had told her. "I shall send the Praetorians to hunt that man."
"No. If we kill him without witnesses, it will end in a bloodbath. His people have to see his demise." Galahad stopped her. "Call upon this garrison one last time to surrender and tell them their Lord abandoned them. Then we will follow him and crush whatever force he joined."
"Yes, Lord Galahad." She lowered her head and sighed. There was so much for her to learn...
•••
Griffith was hasting the mount he had obtained from Metaka for the entire day until he reached the main forces stationed between two insignificant villages. A tall palisade and multiple watchtowers protected the large camp at the forest's edge. It wasn't a formidable fortress, but it provided an additional layer of security. As he arrived at the gates, the camp guards were shocked to see him alone. Nevertheless, they led him straight to General Fortis.
"Sire?! What are you doing here?" he asked in shock.
"The enemies attacked my castle! I survived only because I was on a stroll outside."
"How is that possible?" General Fortis paled. "What about General Korthu?"
"Dead with everyone else. They put up a hell of a fight before the castle was taken. I hoped for their victory, but the enemy was too numerous..." Griffith's voice broke into a screech as he was startled by the alarm trumpets.
"The enemy must have followed you, my Lord!" General Fortis put on his helmet. "But we are ready, sir."
"We are completely surrounded, General, my Lord!" one of the captains reported, terrifying Griffith. "They called us to surrender and await your answer, Sire!"
Griffith's eyes darkened as he looked at the nearby soldiers who trusted his words. He swallowed slowly and tried to collect himself. He needed to get out of here. He couldn't die in a place like this. He started planning how he would escape again on their way towards the palisade that protected the camp. As he climbed the watchtower, a terrible feeling struck him as he watched the sea of enemies. He noticed two riders waiting under the walls in the bright afternoon sun: a black-clad knight and a beautiful woman.
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"Surrender," the woman called them before they could call them to identify themselves.
"Who do you think you are?!" General Fortis shouted at them, full of anger. "You stand in front of the rightful King of Cridia! A ruling descendant of the unjustly killed Queen Josla!"
"Entertain me. Why do you think you have a right to rule this country?" the woman asked, visibly amused.
"By the will of Gods..." A roaring thunder smashed the huge boulder nearby, spitting it in half.
"As I thought. You are not only a liar… You are also delusional. Josla Cridia is alive, sentenced to a lifetime of punishment for all injustice and evil she allowed during her rule. What other lies have you told your people to serve you? I call you all for the last time! Surrender in the name of King Theon Avalon, the righteous King of Arcadia!"
Fortis looked at Griffith with accusation. The revelation that the former queen was alive made the people give Lord Griffith a wry look.
"You are lying!" Griffith bellowed in anger.
"Surrender, and all will be spared except for that man." The woman replied and pointed at Griffith. "Fight, and you all will die."
They turned away and rode towards the ranks of Arcadian Soldiers. Griffith realised that his only chance to negotiate with them had slipped away due to his own wrath. His chain of thought was interrupted by the commotion behind him. Some soldiers dropped their weapons and sat down, refusing to follow orders.
"General, we must attack at once! We will break the siege and move towards Accia, where our backup forces are stationed," Griffith demanded with a voice full of spite.
"Accia is almost one day away, sir. It's impossible." Fortis shook his head.
"Then the soldiers will open the path for us, and with your personal company, we will head for Accia!" Griffith hissed angrily at the general but saw disapproval in his eyes that angered the noble even more. "Do as I said!"
The general stood silently for a moment and clenched and unclenched his fists. Griffith's anger had almost reached a boiling point before Fortis looked at him disgustedly. "No."
"What did you just say?!" Griffith grabbed the General by the flaps of his cape but was struck down by the slap of the general's armoured hand.
"I said NO," Fortis hissed in indignant outrage and turned towards the camp. "Prepare to surrender!"
"You traitor!" Griffith darted from the ground and stabbed Fortis with his dagger. "Soldiers! Follow me!"
The soldiers’ silent and unreadable gazes focused on him, filling him with terror. General Fortis fought for his breath as he dropped to his knees, holding his bleeding side. After a moment of soundlessness, Griffith heard a velvety sound right behind him. As he turned and pushed his dagger without looking, it was stopped by an inhumanly strong hand. He started screaming for help, seeing the cold face and red eyes of the woman who had called them to surrender earlier. A cold pain took away his breath as it switched to a searing, unbearable heat. Griffith noticed that his chest was covered with blood– his blood.
