Marching to Battle
The war drums thundered.
Banners bearing the Blackwood sigil flew high as Leon's army marched south.
With Kael Varion's forces now reinforcing them, their numbers had swelled to 80,000 strong—a force capable of shaking the foundations of Varantis.
At the front, Leon rode his black warhorse, his eyes fixed on the horizon.
Darius rode beside him, grinning.
"Finally, we get to break something."
Elara, less amused, studied the terrain.
"Varantis will not sit idly by. They know we're coming."
Leon smirked.
"Good. Let them prepare. It won't matter."
Ahead, scouts returned, their horses galloping at full speed.
"Lord Leon! The Varantis army approaches—40,000 strong, led by General Alric Varos!"
Kael, riding at Leon's other side, chuckled.
"Varos is no fool. He's trying to stop you before you gain momentum."
Leon's gaze hardened.
"Then we will crush him first."
---
The Battlefield
By midday, both armies had taken formation on the open plains.
The Varantis forces stood in tight formations—rows of spear-wielding infantry, flanked by heavy cavalry.
At their center, General Alric Varos, a veteran of countless battles, watched Leon's army with sharp eyes.
"So, the Emperor's 'rising star' dares to march against me," Varos muttered.
His lieutenant shifted uneasily.
"Grand Duke Blackwood has more men than expected, my lord."
Varos sneered.
*"Numbers do not win wars. Strategy does."
He raised his sword.
"Prepare the archers. Let them taste our steel."
---
Leon's First Move
Leon studied the battlefield, his expression unreadable.
Kael rode up beside him.
"Varos will try to break our lines early. He's aggressive."
Leon smirked.
"Then let's make him think he's winning."
He turned to Darius.
"Take 5,000 men and feign a retreat on the right flank. Draw them in."
Darius grinned.
"Oh, I like this plan."
As the battle began, Varantis archers rained arrows down upon Leon's forces.
But Leon did not flinch.
He raised his hand—the signal.
Darius' troops pretended to falter, pulling back.
Seeing the "retreat," Varos took the bait.
"Charge them down!" he roared.
Varantis cavalry rushed forward, eager to break Leon's lines.
But just as they advanced—
Leon dropped his hand.
Hidden trench pits lined with spikes were revealed.
The enemy cavalry plunged into the death traps.
Screams filled the air as horses fell, men were impaled, and the charge collapsed into chaos.
Leon's forces struck back with full force.
Kael's warriors flanked the enemy, cutting them down with brutal efficiency.
Darius' forces suddenly reversed their retreat, ambushing the disoriented Varantis troops.
General Varos realized too late.
Leon had turned his own aggression against him.
---
The End of the First Battle
As the sun set, the Varantis army was shattered.
Only a few thousand managed to retreat.
Leon stood amidst the bodies, his blade dripping with blood.
Kael approached, shaking his head.
"You fight like a demon, Leon Blackwood."
Leon smirked.
"This was only the beginning."
---
The Aftermath of Victory
Smoke and Silence
The battlefield was eerily quiet, save for the crackling flames of the fallen war banners. The bodies of the dead littered the blood-soaked plains, while the wounded moaned in pain.
Leon stood atop a small ridge, his black cloak billowing in the wind as he surveyed the destruction. His army had won decisively, but he knew this was only the beginning.
Darius strode toward him, his armor stained with blood.
"We've captured nearly 5,000 enemy soldiers. What do you want to do with them?"
Elara approached, her expression unreadable.
"If we release them, they'll return to fight against us. If we kill them, it will only harden Varantis' resolve."
Leon turned to Kael Varion, the warlord who had joined his cause.
"What would you do?"
Kael smirked.
"Make an example of the officers. Break their morale."
Leon's gaze darkened.
"And the soldiers?"
Kael shrugged. "Offer them a choice—join us or die."
Leon's mind raced. If he executed them all, it would fuel hatred against him. But if he let them go, it was a wasted opportunity.
"Bring the prisoners to me."
Minutes later, the defeated Varantis soldiers knelt before him, hands bound, fear in their eyes.
Leon's voice was calm, yet sharp as steel.
