In the dimly lit war room, General Lance sat beside the head of the long table, his two trusted knights, Edward and Eadgar, looming ominously behind him. The air hung heavy with an oppressive sense of anticipation as if the very atmosphere itself trembled with impending doom. They anxiously awaited the return of the prime minister, who had gone off to deliver the grave news to King Borosik. Time seemed to drag on, each passing second an agonizing drip of dread as if the hands of fate were winding tighter and tighter.
Finally, the door to the war room opens, and the prime minister stumbled into the room, his face drained of all colors, his eyes hollow and haunted. General Lance's frown etched deeper lines across his forehead as he beheld the prime minister's disheveled state, but he forcibly cast aside his concern, determined to focus solely on the looming threat.
"Well?" General Lance demanded, his voice slicing through the thick silence like a chilling blade.
"How did it go? Did our king quiver and quake beneath the crushing weight of this dire news?"
Vortigern tired of his recent encounter with the king, mustered just enough strength to meet the general's gaze, his voice a mere rasp,
"On the contrary, our king seemed... excited by the news."
"general, you of all who served the king should know better."
"His Majesty's mind is much stronger to be affected by the whisper of wars."
Vortigern's mind replayed the grotesque image of a repugnant creature raising between King Borosik's legs when he delivered the message. The mad king was insanely thrilled, and his body reacted to the bloodthirst.
In a moment of uncharacteristic rebellion against his noble upbringing, Vortigern spat defiantly upon the floor, trying to erase the bad taste that was building up in his mouth. He took another tired look at the general
"King Borosik will be arriving soon. Prepare your strategy briefing and ready your troops, for when he issues the command, you shall move without hesitation. And do not dare ask me for guidance. The one you serve is impervious to fear, blind to such matters."
General Lance's frown deepened once again upon hearing Vortigern's bitter words.
"Don't you worry dear Vortigern, I had prepared my winning strategies even before I gave you the news to be delivered to his majesty."
At that moment, King Borosik strode through the imposing doorway, his presence suffocating the room like an ancient, malevolent force, casting an eerie shadow over all who bore witness. Settling himself at the head of the elongated table, his eyes gleamed with an otherworldly intensity, penetrating the souls of those who dared to meet his gaze. General Lance immediately rose to his feet, his heart pounding with a mix of awe and trepidation as he greeted the king. Locking eyes with his general, King Borosik spoke in a low, menacing voice,
"General, I have been briefed by the prime minister on the situation. I want to hear it once more from you, and I demand to know your plans for handling it. Are the troops ready to move immediately?"
General Lance, the kingdom's most renowned warrior, was known for his fearless leadership during the conquest of the seven cities of gold, where he commanded an army of five hundred thousand against the formidable Seraphon, a kingdom to the south of Yosnad. However, even with his impressive achievements, he couldn't escape the overwhelming sense of insignificance that consumed him when standing before the king. His voice trembled slightly, a subtle detail that would have gone unnoticed by most.
"Your majesty, as you are well aware, we have dispatched three teams of scouts to monitor the rivers of Vert and Keil, keeping a vigilant eye out for any irregular activities from the monstrous creatures of Kalib."
He paused, a chilling silence descending upon the room, heavy with dread and anticipation.
"The team closest to the goblin territory has noticed a disturbing trend over the past few months."
"The usual monstrous activities in the goblin's territory have gradually dwindled, and it appears that the creatures are migrating towards the area where Miramaw resides."
"Our scouts have also discovered signs of intense war preparations—metal ores mined, and hardwood brutally felled."
King Borosik fixated his gaze on the general, his eyes filled with sinister anticipation.
"Have there been any conflicts arising from this migration of monsters into Miramaw's territory?"
The king's curiosity piqued, as he wondered how the other monstrous entity, would react to this peculiar invasion of its domain.
The general bowed respectfully before responding, his voice laced with a touch of unease,
"There seems to be none, Sire. However, the number of monsters crossing into Miramaw has been multiplying with each passing day."
"It is as if they can sense some impending danger lurking in the very heart of their lair."
King Borosik's frown deepened as he contemplated the dire situation. He turned his attention back to Lance, his tone demanding,
"And your plans, general?"
With unwavering confidence, Lance replied, his voice steady despite the tremors within,
"Sire, I have dispatched urgent missives to Alfred, who stands sentinel a mere day's journey from the treacherous river."
