A new army surged down from the mountains like an avalanche, rushing to aid Telorand. One, smaller part of the force crashed into the stunned pirates, driving them toward Dellivrine; another fell upon the enemy's ramparts, crushing their fortifications; the third seized enemy positions, turning their cannons and arquebuses against their former masters. A fiery barrage fell upon Cassander’s soldiers as the Vaimarites and Alvens, led by Lainter, broke through to the Asternians, shattered the deadly encirclement, and drove the pirates northwest. Encouraged by the support, the Mainorans attacked the enemy with renewed fury, determined not to let a single foe leave the battlefield alive. Terrified, the pirates fled toward Dellivrine, only to meet their deaths in its embrace. The field was already littered with pirate corpses, and jubilant townspeople gathered on the walls to watch the last remnants of the enemy forces desperately resist the might of a free Aktida in the rays of the setting sun.

  Kairu, Viggo, and Remiz were once again mounted on their Hellsteeds, racing to catch up with their allies and join the Mainorans and Yuf Lainter. Scattered pirates tried to block the cavalry with spears, but their own fortifications met them with fire. The sun was dipping westward, and in its fading light, the last of the enemies tried to escape pursuit, disappearing into the northern forests.

  The surviving pirate forces, disciplined and raised in fearlessness under their officers, regrouped into a terrible fist and clashed with Lainter’s troops. The battle was brutal and unrelenting; dozens fell on both sides. Lainter himself was gravely wounded that evening. As he retreated toward Mainor, he met the remnants of the Twelfth Regiment—but Kairu, Viggo, and Remiz were not among them. They were still fighting in the hills and on the forest's edge, chasing down retreating pirate regiments.

  The sun sank behind the forest. Aktida’s army halted, cornering the last thousand pirates trying to flee westward. It seemed the outcome of the battle was sealed.

  But in unleashing all their hatred on Cassander’s army, the Mainorans had completely forgotten the cunning of Saelin. The pirates had long since become only one of his armies. He had not risked everything on a single, even trump, card. And so, when a raven streaked like black lightning over the forests of the Eastern Province, another army, hidden several miles from Mainor, began to stir.

  King Emerlun had awaited spring, rightly believing Saelin would not dare complex maneuvers in winter. But even a warm March had been enough to move a new force to the city’s gates. Now it had arrived at its hour.

  Suddenly, the earth trembled beneath the marching of thousands feet. The pirates fled through the forests in superstitious terror, but the Alvens stopped and turned toward Dellivrine. Cries of horror caught in many throats as they saw monstrous creatures crossing the river south of the Enchanted Forest.

  There were no more than three hundred of them, but their sheer size and hideous appearance inspired fear and despair equal to that of any vast army. These were grotesque beasts resembling spiders, several times the size of a horse, with eight hairy, long legs and terrifyingly powerful mandibles flanking a venomous proboscis. On their bright red backs rode spear-wielding riders in crimson masks. The beasts’ eight eyes burned with primal malice, constantly scanning in all directions. They were called arachnids, dreadful denizens of the distant eastern forests, and now these creatures were crossing the turbulent Ilvion, swarming ashore and clattering toward the humans.

  Stunned, the Alvens froze. No horse or rider could hope to match the arachnids in speed or strength. This was the force the pirates had counted on, and now, realizing reinforcements had arrived, they struck the Alvens with redoubled fury.

  The city gates shut. Inside remained only the king, officials, senior officers, and physicians. In the light of the setting sun, the cavalry re-formed, preparing to charge the arachnids in what was clearly a hopeless battle. From the northeast came the sound of drums, and another pirate detachment emerged to support the broken army near the city walls. United, these forces could have doomed the Mainorans.

  And it was this moment, when Mainor was saved a third time. Trumpets blared, hooves thundered, and from the direction of the Enchanted Forest came a battle cry:

  "CHIR-O-O-O-N!"

  The centaurs had arrived.

  Their army had, just in time, crossed the Dellivrine, and now the forest dwellers stormed down the hills like a monstrous avalanche bristling with spears and swords. At their front, Kairu recognized the centaur king. As he galloped past the humans, he shouted:

  "Leave the arachnids to us! Your task is to deal with the humans! Do what you're best at—we'll take care of the rest! For Laugdeil! Chiron!"