"You have one chance. Serve me, or share your commander's fate."
A few resisted.
"We are loyal to Varantis!" one man spat.
Leon nodded. "Loyalty is admirable."
Then, without hesitation, he drew his sword and slit the man's throat.
The remaining soldiers stared in horror.
"Choose wisely," Leon said.
Slowly, one by one, they swore fealty.
Kael chuckled.
"You're more ruthless than I expected, Blackwood."
Leon wiped the blood from his blade.
"Mercy is wasted on those who refuse to submit."
---
A Shadow from the North
As Leon's forces celebrated their victory, a messenger arrived at the war camp.
The man, cloaked in the Imperial colors, dismounted swiftly and knelt before Leon.
"A letter from the Emperor, Your Grace."
Leon took the parchment, breaking the Imperial seal.
His eyes narrowed as he read:
"You march swiftly, Leon. Perhaps too swiftly. Remember who granted you this power, and do not mistake my patience for weakness. Continue your campaign, but know this—if you ever seek the throne, you will find me waiting."
Leon clenched his fist, crumpling the letter.
"So, the Emperor finally sees me as a threat."
Elara frowned. "This could be a warning… or a test."
Kael smirked. "Then let's give him an answer, shall we?"
Leon turned toward the south, where the capital of Varantis awaited.
"We march at dawn."
The war for conquest had only just begun.
---
The March to Varantis
A City on the Brink
The news of Leon's crushing victory spread like wildfire.
Inside the walls of Varantis, panic gripped the nobility. The once-proud city, capital of the southern kingdom, was now facing an invasion unlike any before.
King Roderic Varantis, a man once feared for his cunning, now paced the throne room in frustration.
"Damn that Blackwood!" he spat.
His advisors murmured nervously.
"Leon's army is marching for the capital, Your Majesty," General Alric's second-in-command reported grimly. "The nobles are already considering surrender."
The King slammed his fist against the throne.
"Cowards! We still have 30,000 men in the city! We can hold!"
A voice, smooth and calculating, echoed from the shadows.
"Your Majesty, I suggest… a different approach."
The King turned, his eyes narrowing.
From the darkness stepped Lord Malgrim, the royal spymaster.
"Leon Blackwood is a warrior, but even warriors fall to a blade in the dark."
The King's lips curled into a sinister smile.
"Send the assassins. If we cannot stop his army, we will kill the man leading it."
---
The Shadow Approaches
Two nights later, Leon's army camped near the outskirts of Varantis.
The siege would begin at dawn.
But that night, darkness crept into the camp.
A group of black-clad assassins slipped through the sentries, moving like ghosts. Their leader, a man known only as The Silent Fang, had a single objective—kill Leon Blackwood.
Inside his tent, Leon sat over a map, deep in thought.
Elara stood nearby, her sharp gaze watching him.
"You should rest."
Leon smirked. "Rest? On the eve of conquest?"
But before Elara could reply—a blade flashed from the darkness.
A dagger shot toward Leon's throat.
He moved—just in time.
The steel barely missed, slicing his cheek.
Elara reacted instantly, drawing her sword.
The assassins struck.
Four of them, moving with inhuman speed.
Leon grabbed his sword, parrying the next attack.
Elara engaged another, her blades clashing in a deadly dance.
The Silent Fang lunged again, his poisoned dagger aiming for Leon's heart.
But Leon was faster.
He caught the assassin's wrist, twisted it with brutal force—SNAP.
The man howled in pain.
Leon drove his blade through the assassin's chest.
Elara finished off another with a swift cut to the throat.
The last two assassins tried to retreat—but a massive figure blocked their path.
Darius, awakened by the noise, crushed one with a swing of his axe.
The final assassin fell to Kael's blade as he entered the tent, eyes flashing.
Leon wiped the blood from his face.
"So… Varantis plays dirty."
Elara kicked one of the bodies. "They're getting desperate."
Leon smirked.
"Good. That means they know they've already lost."
He stepped outside the tent, looking toward the city in the distance.
The fires of war were already burning.
"At dawn… we end this."
---
End of Chapter 14.