Three Days Earlier - Royal Capital
The messenger bowed low before the throne.
"Your Majesty, the northern fortress of Kar'eth requests reinforcements. The Berserker army numbers in the thousands."
King Aldric waved his hand dismissively.
"Two hundred knights. Five hundred infantry. That is sufficient."
"Sire, the reports indicate—"
"I have made my decision."
The messenger withdrew.
---
In the courtyard below, Knight-Commander Michel paced impatiently.
Pink and blue hair catching the light.
Green eyes bright with barely contained energy.
Despite his youthful appearance, he was one of the kingdom's most dangerous fighters.
And certainly its most irritating.
"Finally!" he exclaimed as a royal aide approached.
"What did the old man say?"
"Commander Michel," the aide said stiffly.
"His Majesty has authorized two hundred knights and five hundred infantry for the northern deployment."
"Only seven hundred? How boring." Michel spun in a circle, cape swirling.
"I was hoping for something more dramatic. A full legion! Siege equipment! Maybe some experimental weapons I could test!"
"The king was quite clear about the numbers."
"Fine, fine. When do we leave?"
"Dawn tomorrow. You'll coordinate with Ranger-Commander Voss, who's redirecting his eastern patrols—another three hundred men."
"Voss? That smooth-talking bastard?" Michel grinned.
"It's been a while since I've seen him I heard he charmed his way past an entire enemy garrison. This is going to be *fun*."
The aide looked pained.
"Commander, please remember this is a serious military operation."
"Oh, I know. That's what makes it interesting!" Michel pulled out a small notebook.
"I've been reading the reports from Kar'eth. Do you know what they say?"
"I... have not been briefed on the details."
"Arden my favorite student tactical coordinator has been running military operations. Successfully. Against an ancient Overlord." Michel's eyes gleamed.
"A thirteen-year-old student. Isn't that fascinating?"
"If you say so, Commander."
"I do! I absolutely do!" Michel began walking toward the barracks, speaking rapidly.
"See, I've been theorizing about combat prodigies and accelerated development. What causes someone to suddenly transcend normal growth patterns? Is it trauma? Necessity? Hidden potential finally activating?"
The aide struggled to keep up.
"Sir, your deployment roster—"
"Already memorized. Two hundred knights, including that new Valekrest boy. The branch family one. What's his name? Jeremy?"
"Yes, sir. Jeremy Valekrest."
"Perfect! He's related to Arden, right? Main family heir, if I recall correctly."
"Correct. Arden Valekrest is the direct heir to the Valekrest main house."
"Even better! I can compare them! See if genius runs in bloodlines or if environment matters more!"
The aide looked like he wanted to cry.
"Commander, please tell me you're not planning to run experiments during a military crisis."
"Of course not! I'll run experiments AND fight the military crisis. Multitasking!" Michel laughed.
"Now, where did I put my good sword? The one that explodes? No, wait, that's still broken. The one that freezes? Hmm..."
He wandered off, still muttering to himself.
The aide sighed deeply.
The northern forces are going to hate us.
---
Present Day - Approaching Kar'eth
"Commander Michel! Commander Michel, please stay with the formation!"
The knight calling out sounded exasperated.
Michel had run ahead again.
For the fifth time this hour.
"But I saw something interesting!" Michel called back, waving from a snowdrift.
"Look! This snow formation is shaped like a dragon! Isn't that neat?"
---
Jeremy Valekrest rode beside Lieutenant Harkan, trying not to laugh.
"Is he always like this?"
"Always," Harkan said grimly.
"Sometimes worse. Last month he dismantled the training yard's obstacle course 'to see how it worked' and couldn't put it back together."
"How is he a Knight-Commander?"
"Because when he fights, he's legitimately terrifying. The cheerful idiot thing? That's real. But so is the part where he once killed thirty bandits without taking a scratch."
Jeremy absorbed that.
"So he's dangerous and annoying."
"Extremely. Both qualities."
A shout from ahead.
Another group approaching.
Rangers on horseback.
Leading them—a man in his early thirties.
Handsome, with sharp features and dark hair.
Confident posture that bordered on arrogant.
Eyes that seemed lazy but missed nothing.
---
"That must be Ranger-Commander Voss," Harkan said.
"Watch yourself around him. They say he's romanced half the noble daughters between here and the eastern border."
"Sounds like a piece of work."
"He is. Appears shallow and self-absorbed. Slacks on paperwork. Always looking for glory." Harkan paused.
"But don't underestimate him. That whole act? It's a mask. Underneath he's one of the most dangerous tacticians in the kingdom."
