The Alanorian army moved in disciplined formation, a force of 8,870 soldiers led by 22 powerful mages, including King Thorian himself. Among the mages were 6 from Alanor, 7 from Pita, and 9 from Reaal. The soldiers were organized into specialized units: 4,000 armored infantry for defense, 1,000 cavalry ready to charge, 370 knights with the skills to turn the tide of battle, 2,000 spearmen prepared to face any onslaught, and 1,500 light infantry equipped with bows, their eyes scanning the horizon for threats.
The army advanced towards Fort Blueheaven, a strategic location they believed would be heavily guarded. The air was thick with anticipation, each step bringing them closer to what they expected to be a fierce confrontation.
As they approached Fort Bluehaven, the soldiers tightened their grips on their weapons, readying themselves for battle. But when they arrived, what they found was not a fortified stronghold brimming with enemy soldiers but an eerily silent fortress. The gates were open, and no signs of defense were visible. Only civilians, frightened and confused, remained within the walls.
Alanor's forces swiftly took control of the fort, but the ease of their victory was unsettling. It was as if the enemy had simply vanished. The shock of the empty fort reverberated through the ranks.
Samuel, "Looks like they have concentrated all their forces on the excavation site."
King Thorian nodded, still wary of the potential trap, he ordered his men to abandon the fort and redirect all efforts toward their true objective: securing Ashvathaa.
Loras, as one of the captains who returned with the information was promoted to command a 200-man advance party, and he led through the dense forest towards the excavation site at Ashvathaa. The forest was thick with undergrowth, the towering trees casting long shadows that made every step feel precarious.
As they closed in on Ashvathaa, a sudden barrage of arrows rained down from the treetops. "Shields!" Loras commanded, his voice cutting through the chaos. The soldiers quickly raised their shields, forming a protective barrier, but the ambush had taken them by surprise.
"Retreat!" Loras ordered, his tone sharp with urgency. The advance party began to fall back, carefully navigating the treacherous forest terrain. A few soldiers fell, their armor unable to deflect the arrows entirely, and others were wounded, but they managed to escape the deadly ambush.
The retreating party regrouped at a safe distance from the forest's edge, the injured tended to by medics. King Thorian rode up to the front lines, his face a mask of concern.
"How far are we from Ashvathaa?" Thorian asked, his gaze shifting to Lord Arlyn, who signaled his knight, Loras, to respond.
"Five hundred meters to the northwest, Your Majesty," Loras replied, his voice steady despite the close call.
Thorian nodded and then signaled Samuel, who dismounted from his horse and knelt to the ground. Closing his eyes, he spread his hands over the earth, his fingers twitching as he connected with the latent energies beneath the surface.
Grand Duke Sebastian joined Samuel, his voice low as he spoke. "I can feel them... the trees are crawling with life. At least one archer in every tree."
Samuel's eyes snapped open, and he rose to his feet. "More than 34,000, from what I can count, Your Highness. They're waiting for us."
Princess Maria, her eyes gleaming with fierce determination, approached the group. "Why debate over this?" she said, her voice ringing with confidence. "Let's burn the entire forest. We can rid ourselves of these ambushers in one sweep."
Thorian frowned, his mind racing with the potential consequences. "And how do we stop a fire that large once it starts?"
Maria smirked, gesturing to a old woman at her side. "Lady Anabella here is a skilled water mage. With some support, she can extinguish the flames once they've served their purpose."
The group fell silent, considering the proposal. It was a risky move, one that could backfire if not executed perfectly. But the alternative, engaging a hidden enemy in dense forest terrain, was equally perilous.
After a heated debate, the plan was set. The mages gathered in a wide circle, their hands raised towards the sky. Seventeen mages focused their energies, channeling their magic into a single point above the treetops. Slowly, the air crackled with power as a massive fireball began to form, growing larger and more intense with each passing second. The sky darkened as the flames coalesced, casting an ominous glow over the battlefield.