Two days after the ‘failed’ assassination attempt on Prince Arandil’s life.

  “Just like you expected, huh?” Mark asked.

  Raen nodded with a sigh, checking the traveling bags that were in front of their tent, parchment in hand. The bags had enough rations to last them for two weeks.

  “Even though we saw it coming and made preparations, it’s a shame it truly happened.”

  Military orders arrived. Raen’s entire squad was being relocated to the eastern front, staying in a guard post a couple of miles away from the camp.

  The order read like an insult.

  “Watchdogs,” Mark muttered, staring at the parchment with slight hatred. “After everything we did lately – the spies, the ambush, saving Anderson’s life during the skirmish.” He spat on the ground. “They turn us into fucking watchdogs.”

  Raen’s squad had truly done a great deal lately. They had accumulated many accolades and merits, and instead of being rewarded, they were punished. Sent away to a front that barely saw battle, a place where gaining merits and being promoted was nearly impossible.

  It was a message, one aimed at Kaelen. The one they had anticipated.

  Arandil, who had woken up yesterday evening, was separating him from his men.

  Eric brought the military orders himself before telling Raen what happened.

  “You shouldn’t be hearing this, but …” Eric glanced around. “His Highness was like you predicted. Even worse, to be honest.”

  “Woke up screaming. Thought he was captured.”

  Eric placed a hand on his hips and took a deep breath. “It took me ten minutes to calm him down, to convince him he was safe.”

  “And now?” Raen took a step forward, his voice a whisper.

  “Jumpy. He won’t eat a thing unless it is tasted first. He won’t trust anyone, not even me.”

  “He blames the battalion commander. Believes that he was either behind all of this or came with you guys to see his death. He thinks that you would have personally killed him had I and the medics not arrived on time yesterday.”

  Raen cursed inwardly as his thoughts proved right. With Arandil in that state, Kaelen and those under him would no longer be allowed to breathe normally.

  He would be affected the worst, as he held the lowest rank. He wouldn’t be able to act on his own in the slightest.

  Worst of all, aide Longton sadly passed away from his injuries that very morning. From what the doctors said, it seemed that the main cause were the stab wounds from the back.

  Some believed him to be lucky. Had the stab wounds been slightly deeper, he would have been incapacitated in the tent, dying with the Prince.

  Some believed him to be unlucky, however. Had he been just half an inch away from the assassin, perhaps even less, he might not have died from his injuries.

  Raen believed both sides were wrong.

  There was no luck or misfortune when it came to Ghost. He had done everything deliberately. Wounded Longton just enough for him to survive until reaching safety with the Prince in his arms, only to die later on.

  “We should probably start packing,” Mark stated as he stretched his arms up, glancing at Raen, who neatly folded the parchment.

  “Yes, we will leave for our new post in an hour. Get everybody ready.” Raen turned around, walking away from his squad’s tent.

  “An hour? Isn’t that too soon?”

  “That’s why we prepared ahead, right?” Raen glanced at the travelling bags before waving goodbye to Mark.

  “What the hell is he thinking?”

  Slightly confused, with his orders given, Mark returned to the tent to relay the news to the rest of their squad.

  One hour wasn’t long, but for Raen, it was enough to see Kaelen and find out more. He had to know what happened to the others. Where they were going to be stationed, as well as to give his final report to him.

  Along the way, he could see guards. More than before.

  Each tent was guarded by at least one person, no matter what tent it was. Men patrolled more often, and each patrol squad was bigger than before.

  During his walk to Kaelen, he was thinking of his next step.

  He was being relegated far away, where he could not help Kaelen at all. And where he would find no help from the army, either.

  ‘That’s wrong. Would Arandil truly just banish me away from battle?’

  ‘It seems too light, especially if he thinks I was involved in the ‘assassination’ attempt.’

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  Raen’s eyes narrowed.

  ‘There’s something I don’t know about the Eastern Front. Something that makes it dangerous, especially for my squad.’

  ‘Could the enemy be planning on focusing their next attack there?’

  Mud splashed around his boots with each step, clamor from the soldiers reached his ears, some even calling him from a distance, greeting him with respect.

  None of that was registered by Raen, who was deep in thought.

  ‘Something dangerous definitely awaits us.’

  ‘Now the question is, what will you do next, Raen?’ He thought, clenching his fists.

  ‘I won’t be the same person I once was.’ Raen’s answer came unbidden, but certain.

  He wouldn’t become that man again. The pope was dead. He died in the chamber with the rest of the cult.

  But the Lieutenant was dying as well. Arandil was making sure of it. The politics involved in being part of the army were slowly but surely smothering Raen.

  The answer was clear.

  He would choose a new, third path.

  Before he realized it, he was in front of Kaelen’s tent, waking up from his stupor, back drenched in cold sweat. He stopped and took a moment to gather his thoughts, to calm himself, before finally entering.

  Inside the tent, he found Tarris and Anderson already waiting for him, together with Kaelen.

  “Where are you stationed?” Anderson asked first, not wasting time on greetings.

  “Eastern front, the old guard post.”

  “Shit, that place is in the middle of nowhere.” Anderson cursed as he threw his own orders down to the desk.

  “I’m at the western front, sent away to ‘train fresh recruits’.”

  “At least the reasoning isn’t too bad; mine doesn’t even have any.” Raen chuckled as he leaned against the desk.

  “I’m ordered to go to the back of our army. Select a group of 40 new scouts to reinforce the scout regiment.” Tarris said with a dark face. “He’s really done it, separating us from you. And so quickly.”

