Cliffland did not ease into war. It snapped into it. One moment, the courtyard rang with the steady rhythm of training blades, the sharp breaths of young warriors pushing past their limits. The next, everything shifted. Orders cut through the air. Bows were restrung. Armor was dragged out from storage, still smelling of oil and old battles. The sound changed. Less discipline, more urgency. Less practice, more preparation.
Drexo stood at the edge of it all, watching. Not moving. Not speaking. Just watching.
A group of maiden warriors rushed past him, carrying bundles of spears. Another dragged a crate of arrows across the ground, the wood scraping hard against stone. Someone shouted for more shields. Another voice called for fire oil. Everything felt like it was moving too fast, like the world had skipped a step and left him behind.
"I do not even know how to fight here," he said finally, his voice low, almost swallowed by the noise around him. "How do I lead an army against seasoned warriors?"
No one answered him at first. Then Cedric stepped closer. He did not rush. He did not try to interrupt the chaos. He simply moved until he was beside Drexo, his presence steady in a way the rest of the world was not.
"I know," Cedric said quietly. Drexo turned to him, brows drawn together. There was something raw in his eyes. Something close to anger, but not quite.
"I know you never expected a day would come when you would have to fight without your dragon."
Drexo held his gaze for a second. Then he looked away. A tight nod. Cedric leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice even more, like he did not want the others to hear.
"But listen to me," he said. "Not all rulers are warriors." Drexo let out a short breath, almost a laugh, but there was no humor in it.
"Some win wars with their brain," Cedric continued, tapping his temple lightly, "without lifting a sword."
Drexo did not respond immediately. His eyes drifted back to the courtyard. To the warriors. To the noise. To the movement that refused to slow down.
"Then I hope my brain is enough," he muttered.
Cedric did not answer that. Maybe because he did not know. Or maybe because there was no comforting answer to give.
The training grounds had changed. Not empty. Not quiet. Just different.
The laughter that once slipped between movements was gone. The playful taunts, the small rivalries, the moments where someone would miss a strike and laugh it off were all gone.
Now, everything felt heavier. The maiden warriors moved with purpose, but their faces gave them away.
Claudia tightened the strap on her arm guard, her fingers pausing for a moment before pulling it firm. Her jaw clenched slightly.
"We are about to fight those we have called families," she said, her voice not loud, but it carried. "We will stand against our own brothers in battle."
No one interrupted her. Because there was nothing to interrupt.
Rita let out a soft laugh. It sounded wrong in the air. Too light for what they were talking about. "I guess it is a blessing to be an orphan after all."
A few heads turned toward her. Not in anger. Just something else.
Something that sat between understanding and discomfort. Suzan's grip tightened around the hilt of her blade. Her knuckles went pale.
"I never saw this day coming," she said, her voice rougher than usual. "But here we are." She looked down at the blade.
"For us, it is simple," she added after a moment. "We either slaughter our fathers and brothers or we are slaughtered by them."
Silence followed. Not the peaceful kind. The kind that presses down on your chest. No one argued. No one tried to soften it. Because they all knew she was right.
The war room felt smaller than it was. Too many bodies. Too many thoughts. Too much tension pressing into the walls.
Generals stood around the table. Unit leaders filled the spaces behind them. The map of Cliffland lay stretched across the center, weighed down at the corners so it would not curl.
Fabio stood at the head of it. His hands rested on the table, fingers spread slightly, like he was grounding himself before speaking.
"We have sea warriors," he began, his voice firm. "They will be our first point of contact."
Heads nodded. This was expected. This was familiar.
He moved one hand across the map, splitting an imaginary line through the waters surrounding the island.
"We will divide them into two halves," he continued. "We will allow them to sail toward us, attacking from the front." His finger shifted. "while the others attack from the back."
A pause.
Just long enough for the image to settle in everyone's mind. "By the time they defeat the sea men," Fabio finished, straightening slightly, "we will be able to match their strength in land battle."
A murmur of approval moved through the room. It made sense. It sounded clean. It sounded like control.
Maria did not nod. She did not speak immediately either. She just watched the map. Then, quietly, "You will be sacrificing the sea warriors."
The words did not come out sharp. But they landed that way. Fabio did not look surprised. He nodded once.
"To win a difficult war," he said, "some lives sometimes need to be sacrificed."
Maria's fingers moved slightly, pointing at the map.."You are about to face an army with Northern soldiers."
Theon let out a short breath, something between a scoff and a sigh.."Yes," he said. "We are quite aware of that. You need not remind us of the obvious."
Maria did not even look at him. She continued like he had not spoken. "The Northerners are majorly Norsemen," she said. "Men who live most of their lives in the river."
That made Fabio look up. Not fully convinced. But listening. "That is not a hidden fact," he said slowly. "What are you driving at?"
Maria lifted her gaze then. "They understand the sea," she said. "And sea battle more than your sea warriors."
The room shifted. It was subtle. But it was there. Fabio's jaw tightened. "My sea warriors are the best in all of Astarous," he said, his voice rising just enough to carry a warning. "You can not insult them in that manner."
Maria shook her head once. "This is not to insult them," she said. "This is to save their lives."
That did not help..If anything, it made it worse. "What do you know about war?" Fabio snapped, the patience gone now. "I have been fighting war for over fifty years. You are not even eighteen yet."
The air thickened. Voices began to stir. Not loud. But enough to feel like something was about to break.
Then, a loud crack. Drexo's hand slammed against the table. The sound cut through everything.
Silence followed immediately. "We should all calm down," he said. His voice was not loud. But it held. He turned his head slightly, looking at Maria.
"My lady," he said, more controlled now. "Do you have a better plan?"
Maria held his gaze for a moment. Then she nodded. "Yes, Your Grace."
A pause.
Just a breath. "Then share it with us," Drexo said.
Maria's fingers returned to the map. "I will suggest we do away with sea defence," she said.
The reaction was instant. Confusion. Disbelief. A few quiet laughs that died as quickly as they came.
"All warriors should be on the land." Now they were staring at her. Not hiding it. Not softening it.
Just staring. Even Drexo. But Maria did not stop. "We are on an Island," she said. "That alone is more advantageous than a million soldiers."
Havana lifted her head slightly. "What do you mean?"
Maria met her gaze without hesitation. "That means," she said, "we will be comfortable defending from the land."
Havana studied her for a second. "How many days can we hold?"
Maria smiled. Not wide. Not mocking. Just certain. "I do not think this battle will last a day," she said. "Within twelve hours, we should have been able to crush them."
That did it..The room stirred again. Not loud. But restless. The kind of movement that comes when people do not know whether to believe what they are hearing.
They looked at her like she was speaking madness. And maybe, for a second, even Drexo thought the same.
But Maria continued. "We will set sea traps," she said, her finger tracing the coastline. "Spears, woods, every sharp object we can find."
Her hand moved again. "And we will attack with fire."
Drexo frowned slightly. "How do you burn an army that is on the sea?"
Maria looked up at him. And this time, her smile was different. There was something in it. Something quiet. Something dangerous. "Black water," she said.