And then reality caught up.
"Enemy in sight!"
The shout tore through the air, sharp and immediate, breaking whatever calm remained. It didn't take more than that for everything to shift.
From stillness… to motion.
General Arhim reacted without delay. His command came firm and controlled, cutting across the walls of Hower.
"Take defensive positions. Now."
There was no confusion among the soldiers. No hesitation. Every unit moved exactly where it needed to be, as if this moment had already been lived a hundred times in preparation.
From inside the castle, I watched the entire formation take shape.
Along the massive stone walls of Hower, the archers were the first to settle into position. They spread out with disciplined spacing, bows raised, eyes locked on the horizon. They didn't rush to fire. They waited, holding their range advantage until the right moment.
Behind them, the second line formed—a wall of shielded infantry. Heavy armor, large shields locked together, creating a solid defensive barrier. Their role was clear. If the enemy managed to climb the walls, these men would be the ones to stop them.
And behind that line stood the third layer—the mage units.
Positioned carefully, protected from direct exposure. They weren't meant to take the first hit. They were meant to decide the battle when the time came.
Layer by layer, the defense completed itself.
Hower City wasn't just any city. It was a fortified stronghold, the largest among the three southern border cities. If this one fell, it wouldn't just be a loss of territory—it would open the entire southern region to Velkyria.
This wasn't just a battle for a city.
It was a battle for control.
I remained in the castle, observing everything as it unfolded, tracking each movement, each decision, each second that passed.
Then a messenger arrived in haste.
"Sire… the enemy commander has been identified."
I turned toward him. "Who?"
"General Varek Noctis. And their total strength is approximately twenty-five thousand."
More than double our numbers.
I didn't respond immediately. Instead, I looked at Rowan.
"What kind of general is he?"
Rowan's answer came without pause. "Ruthless. Hot-headed. He doesn't care about his soldiers. For him, only victory matters. And to achieve it… he won't hesitate to cross any line."
That was enough to form a clear picture.
A commander like that wouldn't hold back. He wouldn't hesitate. He wouldn't play safe.
Which meant—
If things unfolded the way we had planned, we had a chance.
But only then.
No room for error.
No room for delay.
I looked back at Rowan. "Have all the civilians been evacuated from the city? No one's left behind, right?"
"Yes, Sire," he replied. "General Arhim ensured it yesterday. Every citizen has been sent to the nearest safe city."
A quiet sense of relief settled in.
At least the innocent wouldn't pay the price for what was about to happen.
On the other side of the battlefield, the atmosphere was entirely different.
Inside the command tent, a soldier stood before General Varek.
"Commander, intelligence reports that Valenford has approximately ten thousand troops stationed at Hower. They've taken full defensive positions. What are your orders?"
Varek let out a low scoff.
"Ten thousand… against twenty-five."
A faint smile formed on his face, one that carried no restraint.
"They're going to die badly today."
He gestured dismissively. "Call Captain Victor and Captain Zevran. We begin strategy."
"Immediately, sir."
A short while later, both captains stood inside the tent, and without wasting time, Varek began outlining the plan.
"We surround them," he said, pointing across the map. "Victor, you take your company and move to the left flank. Block their left gate completely."
Victor nodded. "Understood."
"Zevran, you take the right. Same objective. No movement in or out."
Zevran acknowledged without hesitation.
Varek then placed his hand toward the center. "I will lead the main force from the front. Once we close in, they won't have anywhere to go."
The strategy was simple.
Overwhelming.
Decisive.
Zevran, however, raised a concern. "What about the north gate? If they try to escape, that's their route."
For a moment, Varek said nothing. Then a slight smile returned.
"We're not blocking it."
Both captains looked at him.
"If the intelligence is correct, reinforcements are on their way to support Arhim," Varek continued. "They'll approach through the mountain passes."
He tapped a point on the map.
"I've already deployed a separate unit under Lieutenant Caster there."
Understanding settled in.
"…An ambush," Victor murmured.
Varek nodded. "We cut off their reinforcements before they even reach Hower. And if we capture the city before that…"
His expression hardened.
"Then anyone who tries to escape through the north will die anyway."
A brief silence followed.
Then laughter.
Low at first, then spreading.
Zevran let out a grin. "Understood. Today, Valenford witnesses its worst defeat."
The tent soon filled with their confidence, their certainty echoing in every corner.
Later.....
Soon after, another update reached General Arhim.
A messenger arrived in haste, delivering the report without delay. The enemy had begun their movement. One company was advancing toward the left gate, another toward the right, while the central force was being led directly by General Varek himself.
It was a clear encirclement strategy.
The intent was straightforward—cut off all escape routes, isolate Hower, and finish the battle within its walls.
However, something about the formation raised concern.
General Arhim's attention shifted toward the northern side of the city. That route remained open.
"Why aren't they blocking the north gate?" he questioned, more to assess the situation than to seek a direct answer.
