Kai leaned back against the sofa, arms loosely crossed, his eyes fixed on Gareth and the pile of reports spread across the table. And it all was a result of the chaos of three days. It had been three days since he had sent the Lombards out to strike back at Thalric. And honestly, the results had stunned even him.
He had overly underestimated the hunger for revenge the Lombards had for the army that made up most of Thalric’s forces.
He had known the Lombards wanted revenge. But he hadn’t known they wanted it this badly.
Gareth picked up one of the reports, the paper crinkling in his fingers. “Three forts and a town garrison down. One major fort. One medium-sized town. Two small forts. Ragnar took one of the small ones almost alone. Minimal losses. We did lose a few men in the big fort and the town. More Mages and more kraels stationed there, so they put up a fight. Chieftain Yafgar killed one of the big kraels himself.” A faint smile tugged at Gareth’s mouth. “As ordered, they let some soldiers escape to spread the news.”
Kai nodded slowly. Fear travelled faster than any messenger. And it should work in their favour.
“And the Watchers?” Kai asked. “We got them into the remaining forts as conscripts and merchants, right?”
Gareth nodded. “Not all, but enough. They’ve already sent reports. The leadership inside those forts is… barely holding together.” He flipped another page. “Panicking. Sending letters left and right, calling for Duke Raktor, calling for Prince Thalric. No response so far.”
“For all we know,” Kai muttered, “they’re panicking too.”
“Probably, my lord,” Gareth said. “Thalric never expected Aldrin to fall so fast. He pushed most of his forces toward Eldric. And now—” Gareth hesitated, eyes dropping to another sheet, “—we’re starting to get reports from that front too.”
Kai raised an eyebrow. “What reports?”
“At first, Thalric’s forces had the upper hand. Those flying beasts gave them a big advantage in the siege. But suddenly, Eldric’s troops started pushing them back hard. They’re killing far more of Thalric’s men than before.”
Kai’s eyes narrowed. “Suddenly?”
“Yes,” Gareth said. “According to the Watchers, it’s like Eldric’s army found a new source of strength overnight. It’s like they’re borrowing strength from somewhere. They said that the soldiers there aren't acting normal. None of them are. There are fistfights breaking out in their taverns every day. Soldiers turning on each other. It’s like they’re burning from the inside.”
Kai went quiet.
Suddenly, a cold, unwelcoming thought crept to his mind. And he knew—he knew for a fact that sudden strengths never came for free. Not in this era, and knowing Regina, it could be easily related to Maleficia. A chill ran up his spine, wondering what she was doing. Whatever she had given Eldric’s forces, it couldn’t be anything good.
But he forced himself to breathe. His plans were in motion. A few more days and Thalric would fall. He couldn’t afford to be distracted now. Whatever Regina was upto, he would deal with her after that.
He looked back at Gareth. “I’m guessing Thalric is splitting his forces? Half fighting Eldric, half trapped along the border trying to keep those hibernating beasts in check.”
Gareth nodded. “Yes. But Watchers say he might pull the border forces back to his main army soon. He will reevaluate because he knows that we’re coming. Duke Raktor is already panicking. He’s hunting for more mana cannons, even mana guns, to defend the forts.”
Kai allowed himself a smile. “Good. That’s exactly what we want him to do.” Then he paused his train of thoughts and felt his expression turn serious. “Is he ready?”
Gareth nodded at that immediately, seeming to understand who Kai meant.
“Yes, I spoke with him. He says he’s ready and he understands the danger. I’ve kept the plan limited to only a few people, like you ordered, but I still think that the plan might cost him his life.”
“I understand that. That’s exactly why we need to make sure that he’s able to run away in time when the need arises. I know it’s hard and very risky, but you need to understand why we need to do it. Going the conventional way—imagine if we do that, taking forts and cities one by one, we will just be wasting too much time. It will also give Thalric room to counterattack. And I don't want to expose our full forces just yet. We have to be smart.
“It would’ve been easier if the elves had responded.”
Kai’s brows pulled together. When the war started, he had tried to reach out to the elves by sending Raven to request support. She had never returned. He still didn’t know if something had happened to her or if the elves were simply refusing contact. With the war swelling on all sides, he hadn’t had the luxury to look into it.
He forced his thoughts back into order and looked at Gareth. “That’s alright. I’m sure we’ll hear something soon. For now, Thalric is our priority. Have the Elder Tree stumps arrived?”
Gareth nodded. “Yes. A shipment came in last night. We’ve already placed them in your room, Lord Arzan.”
Kai would smile at that, saying, “Good. I’ll be in my room for a few days working on a project that might aid us in the war. Keep the Lombards pushing deeper into Thalric’s territory and keep up the pressure. Don’t let them move toward any fort we know that we can’t win. One loss will give Thalric confidence. And speak to him again before sending him out. Everything depends on him. Make sure he knows that whatever happens, I will support him.”
Gareth nodded. “I understand, Lord Arzan.”
“Good,” Kai said as he rose to his feet. “I’ll be in my room.”
With that, he left Gareth with the reports and the mountain of tasks ahead and stepped out into the hallway.
Viscountess Vaessa estate felt almost peaceful compared to the noise on the walls. Downstairs, maids moved between rooms with quiet steps, carrying trays and folded cloth. They didn’t disturb and that was more than Kai could ask for. He crossed the wide corridor quickly and headed up the stairs.
Vaessa had given him the entire top floor. She said it was because the Lombards had refused to live anywhere except the walls, leaving most rooms empty, but Kai knew it was also her way of making sure that Kai got some quiet time.
He walked toward the room he’d been sleeping in. When he opened the door, he stopped for a moment. Sitting on the table was a large crate.