•••
Legio Ferrata stormed the camp at the exact moment Morrigan killed that young, obnoxious noble. Galahad sighed heavily and facepalmed. She was so impatient... Half of the soldiers had surrendered but the other half regrouped around some lesser noble they seemingly admired. The Praetorians tore down the gate, and Ferrata's heavy infantry engaged the rebels. Galahad slowly walked towards the carnage that ensued in the rebel's camp, pondering how long it had taken him to awaken his spark. Since he wasn't sure, he could hardly blame Morrigan for her eagerness to adhere strictly to his Majesty's orders. He bowed down as he noticed something he needed on the ground. A stick. He nodded to himself after confirming its sturdiness and size. Not too thick, not too thin, not too long, and not too short. He was lucky to find himself such a perfect stick.
He resumed his slow march towards the camp, holding his stick behind him as he returned to his thoughts. The problem with Morrigan, frankly, was simple. She carried a significant burden on her shoulders, and technically speaking, she was way too young. She had been designated as the commander of Legio Aegis and the Praetorian Guard. He understood her rank, but the King asked him to teach Morrigan. So he, a field marshall, was going to teach her, yet it was apparent that his current methods needed improvement. His stick should improve the education process. As Galahad walked through the camp, a sword flashed in his hand just before he cut through a Mortal that attacked him. Without slowing his pace, Galahad reached the Praetorians who should have been guarding Morrigan, finding only the Legion Legate, who had tried to do his best.
"How is a battle going?" Galahad asked jovially.
"It's ugly, my Lord. It's..." the Vampire Lord lowered his head.
"Hmmm?" He encouraged him. "Go on. You can tell me your thoughts without consequences."
"It's wrong, my Lord! This is not a battle! This is chaos, a mess! This is not how we, the Immortal Legions, wage war!" the Legate admitted in disgust. "Lord Jasper would be so disappointed..."
Galahad exhaled with relief and patted the shoulder of the Legate, bursting into genuine laughter. "Thank you, Legate. You are right."
"Sir?"
"I see that even you have a spark inside you. Congratulations on awakening it," Galahad rejoiced. "I will tell you later about it, Legate. But right now, tell me how this battle is going."
"From the five thousand people who had initially surrendered, about a thousand changed their mind and joined the fight. The others were safely escorted away and should have reached Fulminata's positions by now. The remaining rebels are decent soldiers, but that's not enough to stop us. Our losses are minimal, and we managed to split their forces. This is not going to take much more."
"I assume that you are leading the forces?" Galahad asked in an innocent tone.
"I... *sigh* Yes, my Lord." He looked ashamed.
"Great job, Legate." Galahad once again patted Vampire's shoulder, and Legate's face brightened. "Last question. Where is Morrigan?"
"There..." Legate pointed his finger at the part of the camp where the heaviest fighting was taking place.
"Thank you. Continue your excellent job of fixing this mess. I'll go find Morrigan and explain to her the importance of adhering to the plan and following the chain of command..." Galahad's voice showed some of his disappointment and a hint of anger.
"May I ask a question, Sir?" There was some almost unhealthy curiosity in Legate's voice.
"But of course!"
"Is this stick really necessary?"
"I'm afraid it is..." Galagad sighed.
•••
"So Morrigan... I think that by now, you should grasp the idea of figurative speech." Galahad waved his stick over the picture he had crudely sketched in mud.
"Yes..." she meekly confirmed.
"All right then. So when I told you that I was going to whoop your ass so hard with my stick that your ass would develop a second crack, what did I actually mean?"
"That you would whoop my ass so hard I would remember that for a long time, Sir!" she explained with a pale face.
"Excellent! And what did our King mean by spilling a lake's worth of blood?" Galahad patiently asked, tapping his stick on his open hand.
"That the punishment of those involved had to be severe and unavoidable. But the degree of punishment should be equal to the degree of guilt."
"Annnnd, what else should we remember?"
"That not everyone who rose against the King is equally guilty."
"You learn, Morrigan! Excellent. Truly commendable." Galahad sounded as if he beamed a smile, but then he looked at the piles of corpses around them. "Or it would be if..."
"Sorry..." she sounded genuinely sorry.
"All right. Temporarily, I believe that you are truly sorry. Next time, just observe and learn."