The courtyard churned with the noise of a marching army. Iron clattered against iron as High Mage Kelvin and Second Vice Commander Elara led the vanguard out through the heavy gates, turning their massive infantry column toward the frozen north. Shortly after, General Ulric Stone rode out at the head of a thundering line of heavy cavalry and crossbowmen.
Lord Kent stood on the battlements, the wind tearing at his cloak as he watched them go. Before the march, he had pulled Ulric aside. Hold the walls, Ulric, Kent had told him. I'm keeping Lieutenant Graves here. If the traitor moves while we're gone, I need someone I trust commanding the defense.
Maltida stood beside Kent, watching the banners disappear over the ridge.
Down on the northern road, Kelvin rode beside Elara, spending the first few miles breaking down the sheer physics of the high-speed clash Maltida and Ulric had shared in the war room. Elara listened in awed silence. He was leagues away from that kind of power.
Catching the boy's wide-eyed expression, Kelvin let out a warm, rumbling laugh. "Breathe, Elara. You will reach that height in time. Lord Kent and I both see it in you."
Elara nodded, his knuckles white around his reins. He wouldn't let them down.
Back inside the keep, Kent was strapping into his plate armor for the ride to the Tower of Books when the heavy oak door swung open. Maltida strode in. The elegant gown was gone, replaced once again by the gleaming silver of her Paladin armor.
"Elves, Dwarves, Greenskins, and a dagger in our own backs," Maltida said, her voice hard. "A true four-way war, Percival. The messenger eagles will reach the other Phoenix Knights soon, but we need to brace for the worst."
Kent hauled his broadsword over his shoulder, securing the heavy scabbard. "Someone wants to bleed the kingdom dry and rule the ashes. I don't have a name yet, but I will tear the court apart until I find it." He paused, taking in her armor. "Riding out?"
"My personal retinue is waiting," she said. "I'm taking my cavalry from Oakhaven and heading for the border. The Greenskin horde won't get a chance to regroup."
"Safe travels, Maltida. I will see you in the Capital in nine days."
"Please." Maltida smirked, resting a gauntleted hand on her hilt. "I don't need luck to perform."
With a swish of her cape, the Paladin turned and left the castle.
Miles away in the mud-churned square of Oakhaven, the Paladin cavalry was already mounting up. One of the riders trotted his warhorse over to the clinic porch, looking down at two wounded soldiers sitting on the steps. "Sergeant Vane. Captain Krag. Lady Maltida rides for the border and requires our lances."
Krag pushed himself up with his good arm, offering a stiff salute. "We're healed enough to hold the village with the Commander's garrison. Give them hell."
As the heavy cavalry thundered out of the village, Vane let out a long breath, looking at the suddenly empty, quiet square. "So... it's just us, the local garrison, and four mages."
"Pretty much," Krag grunted. "But we've got ninety good cavalrymen left. What's the worst that could happen? Hah!"
Vane slowly turned his head, leveling a flat, terrified glare at the Captain. "You said that exact same thing right before we marched out to check on those missing river caravans."
Krag's confident grin melted into a grimace. He let out a nervous chuckle, his eyes darting toward the dark, quiet treeline.
Far away, in a sun-drenched valley, a messenger eagle dropped from the clouds.
It landed squarely on the armored shoulder of William Wins. Tall, powerfully built, and framed by brilliant blonde hair that caught the sunlight, the Phoenix Knight was a picture of pristine heroism. In his right hand, he loosely gripped a massive spear that pulsed with a warm, golden light.
Currently, the most skilled spearman alive was standing in the center of a slaughtered pasture, entirely surrounded by three thirty-foot wyverns. Acid dripped from their scaled jaws as they circled him.
William didn't even look at them. He casually popped the wax seal on the eagle's tube with his thumb and unrolled the parchment.
The wyverns shrieked, closing in.
Looks like it's time for war, William thought, recognizing Kent's sharp handwriting.
The first wyvern lunged, its jaws snapping at his legs. Without looking up from the letter, William vaulted twenty feet into the air. He spun on his heel, driving his glowing spear downward and pinning the beast's skull to the earth with a deafening crack. He landed gracefully on the dead wyvern's back, still reading.
The second beast roared, charging from the left with its throat glowing a toxic green. William sighed. Without breaking his focus on the parchment, he drew a short sword from his hip, channeled his golden mana into the steel, and swung. A crescent wave of pure energy detached from the blade, shearing cleanly through the wyvern's thick neck. Its massive head hit the dirt with a wet thud.
The final wyvern stopped dead. Seeing its pack butchered in seconds by a man who was mostly annoyed by his mail, the monster panicked. It scrambled backward, desperately trying to launch itself up the sheer rocky cliff face to escape.
William finally lowered the letter. He ripped his spear free from the first wyvern's skull, surged a blinding flash of light into the shaft, and hurled it.
The weapon broke the sound barrier. It took the fleeing beast mid-flight, punching straight through armored scales and heart alike, violently pinning the thirty-foot monster to the rock wall seventy feet in the air.
William dusted off his gauntlets and glanced over his shoulder. "Kars? Go get that spear."
A man stepped out from behind a large, safe boulder, crossing his arms. "You made a total mess, William! And it's pinned seventy feet up a sheer cliff face! You should have just let me handle it."
"I apologize," William said, flashing a dazzling, perfect smile. "Please, go get it for me?"
Kars squinted up at the bleeding dragon bolted to the rock. "I guess I'll think about it."
"What?!" William gasped, his perfect smile dropping into exaggerated shock.