A small smile tugged at his lips.
He crossed the room, lifted the lid, and saw exactly what he’d been waiting for—the Elder Tree stumps, carefully wrapped in thick sheets of paper. Five pieces. Thick, dense, each trunk cut to equal size.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Kai picked them up one by one, weighing them in his hands. Even through the paper, he could feel the faint hum of mana running through the ancient wood like a slow heartbeat.
Three pieces would be enough to craft a wand worthy of a Fifth-Circle Mage… maybe even more. But having two extra was a comfort. Wand-making required precision. One mistake could ruin everything.
He unwrapped the first stump fully and ran his thumb across the grain, feeling its warmth rise into his palm.
“It’s time,” he whispered to himself, eyes narrowing with focus. “Let’s see if I can make the best wand in the world.”
***
Palman rode through the western part of the kingdom looking dishevelled, his cloak torn at the edges and his horse stumbling with exhaustion after hours on the move. He had taken long, winding routes through gullies and forest shadows, avoiding the marching Lombards and any patrol that could spot him from afar. With the war choking the roads, there weren’t even merchants to hide behind. Only empty paths, broken wagons, and abandoned campsites.
Luckily, this region had enough caves and rocky outcrops that he could slip through them whenever he needed cover—though that came with its own problems. One cave had been crawling with stoneback spiders, their legs scraping loudly against the walls as they rushed him in the dark. A year ago, he would have panicked. A year ago, he had panicked when the corruption had twisted his body and nearly turned him into a mana weaver. But he was a different man now.
He cut the spiders down quickly, his movements clean and practiced. In the last year, he had trained harder than anyone else, trying to make the other men in Lord Arzan’s service trust him better, but he had only gotten the same cold stares from people who still thought he would sprout claws and rip them apart. That used to hurt badly. When Lord Arzan had healed him, Palman thought everything would go back to normal. His old squadmates. His old friends. Anyone who once trusted him and spent time with him would be relieved. But fear clung stronger than reason, and they had chosen distance instead of welcome.
He had stopped blaming them. Eventually, he realised most people only trusted what made them feel safe, and he no longer fit that image. They were afraid of the idea of him, not the man he had become. And that was fine. He didn’t need their approval anymore. Lord Arzan had given him something far more important—a task that mattered. A task that might even cost Palman his life. But compared to the fate he had escaped, that price felt almost small. He had nearly lost it once anyways, and if death was in his fate, he would welcome it.
The last year had been a close and almost spiritual experience for him, and after surviving it, Palman had changed. Instead of fearing death, he now feared wasting his life, and helping Lord Arzan win the war felt like a purpose worth dying for. Only his wife and children tugged at the back of his mind, but he trusted Lord Arzan’s words; they would be cared for if he didn’t return. Still, Palman believed he would return. He had been given enough training to escape if things went wrong… not that he planned to run. He trusted himself. The only thing that could stop him now was fate itself.
So he rode—through rocky paths, through thick stretches of forest, through abandoned trade roads—barely giving his horse time to breathe. By the time the sun climbed toward its peak, the shape of his destination finally appeared in the distance.
Fort Kaelgrim.
The first fort Thalric had taken. And the place where Palman knew his target would be.
Even from afar, he could see how heavily reinforced the fort had become. Fresh timber lined the walls. Soldiers stood at every ledge, bows ready. His gaze drifted toward the squat shapes mounted on the battlements—mana cannons. Not many, but enough to be dangerous. Likely the same cannons Lord Arzan had once sold to nobles.
Palman slowed his horse, letting the soldiers see him clearly. A mana cannon swivelled toward him, its barrel tracking his movements, but no one fired.
Good. They’re cautious, but not stupid.
He rode right up to the gate. After a few tense seconds, a small latch slid open. A handful of soldiers stepped out, weapons drawn, eyes sharp.
“Who are you?” the front soldier demanded. “State your purpose.”
Palman didn’t waste a second. “My name is Palman,” he said calmly. “I’m here to meet Duke Raktor and King Thalric.”
The soldier at the front stepped closer, gripping his sword. He was a tall, dark man, and easily twice Palman’s size.
“Not just anyone gets to meet them. Who sent you here?”
“No one. I came on my own. I carry information that can turn this war in King Thalric’s favour. That’s why I’m here.”
The soldiers exchanged uneasy looks. Palman could see the doubt in their eyes—none of them trusted him, and he hadn’t expected them to.
He slowly slid a hand into his pocket. Every weapon pointed at him instantly lifted higher. “Relax,” Palman said calmly. “I’m only taking out a note.”
He pulled out a folded piece of paper and held it out to the lead soldier. “Don’t read it. Give it to Duke Raktor or the king. They’ll call for me after that.”
“You’re awfully confident,” the soldier muttered. “What’s inside?”
“Information,” Palman replied simply. “Like I said. Hand it over and wait. I’m not going anywhere. If you’re worried, take my horse—I can’t run without it.”
He got off the horse immediately and stepped aside, knowing the soldiers would take him on his offer.
One soldier moved forward and tugged the reins, dragging the horse inside the gate. The lead soldier whispered with the others for a moment, then told Palman to stay put before disappearing into the fort with the note.
Left alone in front of the gates, Palman lifted his eyes to the sun and allowed himself a small smile. Once Thalric or Duke Raktor read that message, they would summon him inside.
And then the first stage of Lord Arzan’s plan would begin, the one that would turn this entire fort into rubble.
***
A/N - You can read 30 chapters (15 Magus Reborn and 15 Dao of money) on my patreon. Annual subscription is now on too.
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