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Chapter One hundred and fifty-seven
The ridge was no longer a battlefield — it was a cauldron. Fire consumed the rear wagons, smoke coiled upward, arrows rained like locusts. The cries of dying men mingled with the clash of steel. And beneath it all ran the sharper wound: betrayal.Adrian tore his blade free from a soldier’s chest and turned, his eyes narrowing toward the burning wagons. Panic spread like wildfire, captains shouting, lines faltering.“Myles!” Adrian bellowed across the din. “Rally the rear! Seal the breach!”But Myles — once the loudest to cry traitor — stood frozen, his face pale, his eyes darting wildly. Adrian’s chest clenched. Is it him? Did the serpent coil this close?He shoved the thought down. This was no time for hesitation. He charged through the smoke, cutting down two assailants who bore no crest — mercenaries planted to strike from within. Yet the doubt gnawed. If mercenaries were already inside the camp, then someone had opened the gates.And the letter’s words returned: Trust no one…Sel
Chapter One hundred and fifty-six
The first arrow struck with a hiss, burying itself in the throat of a young soldier who had not yet drawn his blade. He collapsed with a strangled cry, and in the heartbeat that followed, the ridge erupted.The fall of the young soldier was a great trigger! The soldiers' reactions were a whirlwind of chaos and urgency as the surprise attack unfolded. Men scrambled to grab their gear, sprinting to strategic positions while shouting commands and rallying their troops. The sound of clashing steel and enemy war cries grew louder, heightening the sense of urgency. Soldiers rapidly loaded their weapons, donned armor, and formed defensive lines. The atmosphere was electric with adrenaline and fear as the men steeled themselves for the brutal battle ahead. Leaders bellowed orders, guiding their troops into position. Every second counted, and the soldiers' lives hung in the balance. Amidst the turmoil, some soldiers exchanged fleeting glances, their faces set with determination. The clash
Chapter One hundred and fifty-five
The ridge quivered with the thunder of approaching drums. Every beat felt like a hammer against the heart, a countdown to ruin. Yet for one suspended breath, before steel struck steel, the world seemed to hold still.From the rise above the camp, Adrian watched his soldiers scramble into formation. Shields locked, spears bristled, but he saw it — the cracks in their unity, the doubt in their eyes. The letter had done its work.He gripped the hilt of his blade until his knuckles whitened. I should have burned that cursed parchment the moment I read it. Now, the weight of it pressed heavier than his armor.His gaze slid toward Selene. She stood with her unit of shadow-knights, her scar glowing faintly in the dim dawn. She looked unyielding, but Adrian knew her well enough to see what the others did not: the tremor in her stance, the storm behind her eyes.Do you stand with me still, Selene? Or will the serpent prove right?The thought burned like poison. Yet even now, despite his doubts
Chapter One hundred and fifty-four
Far from the ridge, in a cavern lit by blue fire, Darius stood over a table carved with runes. His generals knelt in a half-circle, their armor dark as oil, their faces hidden by shadow.On the table lay a copy of the same letter that now poisoned Adrian’s camp. Darius’s lips curved into a cruel smile as he traced the parchment with one gloved finger.“Fear,” he said softly, his voice carrying like venom through the chamber. “It is sharper than steel, more loyal than gold. One whisper can cleave an army in two.”The generals raised their heads. One, bolder than the rest, asked, “And if Adrian sees through the trick?”Darius’s smile widened. “Then suspicion will eat him from within. Either way, he marches into our jaws.”A messenger hurried in, dust clinging to his cloak. He bowed low, offering a report.“My lord, the Ashborn march toward Cindral’s ridge. Their captains quarrel openly. The queen walks alone in their camp. The poison spreads.”Darius’s eyes gleamed like obsidian. “Good.
Chapter One hundred and fifty-three
However Adrian's condition worsened by the day and everyone was losing hope.Here, only fate could decide his chance of survival since all medical interventions had already been exhausted to no avail. Adrian's condition had deteriorated to the point where the medical expert in charge of his treatment expected him to die.Miraculously, Adrian gradually began to recover until he eventually regained his strength.Adrian began preparing for war by honing his combat skills, studying military strategy, and gathering intelligence on the enemy. He also focused on building his physical strength and endurance, knowing the battles ahead would be grueling. Adrian's determination and resilience, forged during his recovery, fueled his readiness for the challenges of war.The army — encouraged by Adrian's quick recovery, moved at dawn — boots thudding against the frost-hardened earth, banners snapping in the wind. To the eyes of any passing villager, it was a host united — iron helms glinting, shi
Chapter One hundred and fifty-two
The torches of the war camp guttered in the wind, their light flickering like unsteady hearts. Adrian sat alone in his tent long after the captains had gone, the parchment lying on the table like a venomous serpent waiting to strike.He could still hear the arguments — Roderic’s booming denial, Myles’s sharp accusations — and beneath them, Selene’s voice, cold and cutting as steel.But the whisper of betrayal lingered.Before the moon wanes, one will deliver you to Darius.At dawn, Adrian summoned the captains again. They gathered stiffly, eyes narrowed, their armor gleaming but their hearts heavy. The letter’s poison had already begun its work.“Tonight we march on Cindral’s ridge,” Adrian announced, his tone steady though his chest burned. “Darius will not expect us to strike so soon. We will cut his supply lines before his main force can descend.”A murmur rose — not of assent, but of suspicion.“March blindly into his trap, you mean,” Myles spat.“Or perhaps,” Roderic countered, g
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