🔥 Chapter 60 — The Decisive Clash
The eastern plains were alive with movement. The King's massive retaliation force surged toward the hubs, dust and magical energy rising in waves. Kael and Rhyne stood on the ridge, Ember threads coiling like serpents around Kael's arms, flames flickering with calculated intensity.
Rhyne tightened his grip on his sigil blade. "This is it. The King thinks overwhelming numbers will reclaim the eastern front. He has no idea what's waiting for him."
Kael's eyes glowed, Ember threads extending through the forest, activating hidden wards and illusions. "Every step he takes, every unit he commits, has been anticipated. This battlefield is ours, not just by force, but by design."
Below, the King's army entered the controlled zones. Soldiers stumbled into narrow ravines, illusions misdirected cavalry, and wards disrupted magical formations. Panic spread quickly, officers shouting orders that could not be followed.
Rhyne smirked. "It's perfect. Fear and confusion will do what steel cannot. The King's army will crumble without us striking a single lethal blow."
Kael focused, Ember threads weaving through the battlefield like threads of fire, subtly manipulating energy flows, guiding the King's units into chokepoints, and amplifying miscoordination. His flames flickered with precise control, illuminating illusions that turned open paths into traps.
The King's elite units tried to intervene, but every move was anticipated. Each commander isolated, each spell misfired, every formation fractured. The King's desperation became evident, his army splitting under pressure, morale breaking with every failed advance.
Kael whispered, "It's over. His army is divided, his forces shattered, and his ability to control this front gone. The eastern region belongs to us."
Rhyne's grin widened. "All because we controlled the battlefield, not just fought it. He underestimated strategy—and that's why he lost."
From the ridge, Kael and Rhyne watched the remnants of the King's army retreat across the plains. Smoke rose from minor skirmishes, but the eastern hubs stood intact, wards glowing softly, the forest under their control.
The eastern front had been won. The King had been outmaneuvered, his forces fractured, and the battlefield decisively theirs. Kael and Rhyne had turned strategy, patience, and precise execution into victory. The war was far from over—but the balance had shifted.
The eastern plains were theirs, and the King had no choice but to react to their terms.