On the generals' side, however, innumerable cuts disfigure Zarok's deadly hide but then knit together, almost at once, as if to ridicule the effort. Both generals are heaving, with sweat running down like rivers along their cheeks: "There is no end to this," General Orion muttered, mopping his brow with his right thumb.
General Darius extended his hand, his fingers clamping around his spear securely. "I think I have one," he grated, half-turning to the second general.
General Orion nodded slowly, and a glitter of determination flashed in his eyes. "Why not strike together and make an opening? I'll make the first strike with my aura the next time an opening is provided, and you finish him off without giving him any chance to recover."
Spear readjusted in his grip, General Darius hunched forward and jabbed-the jabs calculated and continuous, keeping his distance yet striking toward weak points with the strike of a venomous snake. But Zarok would not be contained. Every thrust was met, the flat of his axe clanging as he parried, stepping closer with a malevolent glint in his eyes.
Zarok lifted his right axe on high in a gesture that was almost like a storm gathering to strike General Darius. But General Orion burst forth, silent as a shadow, in a strike from behind that disrupted the attention of Zarok. Zarok's axes whirled sideways, spinning with fatal momentum, and the resulting gust forced both generals to retreat like leaves in a tempest.
General Darius, with his spear spun and his voice low and resolute. "Ice Aura: Cold Snap Aura." he shouted, and a small mana circle appeared behind his spear as the tip started frosting over, like the cold breath of winter itself had condensed on its surface. It pierced into Zarok's chest, skin breaking as ice crept along his flesh; Zarok grunted, trying to pull the spear out, as General Orion grasped the opportunity.
"Ice Aura: Ice Spear Barrage," he invoked, saying which a small mana circle appeared behind his spear, and from within it called a swarm of ice spears that flew through the air, slicing down upon Zarok's back. The final strike cleaved his head, and Zarok's body crashed heavily to the ground, his head rolling away. The generals went backward, weighed by exhaustion as by a shroud.
Five days later, in the conference room of the Kaldris Kingdom palace sat Generals Orion and Darius, hands clasped in silent patience, awaiting an address from their new monarch.
A sudden knock echoed, the sound breaking the silence: "Knock, knock, knock." The door creaked open, and Drake walked into the room; his eyes traced the bitter tension that hung between the generals. He approached them cautiously.
"May I ask whether she has appeared since she arrived back in the palace?" he asked. General Darius took a deep breath as his eyes strayed off for a second. "No, but perhaps you should check on her; she's in his majesty's chamber," he replied.
Just then, the door creaked open again, and in came Isabella with quiet grace. "No need to worry; I'm here," Isabella said softly. "Thank you all for the condolences and support to the last," she said, locking eyes with the two generals'. "If at all possible, I would really appreciate it if you can continue supporting the kingdom to your last breath."
The two generals knelt down, right hand over their heart, their faces set into a mask of loyalty. "Kaldris is our home, where our stories find purpose. We will protect what gives meaning to our lives until our last breath. Just give us your command," they said in unison. Isabella stepped forward; her hand was laid delicately on their shoulders. "You may both rise," she invited warmly.
The generals rose, slightly bowing. "Thank you for your trust; we will make sure that our service befits your expectations," they said over their shoulders, backing away in a more solemn fashion. "All right, you two can go. I need to speak with Drake in private." Isabella nodded to dismiss them, and they turned tail, giving her a quick salute once more.
Once they were alone, Isabella turned to Drake and released a soft sigh. "Forgive me for causing you worry," she murmured.
She dug into her attire, bringing out a scroll and a small badge, extending them to him. "It would appear we cannot keep you here any longer. Please, take these."
Drake raised an eyebrow, curiosity alight in his gaze. "What are these for?" he asked.
Isabella crossed her arms and paced slowly around the room. "When you reach Greenland in the Central Plan, look for someone called Maximus at the Phantom Mercenary Office and give this scroll to him." She walked back towards him, her eyes straight and level. "And that badge-you can have." Drake tried to give it back. "I already have one; I don't need another badge."
Isabella jammed the badge hard back into his hand. "Just keep it; it may serve another purpose someday. It's useless to me now since I won't be attending. Give it to someone worthy if you choose." She moved to the door, her tone softening.
"You should prepare to leave, and I won't be seeing you off." Drake's gaze followed her, intrigued by the enigma in her words as she disappeared through the door.
A half an hour later, outside the main gate of the Kaldris Kingdom, Drake readied to set off when a man leading a shaggy horse approached him. "You must be Mr. Alexander Drake," he said with a nod.
The tension spread across Drake's face, and the sigh was pent inside. "Sorry for the late introduction, but my name is Kendrick, the informant of the former king. Her Majesty sent me to give this horse to you." Kendrick said and led the horse gently to Drake.
"Please pass my thanks along," Drake said with a nod. "I appreciate the gift." He mounted the horse as Kendrick held it steady. "This is my fifth time on horseback since taking riding lessons at the stables back on Earth." Guiding the horse forward, he rode out through the main gate, the walls of Kaldris falling behind him
as he continued onward.