The towering walls of Horace cast cold shadows in the fading hues of sunset. King Edmond's company trudged through the gates from the blood-soaked battlefield, their steps heavy, their morale shattered. Behind them, the army was a shadow of its former self—disorganized, weary, and bearing the scars of bitter defeat. The once-proud banner of Eldenia hung in tatters, lifelessly draped over its pole, a forlorn relic of a kingdom's fall.
King Eldemeyer of Horace personally led his guard to meet them, his gait steady but his gaze heavy with unspoken thoughts. He surveyed the battered soldiers, their wounds both physical and emotional. His eyes lingered on Edmond, standing at the forefront. The King of Eldenia's eyes were hollow, his face weathered and smeared with blood and grime. His arms hung limply at his sides, as if the strength to even grasp a weapon had abandoned him.
Eldemeyer approached Edmond and stopped before him, preparing to speak. But Edmond cast his gaze downward, unable to meet his host's eyes. Instead, his attention drifted back to the soldiers trailing behind him—the warriors of Eldenia and the scattered remnants of the allied forces. Their forms, distorted by the flickering torchlight, seemed like broken shadows of their former selves.
"Eldenia is no more," Edmond muttered, his voice hoarse and low, barely audible yet heavy with despair. It was both a declaration and a resignation. He shut his eyes tightly, drawing a shuddering breath, as though trying to suppress the tidal wave of emotions threatening to engulf him. Yet, a single tear slipped from the corner of his eye.
Eldemeyer's throat tightened. He took a firm step forward and grasped Edmond by the shoulder, his grip almost bruising, as if trying to shake the despondency out of him. "Listen to me. Eldenia has already given everything as the pillar of this alliance. But you, King Edmond—you are the pillar of this alliance! If you fall, then yes, this war is truly over." His voice was unyielding, his gaze steely. "You must stand tall, not just for your people, but for everyone who still fights!"
Edmond remained silent, his weary eyes drifting back to his soldiers. He saw the despair in their gazes, mirrored his own. Deep down, he knew Eldemeyer was right, yet he struggled to escape the suffocating shadow of ruin.
At that moment, the thunder of galloping hooves echoed from the mountain pass. Kragg's banner flew high against the darkening sky as his hundred-strong contingent arrived, their faces etched with determination despite the treacherous journey. Upon learning of Eldenia's downfall, King Kragg had wasted no time in rallying his forces to Horace's aid.
Kragg dismounted in a single fluid motion, his commanding presence drawing attention. His eyes swept over the beleaguered soldiers and the despondent figure of Edmond, sorrow flickering across his face before being replaced with unyielding resolve.
"The blood of Eldenia will not be shed in vain!" he proclaimed, his voice carrying over the weary crowd. "We are not defeated. The alliance stands! And as long as it does, the fight is far from over!"
Even so, the soldiers remained somber, their spirits crushed under the weight of their losses. Then, Arthur stepped forward. Draped in his silver cloak that glinted faintly in the dim light, the warrior from Airtulan raised a hand, calling for silence.
"Listen to me, all of you," he began, his voice resonant and commanding. "Eldenia has sacrificed more than any of us could ever imagine. But this is not the end. Here, in Horace, we have a chance to regroup. We still have allies—Airtulan's forces will join us soon. But when they arrive, what will they see? A broken army, or warriors ready to fight?"
Arthur's gaze swept the assembled men, piercing through their despair. "Strongson may outnumber us, but their numbers mean nothing if we hold onto our resolve. This is not the moment of defeat. It is the moment we rise. As long as we fight, as long as we believe in victory, we can change the course of this war!"
His words were like sparks, igniting embers in the hearts of those present. The soldiers, though weary, began to straighten their backs. They remembered Arthur's leadership in past battles, how he had led them time and again to repel overwhelming forces. The fire in his eyes seemed to kindle something deep within them—a flicker of hope amidst the gloom.
Eldemeyer drew a deep breath, then turned to his men. "Take King Edmond to rest," he commanded. "As of now, Arthur is in charge of this army. Prepare for the next battle. We cannot falter now."
Arthur nodded, his expression resolute as he watched Edmond being led away. He knew that what lay ahead was more than a battle—it was a fight to reignite hope. On this fractured land, they would find a way to stand once more, for all those who still dared to believe in victory.