The Dark Hours Before the Battle

  The icy wind blew across the encampment, lifting swirls of dust and making the flickering torch flames dance. The atmosphere was heavy, oppressive. Every man and woman present knew that a storm of blood was approaching.

  Kael stood on a rocky outcrop, scanning the horizon. The night was deep, but in the distance, he could see the faint glow of enemy campfires. They were there. So close.

  A crack behind him made him turn. Lysara approached, silent as a shadow, her hair tied in a tight braid.

  — "The scouts confirm our estimates," she murmured. "They outnumber us at least three to one."

  Kael slowly nodded.

  — "And their morale?"

  — "High. They think this battle will be a mere formality. They advance without fear."

  Kael gave a cold smile.

  — "Perfect. The harder they fall."

  Lysara crossed her arms, scrutinizing him with a piercing gaze.

  — "I know that smile. It always means something dangerous."

  — "We have no choice. If we just wait for them, we're dead."

  Silence settled between them. Lysara finally sighed.

  — "I hope you know what you're doing."

  — "Me too."

  Kael rested a hand on his sword, his gaze once again fixed on the darkness.

  Tomorrow, everything would change.

  The Final Moments Before the Clash

  Dawn approached.

  In the camp, the soldiers were finishing their preparations. Some were checking their blades one last time, others tightening the straps of their leather armor.

  Near the central fire, Darius was sharpening his great axe with almost ritualistic patience. He looked up at Kael as he approached.

  — "Are you ready?"

  — "As ready as one can be before a massacre."

  Darius let out a deep chuckle.

  — "I suppose we can't hope for a clean victory."

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  Kael shook his head.

  — "No. It will be a slaughter."

  Darius observed his commander in silence before placing a hand on his shoulder.

  — "No matter the outcome, we will fight by your side until the end."

  Kael briefly clasped his arm in gratitude.

  Further away, he spotted the princess.

  She was sitting on a rock, methodically cleaning the blade of her dagger. When he approached, she lifted her eyes to him, her expression unreadable.

  — "Are you afraid?" she asked softly.

  Kael hesitated for a second before answering.

  — "No."

  She gave an enigmatic smile.

  — "Liar."

  He sighed and sat beside her.

  — "Let's say I don't have the luxury of fear."

  She glanced at the soldiers around them, their tense faces, their nervous murmurs.

  — "They're all counting on you."

  Kael nodded.

  — "And I can't afford to let them down."

  The princess studied him for a moment before placing a hand on his.

  — "Then don't die."

  Their eyes met, a silent tension growing between them. Then, slowly, she leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips.

  A quick, intense kiss, like a silent promise.

  — "Come back alive," she whispered.

  Then she stood and walked away without another word.

  Kael watched her go, his heart pounding harder than he would have liked.

  The Ambush at Veldran Pass

  The enemy arrived at dawn, as expected.

  The opposing commander rode at the head of the column, confident in his victory, his army advancing in tight ranks toward Veldran Pass.

  Kael, hidden with his men in the forest’s shadows, waited.

  Slowly, the enemy entered the narrow passage.

  Kael tightened his grip on his sword.

  He let the front ranks advance further... further...

  Then he lowered his arm.

  — "Now."

  A howl pierced the air.

  Boulders tumbled from the heights, crushing dozens of soldiers. Arrows whistled, piercing enemies before they even understood what was happening.

  Then, with a crash of steel, Kael and his men burst from their hiding spots, charging the enemy with devastating ferocity.

  Kael struck the first soldier in his path, his blade sinking deep into flesh. He pivoted, dodged a hatchet blow, and retaliated with a brutal slash, cutting another enemy’s throat.

  Around him, chaos reigned.

  Darius roared as he cleaved a rider’s skull in two with his axe. Lysara darted from target to target, her daggers finding gaps in armor with deadly precision.

  The screams of the wounded echoed, mingled with the clash of blades and battle cries.

  Kael parried a spear thrust, kicked his assailant back, and plunged his sword into his belly.

  Blood spurted in a crimson arc.

  But as he withdrew his blade, he sensed a presence behind him.

  He turned just in time to see the enemy commander charging at him, sword raised for a killing blow.

  Kael barely had time to lift his own blade.

  The clash of steel rang through the air.

  The commander smirked fiercely.

  — "You're just another rat to crush."

  Kael didn't respond.

  He abruptly pivoted, unbalancing his opponent, and struck.

  His blade slid under the commander's breastplate.

  The man's eyes widened, a gurgle of agony escaping his lips.

  Kael drove his sword deeper, feeling the life leave his enemy's body.

  Then he kicked him away, watching his corpse collapse into the blood-soaked mud.

  The remaining enemy troops, seeing their leader fall, began to retreat.

  But Kael had no intention of letting them flee.

  — "No mercy!" he roared. "Crush them!"

  His warriors bellowed in response, charging after the fleeing soldiers.

  The carnage continued for another hour until the last enemy was cut down.

  When silence finally fell, Kael stood among the corpses, his armor drenched in blood.

  He knew this victory was just another step on a long path.

  But today…

  Today, he had won another battle.