Knight Luke was the soul and pillar of the Northern Alliance Army, their unyielding, iron-blooded battle standard against the wind.
If he were to fall, especially if assassinated during the decisive battle against the enemy commander, Aston the "Blood Lion," the blow to the Allied Army's morale would be devastating.
Once their morale shattered, the so-called Allied Army would be nothing more than scattered soldiers, ripe for the slaughter.
The army of the Fiery Sun Kingdom would surge forward like a tide and utterly overwhelm them.
Raylo's mind raced.
"Ed."
Raylo called out, his voice grave.
"Present, my lord."
Personal Guard Captain Ed, already fully attired, immediately stepped forward upon hearing his name.
"What's the status of the troops?"
"Reporting, my lord. We've finished breakfast. All men are in formation, ready to march at any time."
Ed's voice was firm and powerful, without a hint of hesitation.
"Very good. Remain on high alert."