Lieutenant Sam responded after a brief pause, offering a practical possibility. The enemy might not have sufficient strength to fully surround the city, forcing them to prioritize key points instead.
But the explanation didn't fully convince Arhim.
He remained silent for a moment, studying the field beyond the walls.
"That's unlikely," he said at last, his tone measured. "They have the numbers. This is intentional."
Before the reasoning could develop further, another messenger rushed in, urgency evident in every step.
BOOM...BOOM..."what's that ?", commander Arhim asked. Soon another messenger arrived.
"Commander! The enemy has begun their assault. They're using fire-based magic to target the front gate, and multiple wall turrets are under attack."
He continued without pause.
"Their first infantry wave is advancing—approximately three thousand soldiers."
The situation escalated rapidly.
General Arhim issued his orders without hesitation. The archer units were instructed to focus on halting the advancing enemy troops, while the mage units were ordered to counter the incoming magical attacks.
At the same time, he reassigned control across the defensive lines.
Lieutenant Sam was ordered to take command of the right gate, while Captain Rim was assigned to the left. Both were given clear directives—to hold their positions, respond to any breach attempts, and avoid unnecessary advancement until further instructions were issued.
The responses came immediately, precise and disciplined.
And with that, the battle formally began.
From both sides, the arrows began.
What started as a few scattered shots quickly turned into a relentless exchange. The sky filled with streaks of movement—arrows cutting through the air, colliding with bursts of fire launched from the enemy's side. Valenford's mages responded in equal measure, intercepting and neutralizing incoming attacks before they could land.
For a moment, the battlefield looked almost unreal.
Like controlled chaos.
Like a storm of fire and steel colliding midair.
The news of the battle reaching full engagement didn't take long to reach me.
From the castle's outer window, I could see everything—and yet, I couldn't see anything clearly. The scale was too large. Movements blurred into patterns, and patterns into noise. I wasn't watching individual soldiers.
I was watching momentum.
And I wasn't thinking about how we would win.
That part had already been decided.
What mattered now was timing.
When it would happen.
How long it would take.
I stood there, eyes fixed on the battlefield, and spoke quietly under my breath.
"Just a little longer…"
On the ground, the intensity kept rising.
Valenford's archers and mages held their positions, pushing back with everything they had. Every arrow released, every spell cast, carried intent. Discipline held the lines steady, even as the cost of holding them became visible.
Because this was no longer preparation.
This was war.
Losses were inevitable.
Velkyria's forces were taking casualties as they advanced, but so was Valenford. Even then, given the defensive position and structured response, Valenford still held the upper hand—for now.
The enemy's first wave struggled to reach the walls.
Under constant fire, their advance slowed, bodies falling before they could even close the distance. But numbers carried weight. Even with heavy losses, the first wave eventually reached the base of Hower's walls.
And from there—
They began to climb.
Ropes were thrown up, hooks locking onto the stone as soldiers started ascending. It was a desperate push, exposed and vulnerable.
Valenford's defenders didn't let up.
Arrows rained down. Magic followed. Soldiers were cut down mid-climb, falling before they could even reach the top.
But the pressure didn't stop.
For nearly thirty minutes, the cycle continued.
Advance. Fall. Replace.
Again and again.
Then—
Everything shifted.
A concentrated barrage of fire-based attacks struck the front gate.
One after another.
The impact was different this time.
Stronger. Focused.
And then—
The gate gave in.
The breach was sudden.
Decisive.
The moment the news reached General Arhim, his response was immediate.
"All infantry at the central line—hold the front gate. Do not let them push inside. Use everything you have."
There was no delay in execution.
But the battlefield didn't pause to accommodate orders.
The moment the gate broke, Velkyria's forces surged forward, pouring through the opening without hesitation.
And just like that—
The fight moved inside.
What followed wasn't formation.
It wasn't structured engagement.
It was chaos.
Steel met steel. Magic collided at close range. The space near the gate turned into a confined battlefield where neither side could afford to retreat.
A messenger rushed toward Arhim again, urgency clear in his voice.
"Sir, I have news...."
The front gate had become a killing ground.
The update reached General Varek soon after.
The moment he heard the gate had fallen, his decision was immediate.
"Push the second wave."
There was no hesitation.
No reconsideration.
Pressure.
Relentless and continuous.
By then, the front gate had already transformed.
It was no longer an entry point.
It was a blood field.
When that news reached me, the atmosphere inside the room shifted completely.
The tension was immediate.
Heavy.
I couldn't stay still.
I found myself pacing without realizing it, moving back and forth, every second stretching longer than it should.
This was the point where things could collapse.
Or—
Turn.
Then another report arrived.
And this time—
Everything changed.
The moment I heard it, the tension broke.
A sharp clarity replaced it.
A faint smile formed before I could stop it.
And I said it out loud.
"Tables have turned, my friend… General Varek."