  And like a deadly wave, the centaur force rolled down the hills and slammed into the ranks of the giant spiders.

  Chaos erupted instantly. The centaurs outnumbered them, but the arachnids barreled forward, crushing everything in their path. Thick carapaces protected them, and the centaurs swarmed them ten at a time, striking with short pikes. Mandibles snapped like shears, crunching through the warriors of the Enchanted Forest. The battle raged atop heaps of mangled bodies. This was the most terrifying moment of the battle, as two armies locked in a deadly embrace, refusing to retreat.

  For a few seconds, the humans watched the bloodbath as if spellbound. Then a shout rang out: "For Mainor!" and the cavalry charged the approaching pirates. Swords were raised, and through the gunsmoke, enemy bodies flew into the dark waters of the Ilvion.

  Kairu was there, too, still fighting, spending every last ounce of strength, even though the battle had dragged on for hours. He didn’t strive to reach the center, instead holding the rear guard, finishing off pirates who tried to escape into the woods. Behind him, the field roared with chaos, shouts, screams, the crack of bone. They now fought in the forest's shadowy canopy, where the light was dim and the air cool. The enemies were so exhausted they could barely lift their swords. Lainter’s fresh troops, arriving from Petista, fell upon them with ruthless fury. They took no prisoners, slaughtering every last pirate and destroying the army of invaders at the root. They sought vengeance. Many fought for what had happened in Surrell and Nalvin, and they cared little how many would die at the border of the Enchanted Forest.

  Kairu wiped the sweat from his brow. Skirmishes flared up everywhere. The enemy still fought under a few remaining officers. But Cassander was nowhere to be found, despite the remnants of his once-mighty army being gathered into a single ring. Branches cracked, trees shuddered, someone was trying to break through the encirclement. In vain. Kairu looked back one more time. He saw Viggo swinging his axe furiously, dodging a pirate’s saber. He saw Remiz, fending off two foes at once with his katanas, their blades ringing through the forest, startling beasts and birds that scattered in fright. He saw Woody, who, caught in the frenzy of battle, had forgotten everything else and was now gleefully chasing a fleeing pirate, drifting far from the center of the fight.

  Cassander was not there.

  Kairu darted forward, shielding himself with a broken shield from the sharp branches that stretched over the path. Everything around was sinking into the twilight of an April evening, the sky above glowing purple with orange streaks. The noise of battle was fading; only the needles and branches creaked under the horse’s hooves. He galloped through the forest, scanning for retreating units, trying to find those who had broken through the encirclement—but there were none.

  Kairu clenched his teeth. He pressed his knees into the horse and rushed off, making another loop along the edge of the forest. He burst out onto a clearing near the banks of the Dellivrine River, turned around, and cast a brief glance over the battlefield. The carnage was horrific, but the centaurs had held their ground and turned the tide. The arachnids were falling one after another under their furious onslaught, though both sides were suffering monstrous losses.

  In a rage, Kairu urged the horse into a gallop. He raced along the forest edge, heading back toward his comrades. A hated face hovered before his eyes, and as he rode under the canopy of trees, he shouted into the void:

  "Cassander! Where are you?"

  Only echoes answered him, the buzz of the occasional bullet, angry voices, and the clash of blades. Alaskrit shimmered dully in the orange rays of the sun. And then Kairu suddenly felt himself losing consciousness again.

  The sword never left his hand. The mark engraved on the new blade began to glow. Circles danced before his eyes; Kairu closed them. The Hellsteed lunged forward, and he was thrown from the horseback. A fall. A flash. Darkness, in which only he and the glowing blade remained.

  "Saelin!"

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  A sky covered in black clouds. Factory smoke, the roar of thousands of mechanisms, the grinding of turbines sealed within massive concrete buildings. Mountains raised by human hands; within those fiery casemates and basements lay the forges. Tens of thousands of humans and hideous creatures laboring for the new empire founded on the remains of the Eastern Province. Beyond those black mountains—a swampy forest, covered in sticky spiderwebs. A forest surrounding a bare plateau, rising from the flatlands, ringed with moats and barracks, with fortress walls, solid and unshakable...

  The Citadel of the Wolf!

  Armies already marching from its gates, moving along seldom-used paths to the northwest, toward Ilvion and Mainor. The forces gathering again, ready to strike. The first part of the military campaign had failed. That doesn’t matter. Saelin always has a backup plan.

