UNLOCK: I CAN SEE MY STATS

chapter 48 : Betrayal?

They gathered in the grand command tent erected in the heart of the valley, where mountains loomed around them, as if silently observing their tense discussion. The tent's interior was spacious, lined with thick carpets, and around a rough wooden rectangular table sat seven generals , five men and two women , representing the last of the military elite of this worn-down camp.

The first to speak was General Korvan, a man in his fifties with a trimmed beard and grey hair encircling a clear bald spot. His face was lined with age, and his sharp black eyes seemed always in search of a weakness in the darkness of war. His voice came out hoarse:

“The Eastern Camp... it didn’t last more than two days. The patrol unit was completely wiped out, and forty-eight hours later, the spy unit vanished. No traces, no survivors, no messages.”

Silence fell for a moment, broken only by the sound of their heavy breathing. Eyes exchanged uneasy glances. General Tiresse, a woman in her forties with a stern face and narrow eyes, her brown hair tied tightly in a braid, crossed her arms and said:

“The fall of the camp was expected. But our forward units disappearing without a single signal... that’s betrayal , or worse.”

At the other end of the table, General Maldric slammed his rough fist against the wood, the sound echoing in the tent. Maldric was a massive man with jet-black hair and ember-like eyes, a long scar cutting across his left cheek.

“Betrayal? I don't believe that's all there is to it. Ironland doesn’t strike with such precision unless they have inside information. Someone here is leaking our plans.”

General Elena leaned forward, her short black hair framing a sharp gaze. She was in her late thirties, with calm features that masked a burning intellect. Her voice was soft but edged with warning

“This isn’t the time for accusations. Yes, the camp has fallen. But now we must focus on why Ironland and Glograph have started moving together. Reports confirm both are gathering their armies.”

General Darius spoke up, a young blond man with dark eyes. Despite his calm appearance, he carried an unyielding stubbornness. Handsome yet hardened, he said:

“The reports are accurate. Our scouts spotted Glograph forces moving on their western border, while Ironland's units advance on the eastern front. It’s like a pincer movement.”

General Ricard unfolded a worn-out map, spreading it across the table. Ricard was a quiet man of short stature with calculating grey eyes that rarely missed a detail. The map was old, its lines faded but still clear.

“The next stronghold... Saragh Fortress. If it falls, our borders will be wide open for them to march into our heartlands.”

Tiresse stared at the map before turning to Korvan:

“Who’s defending Saragh now?”

Korvan exhaled heavily

“The Third Battalion, under Captain Gray. Barely five hundred men.”

Maldric snorted:

“Perfect. Five hundred men against two armies? Should we send them their coffins now, or wait for the enemy to deliver them?”

Elena ignored him and said:

“This isn’t just about defense. We’re facing an alliance , the first in twenty years. If Ironland and Glograph truly made a pact, this war just entered its most critical stage.”

She paused briefly, then continued with confidence:

“We need initiative. An attack, even a limited one. We can’t sit back and wait for them to surround us.”

Korvan caught the doubt in some of their eyes. He said slowly:

“An attack is a risk... but it might be our only chance to break their alliance before it cements.”

Darius asked:

“Where do we strike?”

Ricard answered quickly:

“The southern border of Glograph. The terrain is narrow there, the mountains block visibility. We could send a small force to hit their supply lines.”

Tiresse nodded:

“A message , merging their armies won’t make them untouchable.”

Maldric’s tone was heavy:

“And what about Ironland? Even if we hit Glograph, nothing stops Ironland from pushing toward Saragh.”

Elena replied:

“That’s why we delay them. We’ll send a sabotage unit behind their lines , explosions, rumors, hit-and-run strikes. Anything to slow their advance.”

Korvan muttered as he studied the map:

“One plan, two simultaneous strikes... they might think we’re stronger than we are.”

Tiresse stood and said firmly:

“Then it’s settled. I’ll lead the assault on Glograph. Maldric, you’ll handle the sabotage in Ironland.”

Maldric smirked faintly:

“Finally, a job that suits me.”

Korvan looked at them all, his voice grave:

“I won’t sugarcoat it... this could be the last battle we fight together. If we fail, there won’t be another chance.”

They fell silent, even the air inside the tent seemed frozen.

Ricard broke the tension with a sardonic smile:

“If this is our farewell... let’s make it loud.”

A smile touched Darius’s lips:

“Very loud.”

Elena shook her head slightly:

“We don’t need noise... we need results.”

Korvan stood, drawing his sword from its scabbard, lifting it over the table:

“For the land... for our people.”

They all echoed in unison, their voices rising above the map that traced a world teetering on the brink of war:

“For the land!”

And just as their voices faded, the tent’s flap burst open. A young soldier, breathless and eyes wide with something between fear and urgency, stepped inside without waiting for permission. He clicked his heels and said:

“Commanders! Two soldiers from the Eastern Camp... they’ve just arrived. They’re alive... and they claim to have urgent information.”

Another silence fell , this time charged with anticipation. The generals exchanged glances before Korvan spoke with sharp command:

“Bring them in... now.”