Jeremy studied the approaching commander.
"So he's faking the womanizer thing?"
"No, that part is definitely real. He just uses it as cover. Makes people underestimate him." Harkan's expression was serious.
"The enlisted men hate him because they think he'll steal their sweethearts. The nobles think he's a vain fool. Meanwhile, he's ten steps ahead of everyone."
"Sounds complicated."
"It is. Just... be careful what you say around him."
---
Voss rode up, his posture relaxed yet somehow perfect.
His uniform immaculate despite the harsh march.
He surveyed Michel's scattered formation with barely concealed amusement.
Then his eyes landed on Michel and his smile widened—charming, effortless.
"Knight-Commander Michel, It's been a while since we last met." His voice was smooth as silk.
"Your reputation precedes you. Though I expected you to be.... taller."
Michel bounded over, oblivious to the subtle dig.
"Voss! The legendary smooth-talker himself!"
"I prefer 'diplomatic specialist,' but sure." Voss's smile never wavered.
"I've heard interesting things about you too. Something about destroying a bridge 'to see what would happen'?"
"That was for a reason!"
"Of course it was." Voss's tone suggested he didn't believe that for a second.
Something passed between them—Voss sizing up Michel as either tool or obstacle.
Michel either completely oblivious or pretending to be.
"So!" Michel said brightly.
"Kar'eth fortress! Under siege! Should be exciting!"
"Exciting is one word for it." Voss's smile remained but his eyes sharpened.
"Though personally, I prefer 'opportunity for advancement.'"
"Opportunity?"
"Every crisis creates vacuums of power. Smart people position themselves to fill those vacuums." Voss gestured ahead casually.
"Shall we see what opportunities await at this charming little fortress?"
Jeremy felt a chill.
He's thinking about how to profit from this. Even now.
They pushed forward through the snow.
---
After a few minutes, Voss casually fell back to ride beside Jeremy's unit.
"You're Valekrest?" he asked, his tone friendly and warm.
"Branch family?"
"Yes, sir. Jeremy Valekrest."
"Interesting." Voss's smile was disarming, like they were old friends.
"Your cousin is Arden?"
"Yes, sir."
"I trained him myself he's my future partner and crime plus I've seen nothing but good news in the reports I've read." Voss's tone was conversational, almost gossipy.
"Between you and me—what's he really like?Give me some embarrassing stories."
Jeremy looked dumbfounded his impression completely broken.
What's he planning?
But Voss's smile was so open, so genuinely interested, that Jeremy found himself answering.
"Arden was always talented. Exceptional swordsman. Sharp mind. But a little bit arrogant. He barely trained because he thought he didn't need to."
"Ah, youthful confidence. We've all been there." Voss chuckled warmly.
"And now?"
"Now..." Jeremy struggled for words.
"The reports are insane. Twenty Berserkers killed by eight students. An Overlord commander defeated. Tactical operations that shouldn't be possible."
"Fascinating." Voss's eyes gleamed
"That kind of transformation doesn't happen naturally. Something triggered it. Trauma, perhaps? Desperation?"
"I don't know. That's what scares me."
"Scared of your own cousin?" Voss's tone was sympathetic.
"That must be difficult."
"It's more that I don't understand what changed him."
"Understandable." Voss nodded thoughtfully, then his expression became more serious beneath the casual facade.
"You know what I've learned in my years of service?"
"What, sir?"
"The best way to understand someone is to watch how they operate under pressure. See what choices they make when everything's on the line." Voss glanced at Jeremy.
"You'll figure out what changed your cousin soon enough. And when you do..."
He smiled, the charm returning as he raised a thumbs up.
"Let me know so I can make fun of that overly serious kid."
Jeremy felt uneasy.
He's either collecting information and building a psychological profile or an Idiot.
Before he could respond, sounds reached them.
Voices singing in the distance.
"I stood upon a mountain built of iron corpses!"
"Red streams flowed from it, like hatred's tears!"
"I honor our fallen beneath this mountain of mine!"
---
Michel stopped dead.
His playful demeanor vanishing instantly.
Voss's smile faded into sharp focus.
"Now that's interesting," Voss said quietly.
"A new war chant," Michel agreed, suddenly serious.
"Very new. The linguistic structure breaks traditional patterns."
"Someone at Kar'eth wrote it recently." Voss's eyes narrowed with calculation.
"Want to bet it was our prodigy tactical coordinator?"
"That would be my guess."
"Kar'eth forces, sir. In high spirits despite exhaustion. Singing while working on fortifications."
"Morale's good despite weeks of siege?" Voss's eyebrow raised.