  "My lord?"

  "I told you not to disturb me! Get out!"

  "But you asked to be informed of the successful operation... The city is ours; we can now push our borders north..."

  "Excellent work. Now leave me be!"

  The laboratory doors close. A man in a white lab coat and gloves, with glasses and long disheveled hair, turns and looks at the diamond flooding the room with blinding light... The darker it is around, the brighter the stars shine...

  "We’ll manage," he whispers. "You and I. No one else is needed. They all—they betrayed us. The Seer... I’ll either get him, or find a way to do without him. This time, our plan will work. I have thousands of experiments in reserve... More than that, I have eternity. True eternity, that lasts as long as I remain here..."

  "Yet if you do succeed, you’ll enjoy less than a day... Perhaps just a single moment."

  "So be it. That’s still better than dying here. You don’t know it yet, but the world will change. For the better. I remember that. And now, while I’m still here, I believe it."

  "You have nothing left to remember. And nothing to believe in, except your own ideas."

  "Maybe so. But I’ll do everything I can to prove that’s a lie."

  Sparking wire ends. Argon lamps lighting a long vestibule. Chemical reagents in flasks and retorts on the shelves. Rumbling machines. Blueprints, grimoires, and manuscripts strewn over the workbench.

  "You know what I’m willing to do to reach the truth..."

  Pain. Hellish pain. An endless stream of energy, piercing time and space, connecting a source lying in the Enchanted Forest to the highest room in the Citadel. That stream was now focused on a single goal.

  The man in the lab coat is hurled to the floor. He can’t shield himself or raise a barrier, because an absolute force is aimed at him. An ultimate weapon, with power unmatched in the universe. Absolute power, which can only be given to one who can master it...

  "Is that you? Is it you, Seer? I know it’s you, your will is controlling this diamond now!"

  "Feel the pain... Because of you, half of Aktida was bathed in blood. For what? We all suffered because of you... Now it’s your turn."

  "What do you know of pain?" The man in the lab coat lies on the floor, pale, his veins bulging, his hands trembling, tears streaming from his eyes, and yet he is laughing. "You’re just a boy who thinks he knows everything. I’ve endured pain you can’t even imagine. And I burn with the same thirst for vengeance."

  "I will kill Cassander. And then I’ll kill you."

  "You still have much to learn... Come here. The time has come. You are experienced enough, and angry enough, for us to finally meet face to face. I’ve dreamed of this meeting for a long time. It should have happened a year ago, if Petros hadn’t snatched you from under my nose."

  "I don’t care about you. I just want this war to end."

  "The only way to end the war is to come here. And the only one who can do that, is you. It doesn’t matter whether you kill Cassander or not. It doesn’t matter how long you fight with the Aktida army against the pirates. The war will continue until you realize your purpose. Or until you die. Until we all die. Didn’t Petros tell you?"

  A whirl of darkness and light, spinning away like a kaleidoscope.

  A crimson sky over an unknown world. A tall hill, sparsely dotted with trees. Stones, like remnants of a giant necropolis. A man stands above it all, looking down thoughtfully… It’s Petros.

  A second man sneaks up behind him, serpent-like. A bald head, an eyepatch, a necklace of skulls on his belt. In his hand—a massive black cutlass.

  "I know why you’ve come, Cassander."

  "Do you, Petros?"

  "You broke the promise made to Saelin. You shouldn’t have come here. What’s here is meant only for me and him."

  "I can prove you wrong. You’re tired. Worn out by the road. And you’ve still not achieved your goal."

  "You’re mistaken."

  "No, I’m not."

  The whistle of a blade slicing air. A raised staff throws lightning, but Cassander easily dodges the spell and rushes closer. The enemies circle each other, sometimes closing in, sometimes separating. Cassander attacks again. Petros evades, casts a spell in passing, and a fireball ignites the hem of the pirate’s cloak. The admiral shrugs it off easily, left in cuirass, pants, and boots. He lunges, a feinting pirouette, and meets another lightning bolt with his upraised sword. The spell rebounds and strikes Petros, throwing him to the ground. Cassander is as fast as a snake.

  "See, Petros? You’re weak. You never should’ve tried to stand against me..."

  "We’ll see about that..."

