The fires of battle had barely cooled when Alexander met with his commanders in the war room. The siege of Ironridge was over, but the scars it left behind would not fade easily.
Outside, the sounds of rebuilding filled the air—hammers striking wood, men hauling debris, voices shouting orders to restore what had been lost. The town still stood, but barely.
Alexander studied the map laid out before him, his gaze sharp and unreadable. Ironridge had survived, but survival was not enough. They had to rebuild, fortify, and prepare—because this war wasn't over.
Elias stood with arms crossed, his body tense, as if ready to march right back into battle.
"We should strike now," he said, his voice edged with impatience. "Vale is on the back foot. If we take the fight to him, he won't have time to recover."
A murmur of agreement spread through the room. The warriors, still riding the high of victory, wanted blood.
Tyrell, however, remained quiet, his eyes thoughtful.
Alexander met Elias' gaze. "And then what?"
Elias frowned. "We finish him before he can attack again."
Alexander sighed. "And what do you think happens after that?"
Silas leaned forward, his expression grim.
"The Kingdom intervenes."
The room fell silent.
Why Alexander Can't Attack Vale
Despite their victory, The Maxwell Dominion was not ready for an open war with the Kingdom.
Silas rested his elbows on the table, his voice calm but firm.
"Vale isn't just some rogue lord. He's a merchant-backed noble, tied into the Kingdom's economy. If we move against him directly, the Kingdom won't ignore it."
Marcus, still bandaged from battle, nodded.
"And even if we crush Vale, what then? The King won't let an independent power rise in the frontier. We'd be giving them an excuse to march against us."
Alexander exhaled, leaning back in his chair. That was the truth.
They had won because Vale had been the aggressor.
If they attacked first, they would become the threat.
Elias' expression darkened. "So we just let him recover?"
Alexander shook his head. "No. We weaken him through other means—trade, expansion, alliances. We take away his power without swinging a sword."
Not through direct conquest.
Not yet.
The True Reason They Won – The Power of Tenebrium
As the discussion continued, Gareth, the blacksmith master, finally spoke.
"You all realize why we actually won, don't you?"
Elias frowned. "Because we fought harder?"
Gareth scoffed, shaking his head.
"No. Because of the black metal. Tenebrium."
The room grew silent.
"Our warriors had better weapons and stronger armor," Gareth continued. "That metal isn't just tougher—it's lighter. The enemy's blades shattered against it. And their own armor? Worthless when struck by a Tenebrium weapon."
Tyrell nodded. "The mercenaries panicked when they realized their swords weren't cutting deep enough. And the fear… once word spread about the 'cursed black steel,' their morale broke faster than expected."
Alexander listened carefully. This war had not just been won through tactics—it had been won through technology.
Silas crossed his arms. "Which means if Vale gets his hands on something similar, our advantage disappears."
Alexander's jaw tightened.
Tenebrium had been their secret weapon.
But how long would it stay that way?
They needed to secure their mines. And they needed more metal.
The Kingdom's War – The Next Threat
As if on cue, a scout entered the chamber, his armor still covered in dust from a hard ride.
"The war in the Kingdom is escalating," he said. "A neighboring noble house has openly rebelled. The King's forces are mobilizing."
Silas exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. "So, it's finally happening."
Alexander tapped his fingers against the table.
The Kingdom's war had been brewing for months.
Now, it was about to explode.
Tyrell's expression darkened. "This could be good for us. If the King is busy fighting a rebellion, he won't have time to worry about us."
Marcus, ever the pragmatist, nodded. "True. But if the war drags on, the economy could collapse. Prices will skyrocket. Trade will suffer."
Silas smirked. "Which means we have a choice: stay out of it… or take advantage of the chaos."
Alexander folded his arms, his mind already moving three steps ahead.
For now, The Maxwell Dominion had to focus inward.
Secure the metal mines.
Strengthen their trade.
Expand their influence.
Because once the Kingdom's war reached its boiling point—everything would change.
Vale's Silence – The Calm Before the Storm
Days passed.
Weeks.
And something strange happened.
Vale did nothing.
No counterattack. No retaliation. No word from his spies.
It was unnerving.
Silas muttered under his breath one evening as he studied the latest reports.
"He's too quiet. Vale doesn't sit still. He always makes a move."
Alexander knew it, too. This wasn't surrender.
This was patience.
Elias leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "Then why wait? If we know he's planning something, we should strike first."
Silas shook his head. "No. We need to know what he's waiting for. If we move too soon, we could walk straight into whatever trap he's setting."
Tyrell, who had been quiet, finally spoke.
"There's something else."
Alexander turned to him. "Go on."
Tyrell placed a torn parchment on the table. "One of my scouts found this near Vale's border."
Alexander picked it up, reading the message carefully.
His blood ran cold.
It wasn't from Vale.
It was from another noble. A name they hadn't seen before.
Lord Calder of Stonehaven.
The message was simple.
"The storm is coming. Choose your side."
Alexander slowly placed the parchment down.
Silas narrowed his eyes. "Who the hell is Lord Calder?"
Tyrell crossed his arms. "Someone powerful enough that even Vale is waiting to see what he does next."
The room fell into silence.
The war with Vale wasn't over.
But another war was about to begin.