  “You’re probably going to get the worst possible mission when the truce ends. They’ll probably brief you tomorrow, then send you straight into an impossible mission, blaming its failure on you.” Tarris stared straight at Kaelen, who was sitting in his chair, deep in thought.

  After several seconds, he finally opened his mouth.

  “I just don’t understand why he would wish you dead, Raen.”

  “What do you mean?” Anderson frowned. “The Eastern Front barely sees any action. He’ll be safe as anyone can be there.”

  Kaelen shook his head.

  “From the latest reports, Azurand’s army has been reorganizing itself. Moving closer to our Eastern Front.”

  “If they attack the Eastern Front …” Tarris began.

  “Raen’s squad will be first contact.” Kaelen’s jaw tightened. “They’ll be overrun before reinforcements can arrive.”

  “The prince isn’t really targeting me,” Raen stated, pushing himself from the desk. “To be more specific, he is targeting your support.”

  “I’ve done a bit too much, gained too many merits in a short time under your leadership. He doesn’t want anyone capable working for you.”

  “But even then, isn’t this too obvious?” Anderson asked, staring at Raen with concern.

  “Yes, which is why I won’t stand still and die.” Raen glanced at Kaelen. “I won’t allow my squad to be butchered by Arandil.”

  “What’s your plan then?” Kaelen asked, ignoring the fact that Raen called a member of the royal family by name.

  Raen closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

  “I’m leaving.”

  “Leaving as in?”

  “The battlefield.” Raen strode to the center of the room. “The army. This entire war.”

  “I’m taking my squad to our new post; after that, I’m walking away.”

  Kaelen stood up from his chair, staring straight into Raen’s eyes. His face grimaced in anger, and his hand grabbed his sword.

  “Do you understand what you are saying right now, Lieutenant Raen?!”

  “I do.”

  “You understand that the words you spoke now mention deserting the Empire. That you are going to commit treason?!”

  At this point, the sword was already out, pointed at Raen, with Kaelen’s might showing. An invisible force pressed down on Raen, causing his body to bend and his bones to groan in pain.

  It was similar to what he experienced when Dral had attacked him the first day he returned. Only Kaelen’s was much stronger.

  His body started shaking as it got difficult to stand. He heard ringing in his ears, and his eyesight was getting blurry.

  ‘He’s on the very cusp of becoming a Knight.’ Raen immediately noticed it.

  The otherworldly pressure that came from Kaelen was something only those close to the level of a Knight could exhibit.

  ‘Even Marcus might not be his match.’

  “What makes you think I won’t behead you this instant, Lieutenant?” Kaelen asked, his eyes still fixed on Raen, his sword still pointed at him.

  “Because you are aware, as I am, that the Empire is doomed, Your Highness,” Raen said, causing all three men inside the tent to widen their eyes.

  “I have been given a death sentence masked as an order. That means my duty to the Empire has ended. But my duty to my soldiers has not.”

  “I won’t allow those serving under me to die a dog’s death.”

  The air stilled inside the tent.

  Even now, the tip of Kaelen’s sword was pointed at Raen, his arm clenched, ready to unleash an attack whenever it was needed.

  One strike and Raen would be dead.

  All four men were well aware of that.

  And yet, Kaelen still did nothing. He stood still, fire blazing from his eyes as they never left Raen.

  “Since when?” Kaelen asked in a low murmur.

  “The patrol outside the camp. When we came across enemy soldiers disguised as our own.”

  “Your report said you learned nothing from them.”

  “Before we clashed, I overheard them talk about a battalion commander. And why they’re not framing him.” Raen smiled, still standing.

  “They said it wouldn’t work as he is a bastard son of the Emperor.”

  “I confirmed it was you after the truce was established. The Prince would never care how his aide spoke to a battalion commander.”

  Kaelen’s eyes trembled slightly as he sighed.

  “I would advise you to try to save as many lives as you can in the following days. The enemy will strike hard, and our army won’t be able to hold them back.”

  “Whatever you do, Arandil will find fault and blame you. So just survive.”

  Raen’s words echoed in Kaelen’s ears.

  “Whatever you do, don’t fight Lucien.” Raen’s face was dark, his eyes focused fully on Kaelen. “Don’t fight that monster.”

  “Run away if you have to, do whatever you must to keep living.”

  The words stayed in the tent even after Raen left. Kaelen’s sword was now pointing at the empty air in front of him, frozen in shock.

  “What … are you going to do, Kaelen?” Tarris sat down with a dark face. He stared at Kaelen while Anderson walked in circles inside the tent.

  “What he just said is treason. Clear and simple.” He muttered, his forehead beading with drops of sweat. “But why … do I feel no anger towards him?”

  “An immense talent is forced to desert the army because of the selfishness of the army commander,” Kaelen said as he sat down in his chair, dropping his sword. “How could one bear hatred towards him?”

  “His choice is my fault. It was I who couldn’t protect him against Arandil, thus pushing him on this path.”

  “What will you report then?”

  “There is nothing to report.” Kaelen smiled at Tarris. “The Lieutenant took his post on the Eastern Front. And then died to Azurand’s troops that attacked.”

  “What more is there to report?”

  The three men stayed silent. Well aware that this might be the last time they would see Raen.

  Nobody knew what the future had in store for any of them, but it was surely going to be filled with blood and endless war. Just like Raen had said, the Empire was besieged, and the situation didn’t seem much better at the other fronts compared to here.

  Perhaps in a couple of years, it would no longer be able to call itself an ‘Empire’ anymore.

  Maybe Raen was right. Maybe the only thing they could do was to make sure they survived.