"Impressive. Condition of the battlefield?"
"Covered in Berserker corpses, sir. Thousands of them."
Silence.
Then Voss laughed—a genuine sound, sharp and delighted.
"Thousands. Against an undermanned garrison."
He looked at Michel, smile widening into something more real.
"This is going to be even more interesting than I thought. I do love working with competent people."
"Told you it would be fun!"
---
They crested the ridge.
And even Voss's practiced composure cracked slightly.
"Well," he said softly, his casual mask slipping.
"That's... impressive."
The battlefield sprawled before them.
Red snow stretching to the horizon.
Mountains of corpses.
Destroyed siege equipment.
And in the center—a crater fifty feet wide.
---
Where something massive had fought.
And died.
"That's not normal combat damage," Michel said quietly.
"No," Voss agreed, his tactical mind already analyzing.
"That's Integration ability pushed to its absolute limit. Or beyond."
----
Jeremy couldn't breathe.
Arden did this.
My arrogant, lazy cousin created THIS.
Movement ahead.
A group approaching from Kar'eth.
Rangers leading the way.
And at their center—
Jeremy's breath caught.
Arden.
White hair. Ice-blue eyes.
But everything else transformed.
The way he moved, like every motion had purpose.
The way he held himself—confident without arrogance.
The presence he projected—command authority.
This isn't my cousin anymore.
Or maybe it is, and I never really knew him.
---
Michel had gone completely still.
Analyzing with sudden intensity.
Voss's expression was excited—his eyes tracked every detail of Arden's movements.
A ranger called out:
"Halt! Identify yourselves!"
"Northern Knight-Commander Michel" Michel called back cheerfully.
"With reinforcements! Also, your corpse arrangements are very artistic!"
The rangers looked confused.
But relaxed slightly.
Arden stepped forward.
His eyes swept across the assembled forces.
Counting numbers.
Evaluating equipment quality.
Assessing threat levels.
He's analyzing us the same way Voss is analyzing him."
Commander Michel," Arden said, voice hoarse with exhaustion."Welcome to Kar'eth. Your timing is... fortunate."
"Valekrest!" Michel's cheer snapped back into place.
"My famous tactical coordinator! I've been reading about you! Tell me, how did you—"
Voss stepped forward smoothly, interrupting with practiced ease.
"My favorite Ranger himself." He extended his hand with a genuine smile.
"It's truly an honor to meet the man behind such remarkable results. The reports simply don't do you justice." He said in na teasing tone
Arden shook the offered hand.
But Jeremy saw something pass between them.
Recognition.
Two predators acknowledging each other.
"Commander Voss. It's good to see you again."
Michel bounced between them, oblivious to the undercurrents.
"Is that your cousin? The one standing over there looking like he's seen a ghost?"
Jeremy jerked.
Everyone turned to look at him.
Arden's gaze found him.
Recognition flickered, then softened slightly.
"Jeremy? What are you doing here?"
"Assigned to Commander Michel's unit," Jeremy managed.
"Didn't know you were... I mean, the reports said..."
He couldn't finish.
Arden's expression gentled.
"I changed. A lot has changed."
"That's putting it mildly, Arden boy is my future Fire and Shadow partner" Voss interjected smoothly.
"But perhaps we could discuss the specifics inside? Where it's warmer and we can speak....not in the cold?"
"And where I can ask about that crater!" Michel added enthusiastically.
Arden looked between them.
The eccentric genius and the eccentric charmer.
Two very different kinds of dangerous.
"Right. Inside then."
---
As they walked toward the fortress, Voss naturally fell into step beside Arden.
"That war chant. You wrote it?"
"I did."
"Interesting choice of imagery it's a lot different then your last one. Mountains of corpses. Hatred's tears." Voss's tone was excited.
"Very visceral. Very effective for morale in prolonged combat situations."
"The soldiers needed something raw. Something that matched their lived experience."
"The psychology of war poetry." Voss nodded with what seemed like genuine approval.
Michel bounced ahead, asking rapid-fire questions about defensive fortifications.
Voss walked with confidence, every word and gesture deliberate weapons.
And Arden moved between them, exhausted but alert, guard never lowering.
---
The briefing room was packed.
Michel sat in a chair backwards, chin resting on folded arms.
Voss leaned casually against a wall
Commander Thorne and Lieutenant Helena represented Kar'eth command.
Arden stood at the map table, looking exhausted but focused.
"Status reports," Thorne began.
"Casualties: forty-two dead, sixty-eight wounded. Defenses holding but damaged. Supplies strained but manageable with reinforcements."
