Snow Town, Temporary Encampment of Arik's Unit
Inside the command tent of the camp temporarily established by Arik's troops in Snow Town, the air was thick with tension.
"The rebel army has sent reinforcements," Shuma reported, his expression one of astonishment. "They're marching out in force to face the Royal Army head-on. This might become the first full-scale battle in two months. You and that guy really stirred up something big this time."
As the head of the Shadow Organization, Shuma had eyes and ears everywhere. Neither the Royal Army nor the rebels could hide their movements from him. The moment either side acted, his infiltrators among their ranks relayed the news instantly.
Arik, idly toying with the sniper rifle in his hands, replied calmly, "We didn't stir anything up. The rebels and the Royal Army did this themselves.
Even though the two sides haven't fought large-scale battles these past months, small skirmishes have been constant behind the scenes. Over time, hatred festers. Officers and soldiers alike grow restless under prolonged standoffs watching comrades die while being unable to strike back. They're desperate to fight, to end this bitter stalemate.
Both sides' higher-ups have been restraining their troops, but that kind of suppression can't last forever. People's patience has limits. Tell me, those soldiers who've watched their friends die, do you think they feel lucky to still be alive?"
He gave a low, humorless chuckle.
"No, no… most of them are in agony tormented by grief, hatred toward their enemies, fear of death, and longing for their families. That pain keeps building, and without a proper outlet, what do you think they'll become?
All we did was toss a little spark onto that pile of dry wood soaked in hatred. Those three ships of grain were the fuel. The moment friction flares boom everything will burn. Once it starts, no one can stop it."
As Arik spoke, a faint gleam of excitement appeared in his eyes, his composure giving way to a dangerous thrill.
Shuma frowned. "But tell me what good their slaughter brings us?"
He couldn't understand why Arikk and Aaron had gone through so much trouble just to trigger an early decisive battle between the Royal Army and the rebels.
Those three grain ships alone were worth a fortune. To lose them here seemed like a terrible waste.
Arik merely gave a secretive smile. "You'll understand later. For now, prepare for battle. By my estimate, they'll be here any minute."
He slung the sniper rifle over his shoulder and strode out of the tent.
Shuma sighed but didn't press further. He followed, though a flicker of excitement crossed his own face.
As an information broker who'd spent months buried in intelligence, Shuma had grown far sharper than before. At first, he didn't grasp the plan but once he calmed down, analyzed the reports, and imagined himself in Arik and Aaron's positions, the answer came naturally.
"If the rebels and the Royal Army don't cripple each other here, someone like me despised by both sides, will never rise above being a pawn. And being a pawn is nothing compared to becoming the one who moves them."
"Once both armies bleed each other dry, Arik can expand his forces. With Aaron's support, he might even become a decisive third power a kingmaker in this war."
Both men reached the same conclusion in their minds.
Meanwhile, Outside Snow Town
About a kilometer away, a troop of riders dashed across the snow each astride a reindeer, hauling sleds carrying armed soldiers. The rebels' vanguard had arrived.
After half a morning's march through the blizzard, a force of over three hundred reindeer cavalry approached Snow Town, cutting through the storm with grim determination.
At the front rode two female officers identical twins except for their hairstyles, both mounted on towering stags.
Even through the thick layers of their uniforms, their striking figures were unmistakable statuesque, poised, beautiful, yet cold as ice. Their frigid expressions made even their own soldiers nervous; the sisters' eyes held open contempt for the men behind them.
Yet those very soldiers adored them.
"Pick up the pace!" barked the elder sister, Michellea, her short golden hair whipping in the wind. "Commander Glynn's orders are clear before that traitor's reinforcements arrive, we're to eliminate him completely!"
"Yes, Lady Michellea!"
"Even angry, she's beautiful!" one soldier swooned.
"She looked my way, I'm blessed!" cried another, lost in the heat of infatuation.
Michellea's temple twitched. She pressed a hand to her forehead, veins popping. "Idiots… can we really rely on this lot to win?" she muttered in exasperation.
Her twin sister, Monica, laughed softly beside her, her long golden curls bouncing as she stretched lazily. "Relax, sis. Idiots they may be, but they're still reindeer cavalry trained by that fool Philip himself. They're stronger than regular troops.
Our target only has about a hundred men. As long as you and I keep that traitor busy, the rest will crush his forces easily. Then, once we take him down, we can finally ask for leave. I'm sick of being cooped up in that camp full of sweaty men."
Unlike the stern and disciplined Michellea, Monica was carefree and confident, radiating unshakable self-assurance. She even pulled out a small mirror to touch up her makeup, utterly unconcerned by the looming battle.
Michellea's gaze hardened. "Do not underestimate him, Monica. That traitor's strength is real. Even Philip couldn't defeat him."
The sisters belonged to the fallen Christian family, and this battle was their chance to restore its honor. Defeat was not an option.
But Monica waved off the warning. Her confidence was born of her battlefield record not arrogance, but proof.
If Arik was the Royal Army's rising star, then Michellea and Monica were the twin prodigies of the rebel side, celebrated as the "Twin Valkyries."
During the assault on Snowstorm City, they had led just a few hundred cavalry against a Royal Army regiment of a thousand and won decisively.
Since then, their reputation as "War Goddesses" had spread across the rebel ranks.
Even during the grain-route ambush campaign, their record was spotless. Not a single supply convoy under their escort had been raided and once, they had even repelled Arik's own squad.
That single victory gave Monica reason to take today's battle lightly. To her, facing Arik's hundred men without reinforcements was nothing worth fretting over.
In the Forest
"Michellea… Monica… it's been a while," a familiar voice murmured quietly. "Let me send you a little greeting."
Half a kilometer away, concealed high atop a tall tree overlooking the snowy plain, Arik adjusted the scope of his massive sniper rifle. Through the lens, the twin sisters came clearly into view.
He exhaled slowly.
Click.
The trigger was pulled.
The bullet tore through the air like lightning, straight toward Monica, who was still holding up her mirror, blissfully unaware.
Bang!
A burst of red blossomed against the snow.
---
[Every 50 Power Stones = 1 Bonus Chapter Drop]
For early access to advanced chapters visit my P@treon:
P@treon/ Dexy3
Thank you so much for your support and for reading!