The flames of war still devoured Ironvale. Fifty thousand Solaris
soldiers encircled the city, their siege engines hurling flaming
stones while magic ripped across the sky. The thunder of battle pressed on
every chest as though the earth itself fought alongside them. Behind the
fractured walls, twenty thousand Sunstones fought with
desperate resolve.
On the western rampart, King Barthol Van Stones glared at a tower collapsing
under fire. Blood ran down his temple, but his sword remained raised.
"Hold your blades! Do not yield! As long as I draw breath, Ironvale will never
fall!"
His cry pierced through the smoke and chaos. Soldiers who had staggered
found their strength again. Shields cracked, bodies trembled, but every hand
gripped a weapon. Below, townsfolk prayed, blacksmiths hammered scrap into
arms, even children sang battle songs to drive away fear. Ironvale still lived,
even with death at its gates.
To the south, forty thousand Solaris troops surrounded
Veritas. Their assault was measured—flaming arrows, spear phalanxes, and the
occasional burst of destructive magic. They had no intent to storm the walls,
only to lock the republic in fear.
Inside the capital, the senate dissolved into chaos.
"If we send aid to Ironvale, Veritas will burn!" an elder shouted.
"If Ironvale falls, Solaris will swallow us next!" another countered.
Confusion poisoned morale. Twelve thousand soldiers of Veritas
stood idle behind their walls, fighting half-heartedly, uncertain whom they
truly defended—their people, or the pride of a senate divided. Solaris needed
only to let that fear fester.
Meanwhile, in the stillness of the silver forest, Silverwood's grand hall
glittered with runed pillars. King Eryndor spoke before his nobles.
"Solaris bares its fangs, but Silverwood will not be their pawn," his voice
rang, firm and clear. "We will stand with the Sunstones. On one condition:
Silverwood's silverwood lumber will be their prime export—free of tax."
Some nobles whispered dissent, but the king's decree was law. The envoy of
Sunstones bowed deeply, accepting without hesitation. He knew well—Ironvale's
survival was worth far more than the price of wood. Thus the
Silverwood–Sunstones alliance was forged, bound by blood and trade.
At Solaris's frontier, twenty-five thousand Valorian soldiers
faced the towering walls. Behind them waited twenty thousand frontierfaced the towering walls. Behind them waited twenty thousand frontier
troops of Solaris—a garrison unreinforced, for the twentytroops of Solaris—a garrison unreinforced, for the twenty
thousand soldiers ordered from Veritas had not yet arrived. They
marched under Serath Malrick, but their boots had not reached the battlefield.
Arthur stood at the front. To others, the barrier above the walls was only a
blue shimmer; to him it unfolded like lines of code. Nodes of light were
variables, glowing beams became functions, mana flowed like an infinite loop.
"This is a loop without end," he murmured. "The rune runs on while(true),
endlessly refreshing. But if I slip in just one wrong instruction…"
He wove qi into the air like keystrokes. Energy shaped itself into an
if-statement, striking a node. The rune shuddered, resisting. Arthur steadied
his breath, then fused qi and mana, overwriting the old function with a new
one. He was not destroying—it was a forced rewrite.
On the wall, Solaris mages cried out.
"Our runes are breached! A foreign resonance!"
Arthur's eyes flared. His twin blades crossed, delivering the final command.
"Return."
Like a program forced shut, the barrier cracked. Blue light splintered,
shattering like glass, its shards raining down in glittering ruin.
Valoria roared.
"Forward!" Arthur raised his sword. "Their firewall is down!"
Battle erupted. Valorian qi-knights surged like storms, Solaris arrows
bouncing harmlessly from their armor. Valorian mages chanted spells of
reinforcement, making their soldiers faster, stronger, untouchable.
On the walls, Solaris fought desperately—arrows, boiling oil, spears thrust
from murder holes.
"Hold the line! Don't let them climb!" a captain bellowed.
Arthur stormed into the thickest defense. His Dual Blade Dance spun
his swords into arcs of light, cutting down dozens in a breath.
The clash of steel, the roar of spells, the screams of the dying merged into
one long howl. From dawn till dusk the slaughter raged. And when the sun
finally fell, the frontier of Solaris lay broken.
Both sides paid dearly. Valoria lost more than a thousand. Solaris lost tenBoth sides paid dearly. Valoria lost more than a thousand. Solaris lost ten
thousand of their twenty thousand. The surviving ten thousand
retreated toward Draxenhold. The golden lion banner of Valoria rose above gates
once deemed unbreakable.
Defeated Solaris soldiers scattered. Drums beat not for advance, but
retreat. Ten thousand survivors fled toward Draxenhold to
regroup.
On the road, a black raven landed on the arm of General Serath Malrick,
commander drawn from Veritas. He unrolled the sealed message, his eyes
hardening.
"The frontier has fallen. Valoria has broken our wall." His voice was cold.
He turned to his officers. "Change course. We march to Draxenhold. If that city
falls, the heart of Solaris lies open."
News outran horse and blade.
In Ironvale, soldiers on the brink of despair cheered, chanting Arthur's
name as though he were their own king. A flame that had nearly died burned
anew.
In Silverwood, King Eryndor received the envoy's message. He allowed himself
a thin smile. "Our choice was just." The silver forest stirred with motion.
In Veritas, the senate that had roared fell silent. The scroll was read
aloud, faces turned pale. Whispers spread: it would be safer to parley with
Valoria than to wait for Solaris's noose.
At Solaris's war camp before Ironvale, the black sun banner cast long
shadows across the command tent. Torches flickered, firelight danced on anxious
faces. Lucian Solaris sat on a plain iron chair, Drakemont beside him, hunched
over a map of Etheria.
"The frontier is lost," Lucian said heavily. "Valoria plants its banner on
our soil. What say you?"
Drakemont jabbed at the map. "Ironvale remains besieged with fifty thousand.
Forty thousand still surround Veritas. The frontier is shattered—ten thousand
retreating toward Draxenhold. We have no reserves left in the capital."
An older general slammed the table. "If we strip Veritas, they might strike
back!"
"No," Drakemont shot back. "They cannot even agree to aid the Sunstones.
They will not dare march out."
The tent erupted in argument until Lucian's voice cut sharp as steel.
"Ironvale stays strangled. Veritas stays pinned. Draxenhold must be reinforced.
The frontier may fall, but Solaris will not."
Silence fell. The generals exchanged glances, then bowed.
Lucian rose, eyes burning.
"We will break Valoria at Draxenhold. And the world will see the sun still
burns."