Michel raised his hand like an eager student.
"Yes, Commander Michel?"
"Why did the Berserker army retreat after losing their field commander? Standard siege doctrine would be to press the advantage while defenders are exhausted."
Voss straightened slightly, genuinely interested in the answer.
Arden looked up.
"War Essence. The Berserkers' power source. It's accumulated through combat experience—victory bolsters it, defeat weakens it. After losing the Obsidian Warden and taking heavy casualties, their collective War Essence was critically depleted."
"Ah." Voss's expression sharpened with understanding.
"Morale-based energy system. How long until they recover?"
"Three days minimum. Maybe a week if we're fortunate."
"Which gives us a window." Voss pushed off the wall, moving to the map with sudden focus.
"The question is—how do we exploit it?"
"Fortification," Thorne said.
"Improve defenses, rest the troops, prepare for the next assault."
"Predictable," Voss said, though his tone remained respectful.
"Which means the Overlord will expect it. What's the counter-play, Valekrest?"
Arden studied the map thoughtfully.
"He's pulled back beyond the northern ridge. Establishing a fortified camp of his own."
"Smart bastard." Voss's smile was appreciative.
"Denying us offensive options. Forces us into pure defense, gives him time to fully analyze our capabilities and plan counters." He looked at Arden with new respect.
"I'd do exactly the same thing."
"So would I."
Their eyes met across the map.
Understanding passing between them.
Michel bounced in his seat excitedly.
"So we need to do something unexpected! Something he can't predict based on observation!"
"Difficult when he likely has intelligence-gathering capabilities among his remaining commanders," Voss noted thoughtfully.
"Wait." Arden looked up sharply.
"The Warden had Aura Sight—could read battle intentions directly. But he's dead. Do we have confirmation that the Overlord has other commanders with that specific ability?"
Silence.
"We don't," Helena admitted.
"Excellent question," Voss said, eyeing Arden with increased interest.
"Because if he doesn't have another Aura Sight user, he just lost his primary intelligence method. He can still see formations, count numbers, observe equipment. But he can't read intentions anymore."
"Which means psychological warfare becomes viable." Voss's smile widened genuinely.
"Feints. Misdirection. False intelligence. Make him second-guess everything we do."
"Exactly."
"I like where this is going," Michel said, scribbling furiously in his notebook.
----
The meeting continued, strategies developing organically.
Jeremy watched from the edge of the room, observing the dynamics.
Michel contributed wild ideas that somehow had tactical merit.
Voss refined them with layers of psychological manipulation and information warfare.
Arden synthesized everything into coherent, executable strategy.
Three different types of genius working in concert.
By the end, everyone had clear assignments.
As people filtered out, Voss lingered deliberately.
"Valekrest. A word?"
Arden looked tired but nodded.
"Sir?"
---
Voss waited until they had relative privacy.
"That shadow transformation of yours. The twelve-foot form that killed the Warden." His tone was fangirl like.
"How much does it cost you? Mana-wise?"
"Why do you want to know?"
"I need you to act as me so I can avoid some noble girls later on and make my lies more believeble." Voss's smile looked foolish but his eyes were dead serious.
Arden was quiet for a moment, then answered honestly.
"Your an idiot."
"Cmon pretty please." Voss holding his hands in a praying gesture
"Where's lieutenant Riza when you need her."
"Ah fine you're no fun." Voss turned to leave, then paused deliberately.
Then his charming mask snapped back into place and he left with easy confidence.
Jeremy approached his cousin after Voss departed.
"That guy is dangerous."
"No he's an idiot."
"Huh?"
"You'll understand someday just to let you know his true personality is a womanizing idiot who's good at his job" Arden rubbed his face tiredly.
"Do you trust him?"
"I trust that he wants to win this battle. And that he's smart enough to be serious right now." Arden paused.
"After we win you'll see during the celebration he's definitely an idiot"
---
Jeremy studied his cousin carefully.
When did you get so pragmatic?
When did you learn to work with people like Voss without flinching?
What the hell happened to you?
But those questions could wait.
"Come on," Jeremy said.
"Medical ward. You look like death warmed over."
"Feel like it too."
"Then let's fix that before you actually die."
Arden smiled slightly—the first genuine smile Jeremy had seen.
"Thanks, Jeremy. For being here."
"That's what family is for."
They headed toward the medical wing together.
Behind them, the fortress settled into uneasy rest.
Tomorrow would bring new challenges.
New strategies.
New dangers.
But tonight, they had a brief respite.
And for soldiers, that had to be enough.