The central station of Valoria's capital trembled under the footsteps of
thousands of soldiers. Mana rails shimmered in blue light, glowing like veins
of energy stretching eastward. Locomotives lined up, their crystal cores
pulsing in rhythm with the war drums echoing across the city. The roar of the
people, the blare of trumpets, and the clatter of hooves merged into a scene
that none would soon forget.
On the platforms, the sight was overwhelming. Soldiers stood in neat ranks
with polished shields and ready bows. Warhorses were guided into special
carriages, their neighs sharp with unease. But what drew every eye were the
flatbeds carrying the giants of steel—mana cannons.
These were no ordinary weapons. Their long barrels were etched with runes,
their mounts anchored by massive braces, their cores glowing with a cold,
steady light. Built to be transported across the land, they were unloaded and
secured on the battlefield, ready to unleash mana bullets—crystal projectiles
the size of a man's chest, exploding with terrifying precision. A single shot
could shatter a barrier and carve open the way for thousands of men.
Arthur stood on the highest balcony overlooking the departure, his
black-and-purple cloak snapping in the wind. Beside him, Elara wore a Valorian
battle cloak, her face calm though her eyes betrayed a storm of questions.
Behind them, shadows moved silently—the Shadow Guard.
"Ren," Arthur said firmly. "Take charge of the line. Make sure the rails
remain clear until the border."
Ren nodded once, then vanished into the pillars.
"Reyna, Akira, Sebastian—you stay with Elara," Arthur continued. "As long as
she breathes, Valoria will not fall."
Reyna lifted her hand, scattering faint illusions to multiply the
silhouettes of guards around Elara. Akira stood a step behind, fingers always
near his hidden daggers. Sebastian carved glowing runes into the command car's
door, each one trembling with light, ready to explode at the touch of an
intruder.
Elara gave a faint smile. "It seems I'm guarded more closely than you are."
Arthur met her eyes. "Because your blood is the key. Riverbend will try to
reach for you, and I won't allow it."
A long whistle pierced the air. Mana engines ignited, their light flowing
down the rails. The train began to move. The people waved banners and cast
flowers into the wind, their voices rising as the great departure began: thirty
thousand soldiers, thousands of horses, wagons of supplies, and the mighty mana
cannons—all bound east.
The days of travel unfolded with countless stories. In one carriage,
soldiers sang loudly to push away fear; in another, men bent over scraps of
parchment, writing what might be their last words home. Some prayed in silence,
lips trembling in the lamplight.
In the logistics cars, engineers worked tirelessly—tightening bolts, testing
mana cores, synchronizing runes to prevent catastrophic accidents. These
weapons were not toys; one mistake could kill their own men.
In the command car, Arthur sat with Elara, Marcel, Boris, and Hadrick. A map
of Riverbend stretched across the table, pinned by rune-stones to keep it
steady against the train's vibrations. Marcel pointed out the supply stations
ahead. Boris muttered calculations on provisions and pace. Hadrick tapped
potential choke points, his voice heavy. "Ren reports the line is secure up to
Valoria's border. Beyond that, expect sabotage."
Elara's finger brushed over the name Riverbend. Her breath caught.
"It is where my blood began. They may call me a traitor, but I know who truly
betrayed the people."
Arthur's gaze locked with hers. "You are no traitor, Elara. You are the
truth they tried to bury. And we will bring it back—even if it takes war."
The convoy rolled on. At every town they passed, crowds gathered on the
platforms, waving banners, cheering, some weeping. Children hurled flowers,
their eyes wide at the sight of the massive guns and endless lines of soldiers.
Mages sat cross-legged in a special carriage, eyes closed, channeling mana to
keep the rails stable. The blue glow carried them eastward, steady and
relentless, for two weeks.
Near the border of Riverbend, the train slowed and finally halted on an open
plain. Teams of engineers swung into action. Cranes lowered, anchors driven
deep into the soil. One by one, the mana cannons were unloaded, secured into
firing lines facing east. The flatbeds had served their purpose; now the
weapons stood rooted in the earth, teeth of iron and rune.
Reyna's illusions cloaked their numbers. Akira swept the treeline, his
blades ready. Sebastian inscribed protective seals across the control panels,
traps against sabotage.
Night fell. The cannons loomed under the moonlight, like the jaws of a
dragon waiting to roar. Elara stood watching the horizon, where the faint
silhouette of Kaelenspire could be seen. Arthur joined her.
"Kaelenspire," he said quietly. "The last fortress of Ethereal. Break its
barrier, and the road to Riverbend lies open."
Elara's eyes shone. "I will see Riverbend again. Whether as a land freed… or
a land we must take."
Arthur inclined his head. "And when that moment comes, they will see you not
as the lost princess, but as the queen returned."
At dawn, a pale mist clung to the plains. Operators raised the barrels,
calculated elevation, and slid mana bullets into place.
A short whistle. Two hammer strikes.
A cannon roared. The mana bullet streaked across the sky, a blazing shard of
blue that slammed into Kaelenspire's barrier. The explosion was focused,
surgical—runes cracked, walls trembled, dust plumed upward. The first fracture
split across the fortress's defenses.
A cheer tore from the ranks. Infantry surged forward, shields up, boots
pounding toward the gap. Reyna's illusions blurred enemy sightlines, Akira cut
down infiltrators in the trees, Sebastian countered magical ripostes before
they could strike back.
From afar, Kaelenspire's towers shook—the once-proud symbol of Ethereal now
cracking under Valoria's advance. Elara watched, her chest tight. It wasn't
Kaelenspire she mourned, but Riverbend that awaited beyond. Arthur stood beside
her, his expression iron, his eyes burning with conviction.
Two weeks of relentless march ended here. Thirty thousand soldiers,
thousands of horses, and the thunder of mana cannons shook the world. War did
not begin with chaos, but with precision: artillery opening the way, infantry
surging through, and Elara's truth echoing louder than barriers or walls.
Valoria advanced on Kaelenspire—not merely to seize a city, but to tear open
the path toward Riverbend, Elara's homeland, and the truth buried for too long.