Corvus was chained in Valerius's tent like a rabid dog. Fury boiled in his veins, his muscles tensed, and with every movement, as if trying to break free from the chains, deep cuts opened on his wrists. Yet, no matter how much he struggled, the merciless strength of the chains held him firmly in place. When he realized his strength was not enough, his rage gave way to a deep silence. He had no idea how long he had been there. He had lost all sense of time. The only thing he knew was that the seething anger within him had not gone anywhere.
When the tent flap opened, Valerius and Kaelyra entered. Valerius's upright posture and shadow-like, imposing presence shifted the atmosphere inside the tent. The moment Corvus saw him, he went mad again. The red light in his eyes flared like flames, his breath quickened, and his muscles tensed with rage. He lunged forward as far as the chains would allow and spat at Valerius's feet.
"You forgot the deaths of Tharvork and Draknar, you did nothing against the enemy! You cowardly dog!"
His voice was so sharp and thunderous that the air inside the tent seemed to tremble. Kaelyra's eyes widened in shock, and she instinctively stepped forward. But Valerius acted faster than a blink. The slap he delivered was as heavy as a warhammer strike on the battlefield. Corvus's head snapped to the side, the muscles in his neck locking momentarily. Blood trickled from his jaw as the destructive waves of anger within him paused. But Valerius's words were even harsher than the slap:
"You bark too much for a fool who falls for provocations!"
Corvus's consciousness was struck by a sharp, icy realization. Provocation? What provocation? He had been on the battlefield facing the enemy and had done what he thought was necessary. But what if he had truly been manipulated like a pawn? Lightning-like thoughts began to flash in his mind. The enemy had been there... but why? Why had the enemy revealed themselves so openly? Why had they risked facing their strongest warriors head-on? Corvus's breathing became erratic, his eyes no longer fixed on the chains but on Valerius's cold, emotionless gaze. At that moment, he understood the weight of Valerius's words.
Something had gone wrong... and worst of all, he had failed to see it.
Noticing the change in Corvus's expression, Valerius spoke with a cold demeanor:
"Finally understood, brat?"
His voice echoed inside the tent, calm yet crushing like a heavy boulder. Corvus clenched his teeth, and under the weight of Valerius's words, the chaos in his mind began to clear.
The true intentions of Millan, the commander of the Brihmond army, were now clear. Their first move had been to seize Galir. By doing so, they had not only expanded their territory but also eliminated those who knew something about the Black Masks. But the most dangerous part was that they had justified their actions by claiming to honor their so-called friendship with Rhazgord.
This clever move legitimized their aggressive advance while undermining the legitimacy of any potential retaliation from Rhazgord. Even if Rhazgord found a reason to go to war, they would not be able to justify their stance on the international stage. The most terrifying part was how Brihmond had provoked Corvus.
Corvus's actions had served Millan's plan perfectly. Brihmond had gathered a force equal to Rhazgord's army and presented a threatening stance. Their goal was not to start a war but to force Rhazgord to be the first to attack. If Corvus had succumbed to his rage and acted, sparking a war, even if Rhazgord emerged victorious, their strength would have been severely weakened.
Most of the Rhazgord army was currently fighting demons under the leadership of Sanguinar Sakhaar Tiamat in a distant part of the continent. If Valerius's army suffered a heavy blow here, Brihmond could quickly rally allies under the pretext of being unjustly attacked and form a new army to invade the weakened Rhazgord territories.
Corvus felt as if a fist had lodged itself in his throat. The anger and ambition within him had given way to a painful awareness. Now everything was clearer. He had been someone's pawn. The enemy had tried to use his rage and aggression as a weapon.
When Valerius saw the change in Corvus's expression, a faint, mocking smile appeared at the corner of his lips. "Did you have to be chained up to understand this?" he said, his voice both stern and disdainful.
Corvus's mind was a storm. He couldn't find a way out. The man responsible for the deaths of his friends and countless Rhazgord soldiers was just a few hundred meters away, but Corvus's hands were tied. It was as if they had captured not just his body but his soul. The anger within him swirled like a whirlpool, going nowhere. As his thoughts drowned him, he didn't even notice the words slipping from his lips.
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"What are we going to do?"
These words were no longer just a question in his mind; they echoed in the silent tent. But Corvus wasn't even aware of it. He didn't feel the chains being removed either. It was only when the weight on his wrists disappeared that he realized Kaelyra had come to his side and freed him.