  Another spell, swift as the whisper of wind... The opponents scatter again. The necropolis stones blaze in the crimson glow of a sunset over an unknown world, at an unknown time.

  Darkness.

  ***

  Ioran leaned on his spear and caught his breath. The last ray of the sun had faded over the field, and now twilight settled upon the land strewn with mounds of bodies. The remnants of the centaur army stood at the gates of Mainor, where doctors and medics bustled about, trying to find the wounded among the heaps of dead.

  The defenders of the city had gathered here as well. King Levkir, who had brought his centaurs. King Emerlun, shaking the hand of his new ally. Siegfried Maclevirr. The generals Geonar, Ringus Felm, and Telorand Elrith, who wiped the sweat from his brow. He had fought in the thick of the battle alongside his soldiers. Two officers on horseback approached them, bearing the crest of Petista. One of them dismounted, knelt on one knee, and bowed to the monarchs. Levkir patted him on the shoulder in a friendly manner:

  "I'm glad you were able to come, Yuffilis."

  "I'm glad too, and even more so that the defense was successful and we've won," the young man replied with a smile. He met the king's gaze, held it firmly, and bowed again:

  "Yuffilis Lainter, Your Majesty. I am honored to serve you... This is my friend and ally, Mr. Hugo Hellerson. Under the current circumstances, the governor of Petista personally promoted him to colonel and entrusted him with command over several divisions at once. The result of that decision is before your very eyes."

  Hugo Hellerson bowed. The king paid him no attention. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he had seen Mr. Lainter somewhere before, though he couldn’t place where.

  Yuffilis smiled, looking the king in the eyes. He also knew that the transformation into the junior assistant Ordevix could never be complete, and even with his altered appearance, Lainter’s facial features still showed through too strongly. But that no longer mattered.

  "I hope you didn’t take any prisoners? Didn’t allow anyone to escape?"

  "We managed to capture a group of officers trying to break out and flee past Ilvion to the Southern Province," Hugo Hellerson reported clearly. "They’re currently being escorted to the city. I hope the information we extract from them will prove useful to you..."

  "Excellent work, excellent..." Maclevirr rubbed his hands. "And these warriors? All from Petista? Alvens?"

  "Mostly Kalds, sir, but I can vouch for them. They have no ties to Jake Farian. This is support from Vairad. We brought everyone we could gather on very short notice, we marched for three straight weeks."

  "Congratulations on such a result," Geonar nodded. "I’ve already ordered the hospital operations to begin, as well as the digging of several mass graves. Many lives were lost here today, and although we’ve won, barely a quarter of our forces remain. We need to urgently organize a new mobilization and raise an army. Hopefully, this victory will be our first step toward liberating the Southern Province..."

  "Very well, gentlemen. I suggest we now head to the palace, they can manage without us here," said King Emerlun with a nod. "We now have a lot of time."

  "Wait," Lainter said, pointing north. "It seems someone’s coming from the direction of the ford. The bridges will need to be rebuilt..."

  "Boreain’s crest," Ringus squinted, staring at the three figures galloping at full speed on horseback.

  They didn’t have to wait long. The three riders drew close, visibly exhausted from their ride. One dismounted and looked around at the gathered crowd. His eyes were wild.

  "I see," he panted, "that the battle is over, and in victory... Your Majesty... We bring very bad news..."

  "I'm listening," the king frowned. Ringus froze, as if sensing something terrible. The others remained silent.

  "They attacked unexpectedly, at night," said the second messenger. "We defended ourselves as best we could, but they brought weapons against which our walls were powerless... They seized the fleet, the river mouth is now under their control, and the city of Boreain was looted and destroyed. The governor was killed, the entire garrison is dead—we managed to escape with a small detachment that is now moving along the far side of the river, and we rode ahead to bring... this... news."

  "The Eastern Province now belongs to him," Geonar said hoarsely. The officers and politicians said nothing. The king stood frozen, feeling fear once again awaken deep inside, whispering insistently: "Why didn’t you accept the ultimatum?"

  Half the country was now in enemy hands.

  The sun vanished behind the horizon.

  Night fell in Aktida.

  End of Book 3.

  To be continued...

  This is the end of Book 3.

  The first chapter of Book 4 will drop tomorrow! And as always, the entire Book 4 is already fully available on Patreon.

  Let me know what you think of the story so far in the comments! I would appreciate any feedback.

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