The vast plains at Avalonia's edges were covered in long shadows as the sun had just started to set. The smell of rain was gathering, and the unease of an impending fight was in the air. The wind was restless. Vincent was perched on the eastern ramparts of Amsberg Castle, staring far beyond the fields that would shortly be invaded by Arlen Stormrider's army.
The tempest was approaching.
A chilly smile curved Vincent's lips. He had been preparing for this moment for years. The setup was complete, the traps were in place, and soon the first of many protagonists would attempt in vain to seize a throne that was not rightfully his.
Vincent heard the system's voice in his head, a quiet murmur bearing the weight of destiny behind it.
"The conflict is getting closer. Arlen now has more power. His righteousness has strengthened his forces. But keep in mind that fate is a tool, Vincent. Adjust it to suit your needs."
Vincent grinned more broadly. Arlen might benefit from fate, but that's the thing about fate—it can be erratic. easily controlled. Turning away from the battlements, his long coat swirling behind him like the shadow of an approaching storm, his eyes glistened with the fire of ambition. Making his way back down the narrow stairs into the castle, he could already see the plans he needed to win.
His most trusted advisors were waiting for him in the war room. Arms folded, Reinhardt Blackthorne stood like a tower of strength, reminding everyone of the raw power that Amsberg possessed. With barely controlled excitement, Elise Ravenshade leaned against the distant wall, her golden eyes glowing. Ever the mystic, Selene Nightveil continued to lurk in the shadows, her sinister magic gently whirling around her.
Reinhardt rumbled, "We're ready, Your Highness," as Vincent came in. The spies have returned with reports, and our forces are positioned along the border. The army of Arlen is advancing. By dawn, they will arrive at our gates.
Vincent said, "Let him come," as he walked over to the big table in the middle of the space. It was covered in a thorough map of Avalonia, showing the locations of all the main armies, strongholds, and outposts. He moved his fingers over the frontiers where Arlen's army was making progress. Give him the impression that he is in control. He will fall harder the longer he thinks that.
Elise grinned, amusement flickering in her eyes. "When do we attack?"
"Not just yet," Vincent answered. We first show him what he anticipates, which is an overpowered foe and a weak stronghold. Arlen is oblivious to the nuances of combat due to his idealism. He anticipates a level contest. Vincent became stern-eyed. "But we'll give him anything else instead of that
With a gentle whisper that sounded almost like a caress, Selene moved forward. What about his army, then? Although the common soldiers are loyal to him, loyalty is a brittle bond. They only require the tiniest shred of uncertainty.
Vincent gave a nod. Which brings you into play, Selene. You'll craft your delusions and reveal to them the lurking dangers they fear. Make them doubt everything they do, everything they are told. Though his ranks will already be collapsing beneath him, Arlen will believe he is leading an unstoppable force.
Selene gave a small smile to her lips. "However you direct, Your Highness. All I want them to see is what they will see.
Reinhardt moaned, a foreboding tone in his voice. "And we crush them when the time comes.
Vincent leaned over the map and traced the route Arlen's army would follow with his fingers. "You will lead the main force, Reinhardt. Hold the line at the border and give the impression that we are having difficulty. I'll give the signal when Arlen's forces advance.
Reinhardt had bright eyes. "And after that?"
Vincent stated, "Then we break them," in a decisive manner. "We attack as soon as Arlen's army is divided and secluded. quick, ruthless, and decisive. All that will remain for Arlen is ashes.
Elise's smile widened. "And the great champion will succumb."
Vincent had a calculating, cold gaze. "He will fall, but not before enduring pain." Arlen thinks he's destined for greatness, but I'll prove to him that fate is only a tool available to those who are willing to use
As the weight of Vincent's words descended upon the room, the firelight flickered across their faces, creating lengthy shadows.
A scout with a pale face and laboring breathing suddenly burst through the doors. "Very Esteemed! The army of Arlen has been spotted! They're going more quickly than we thought!
Vincent stood up straight, his face unreadable. Reinhardt gave him a quick glance and clenched his knuckles in anticipation.
Vincent stated coolly, "Good." "Permit them to enter."
Arlen Stormrider was leading his army as the first rays of dawn appeared on the horizon. In the early light, his armor shone brilliantly, with the Stormrider family's emblem prominently displayed on his chest. Thousands of soldiers marched in formation behind him, their banners billowing in the breeze.
Arlen felt a fresh sense of purpose when he saw the Amsberg fortress in the distance. His entire life had been devoted to preparing for this moment—leading the resistance against Vincent von Amsberg's tyranny, Arlen had promised to be the one to put an end to the rumors that had been circulating throughout Avalonia about Vincent's cruelty, deceit, and ambition.
With a steady voice, Arlen called out, "Sir Gareth." "Are the guys prepared?"
The elderly knight nodded, ever faithful. Yes, my lord, they are. However, there's something unnerving about this location. The atmosphere seems heavy with—
"Skepticism?" Arlen cut him off with a headshake. Vincent wants us to experience that. We won't be duped by his use of fear and deceit. We have justice on our side.
Though he didn't dispute, Gareth's unease persisted in his eyes. "My lord, as you say."
Arlen returned his attention to the stronghold. "We are about to march. Regarding Avalonia. For the populace.
When the order was given, the army advanced with great force.
Vincent was inside Amsberg Castle, watching Arlen's forces approach from the top of the tall tower. The low murmur of expectation, the clatter of armor, and the faint sound of marching boots were all carried by the wind.
He grinned—a measured, slow smile.
He whispered, "They're here." "And thus it starts."
Stepping forward, Selene's eyes gleamed in the low light. "Should I start now?"
Vincent gave one nod. Indeed. Start the games now.
Selene's eyes went dark, and a gloomy fog started to encircle her. The atmosphere seemed to be bending to her will as the air became heavier. Outside, confusion set in and the initial waves of Arlen's soldiers started to waver. Their once-confident strides became slower.
With a steady heartbeat and a sharp mind, Vincent observed. The storm was coming, but he would decide where it made landfall.
The conflict over Avalonia had started.