Valerius spoke, his voice as hard as stone and as sharp as a blade:
"What we're going to do is simple. We'll retreat and wait for your father to arrive. After that, your father will decide what happens next."
Corvus lifted his head from the whirlpool of his thoughts. Valerius's words should have angered him further, but there was nothing he could do. The enemy was there, but even if Corvus reached out, he couldn't touch them. All his warrior instincts screamed at him to attack, but his mind told him to stay silent.
His eyes turned to the only motionless figure in the tent: Valerius. The man was eating the food in front of him with ease, savoring each bite as if he were at a banquet rather than on a battlefield. While his nephew was chained up, raging with fury, Valerius's calm demeanor only fueled the fire within Corvus.
There was a voice inside him that demanded rebellion, that urged him to protest, to slam his fist on the table. But he couldn't say anything. No matter how much he thought, he couldn't find a point to argue against Valerius's words.
It was then that he realized the chains on his wrists were truly gone. He slowly moved his hands; there was a slight ache in his muscles from being restrained for so long, but he ignored it. He moved not to shout or challenge Valerius and Kaelyra but simply to sit beside them.
He looked at the food in front of him. His stomach growled. He was starving, his vision blurring from hunger, but he had been so consumed by his thoughts that he only now realized it. He needed to clear his mind first. But he couldn't think on an empty stomach. He reached for the food. Soon, the tent was filled only with the sounds of spoons and plates.
For two days, Brihmond sent gifts and requests for meetings one after another. The parchments were sealed, the envoys respectful. But Valerius rejected each one with the same determination. He saw no need to speak with them. The message was clear: Rhazgord would not fall for Brihmond's games.
Now the army was ready to return home. The tents were dismantled, the soldiers making their final preparations. Some Rhazgord warriors carried a faint disappointment on their faces. Some of them had not found the great battle they had sought. Yet, despite this, the spoils they had gained, the experience they had earned, and the stories they would tell had soothed their hearts. Every warrior had gained something from this war.
But there was no doubt that the name that had left its mark on this war was Corvus. He had halted the advance of the Three Kingdoms Army, standing against fifty thousand enemy soldiers with just ten thousand cavalry. As if that weren't enough, during the siege of Bahem, he had personally killed one of the enemy's strongest warriors and led his troops from the front to capture the walls.
These achievements had multiplied the respect he commanded among the warriors. He was no longer seen as just a young and talented fighter but as a true war hero. Yet, what everyone talked about wasn't just Corvus's victories. They had sensed that the power he possessed was far greater than anyone had known. Despite his youth, he had displayed a strength on the battlefield that transcended human limits. And this had resonated deeply among Rhazgord's warriors. When Corvus returned to Sorbaj, everyone agreed on what he would do. He would challenge his rivals, rise in rank, and officially take his rightful place.
When the Rhazgord army reached the outskirts of Bahoz, it was time for another farewell. The Iskats were preparing to leave the army and return to their homelands. Horses were bridled, saddles checked. For Ilyada, it was also time to return.
Like Corvus, she had achieved great victories in this war. But the most significant change was in her spirit. The girl who had first arrived in Bahoz was not the same woman who was leaving now.
The two said their goodbyes quietly, contrary to expectations. No grand words were spoken, no unnecessary emotions displayed. Both their fates were clear. Their destinies and the agreement between their families had bound them together. No matter what, their paths would cross again. At the very least... they would meet again at their wedding in a few years.
When Corvus returned to Sorbaj, he stormed through like a tempest. Not just on the battlefields, but throughout all of Rhazgord, he moved like a hurricane. Every day, he challenged warriors far older and more experienced than himself, emerging victorious each time. Even Rhazgord's toughest warriors had no choice but to kneel before Corvus.
But these challenges were not just victories. Each fight made Corvus stronger than before. His experience grew, his mastery of the art of war sharpened, and with each victory, he drew closer to becoming one of Rhazgord's greatest warriors.
Finally, when he completed his challenges, Corvus earned a great privilege: the right to command five thousand warriors. This was an honor reserved only for the highest-ranking warriors. Now he held the same rank as Kaelyra. He had long surpassed Ilyada. There were now ten ranks between them. Corvus had entered the ranks of Rhazgord's top thirty warriors. And no warrior his age had ever achieved this before.
After completing his duties in Sorbaj, Corvus knew he had another task to attend to. This time, he didn't have an army with him. By his side were his brother Volmir Tiamat, the master sculptor Neratius from Rax, who had come to create a statue of Corvus's father, and his men. Volmir and Corvus sparred frequently as they made their way toward Bahoz.