"The first commander has been working closely with the scout teams to gather more information on the situation and accompanying him are five thousand formidable elite warriors" "Honed and equipped to vanquish not only the wretched goblins that dare to cross their path but also any fearsome monsters that may lurk in their midst."
The mere mention of Alfred's name sent a chilling ripple of dread through all who heard it, for he was the revered first knight commander among the twelve knights under General Lance. With an ironclad resolve and an indomitable spirit, he had sought to conquer all that stood in his way. Whispers of his harrowing encounters with fire-breathing dragons spread like wildfire, passed from quivering lips in hushed, terror-filled tones. Tales of Alfred staring death in the face countless times, emerging victorious, cast an ominous shadow over his foes, haunting the kingdom's legends.
The prime minister cast a wary glance at the general and spoke,
"Are there not also reports of white ogres descending from the mountain, general? You need to present his majesty with the full picture." "The knight commander should intercept these monstrous creatures instead of idling by the river. Allowing the forces of goblins and ogres to merge would spell disaster."
"In addition, Your Majesty," General Lance added, ignoring the prime minister, "Alfred has personally led a hundred elites from his five thousand to block off the white ogres."
"And as for the goblin king, I have prepared Edward and Eadgar to march at your command."
A ghastly smile, etched with twisted delight, slithered across his face. Edward and Eadgar, the twins whose very existence seemed steeped in animosity, were renowned for their unholy mastery of the art of warfare. Both men bowed to King Borosik, their movements imbued with eerie grace as if they were shadows come to life in service of their maleficent king.
Ever since King Borosik ascended the throne, battles both monumental and minuscule had been fought, and not once had he tasted the sting of defeat under the command of Edward or Eadgar. A sense of foreboding loomed around them like an aura, their presence evoking bone-chilling terror that paralyzed the hearts of their enemies.
The king looked at his general and then at his prime minister. He had already considered his options before entering the war room. If the general had not mentioned Alfred, Edward, and Eadgar, he would have asked for them himself. It seemed that the general had anticipated this move. King Borosik then commanded,
"I will allow it, general." "What you have planned is close to what I have in mind."
"Hereby I order Edward to lead twenty thousand souls to the River of Vert, set up camp, and block off the goblin armies from crossing the river." Pausing, the king looked at Eadgar and continued,
"Eadgar will take the other twenty thousand and secure the perimeter and make sure no monsters be it goblins, or ogres will come within three kilometers from the walls of this castle."
Edward and Eadgar both received their orders, their pride swelling within them. They acknowledged their allegiance to the king with a salute, knowing the power they wielded in his name.
"Glory to Yosnad!" "Victory to our king!"
Both knights shouted in unison, their voices laced with the weight of their terrifying reputation. Their loyalty to King Borosik was unwavering, and their presence on the battlefield struck fear into the hearts of their enemies.
The king raised his hand, acknowledging the twins' unwavering allegiance to the kingdom.
"Regarding Alfred," he declared, his voice filled with authority,
"I will also concur with Vortigern's counsel. Swiftly mobilize Alfred to intercept the white ogres, ensuring their demise before they reach the river."
King Borosik added, "The witch seeks new materials, general. The hide of the white ogres might ignite her fascination."
General Lance grimace at the mention of the witch, it was well known that the witch of Clovershire has been searching for materials in her quest to develop new spells. Some of the materials are easy to obtain but most are so rare that it takes many sacrifices to fulfill her request.
"I have taken note, Sire, my soldiers will deliver the white ogres hide when we have them."
King Borosik nods at the commitment from his general, he has purposefully omitted any mention of the shadow assassin he had clandestinely dispatched to infiltrate and assassinate the goblin king. Although King Borosik may have been a crazy king, he remained acutely aware of the perils that awaited those who unveiled all their cards to the world. His mind, a labyrinth of malevolence, understood the power of fear, dread, and terror, and he wielded these forces like a master puppeteer.
With that, King Borosik waves his hand again, ending the update from his subjects.
"Go now and deliver the good news to me".
General Lance acknowledged the orders from the king, stood up from the long table, gave his salute, and left the war room with both of his knights to prepare for the upcoming war.
In the depths of the twisted river cavern, the dark magician slowly rose from his prone position. His body remained weak, and the magical energy he had devoured from the troll and goblin troops failed to satisfy his hunger. Having recently awakened from a deep slumber, memories of the day he was slain surged within him, yet he couldn't recall the name of the man responsible.