Rhett thrust his sword forward, sinking the blade deep into the gut of a Drurus soldier. The man fell to one knee, grasping the blade going into his stomach, as if he could stop his own death. Blood bubbled up from his lips, and his wide, panicked eyes locked onto Rhett’s. But the young king felt nothing. No sympathy. No hesitation. With a yank, he ripped the sword free, letting the soldier collapse onto the ground.

  The battlefield around him was chaos. The sound of steel hitting steel filled the air, mixing with the cries of the wounded and dying. Rhett’s muscles tightened, ready for the next strike. But as he turned, searching for another enemy to cut down, something else caught his attention.

  The Drurus soldiers were running.

  They weren’t regrouping or rallying together. They were retreating and going west toward the line of trees at the edge of the battlefield. Rhett’s brows furrowed as he tightened the grip on his sword. His gaze went across the field, following the fleeing soldiers, and then—he saw him.

  Kohen…

  Steam rose from the young king’s shoulders as his dragon stirred violently beneath his skin. At one point, Rhett had called that man a friend. They had trained together, fought together, shared drinks and late-night conversations about women, war, and what the future might hold. But now, as he watched Kohen flee like a coward, all Rhett saw was red.

  Kohen had been one of the men who left with Emmett. He had been by his brother’s side constantly in the year during his decline. And he probably had a hand in poisoning him…

  Let me out!

  Silas’s voice thundered through Rhett’s mind, desperate to be unleashed. To chase. To tear Kohen apart.

  Rhett’s grip on his sword tightened until his knuckles turned white. He wanted to go after Kohen. He should go after him.

  His foot shifted forward before he stopped. Between them and Kohen was a battlefield filled with bodies—some dead, others dying. With the amount of blood on the ground, it was hard to tell who was his soldier and who was the enemy.

  However, it wasn’t just the aftermath of the fighting that caused Rhett to hesitate. He had seen the wagons carrying the large crossbows heading for the woods. Anti-dragon weapons… Designed to pierce scales in order to bring down creatures like Silas.

  Rhett clenched his jaw before letting out a heavy sigh.

  Not now, he forced himself to say, shoving Silas back. The dragon fought him, snarling in protest, but Rhett’s will held. We can’t risk it. They’d kill us before we even reached Kohen.

  “Rhett!”

  The young king turned as Tristan sprinted toward him. His armor was smeared with blood, but the young lord looked unharmed for the most part.

  “Should we follow them?”

  Rhett dragged a hand down his face before finally sheathing his sword.

  “No.”

  Tristan hesitated, glancing anxiously at the retreating soldiers.

  “But—”

  “We need to regroup,” Rhett interrupted. He turned toward the east, looking at the city of Jux. “And we need to figure out who the hell was attacking Drurus’s men from that side.”

  Tristan followed his gaze, furrowing his brows in confusion.

  “Wait, that wasn’t our men from Onlon?”

  “I don’t see any banners,” Rhett murmured as he narrowed his eyes. He knew what his men looked like in battle—the formations, the insignias on their chest plates. None of that was present in the eastern fight. “And even if it was Onlon’s forces, they should be coming from the north with Jesup. Not from the east.”

  Tristan straightened, standing on his toes to get a better look at the skirmish that was still happening near the city. Most of the Drurus men had run to the west, but a few remained, fighting the unknown group.

  “Mercenaries, maybe?” He suggested.

  Rhett let out an unconvinced grunt. Mercenaries fought for coin, but he had paid for none.

  After about a minute of debating who it was, Riven’s horn echoed across the battlefield. Rhett glanced over to the left, exhaling loudly when he noticed the men approaching them. With a roll of his shoulders, he turned back to Tristan.

  “Go,” he ordered. “Find out who the hell those men from the east are. Stop the fighting, but make sure the remaining Drurus soldiers don’t slip away. I don’t want them retreating just to regroup and strike again.”

  Tristan gave a firm nod before raising his arm, signaling for a handful of nearby soldiers to follow him as he sprinted toward the eastern skirmish.

  With that handled, Rhett turned his attention to several of his men who stood nearby, looking through the dead. He whistled loudly, catching their attention. They looked up, dropping what they were doing to rush to their king.

  “Are you all faring well?” Rhett inquired when they approached.

  “Yes, sire, no fatal wounds,” one answered, wiping a streak of red from his cheek.

  “Good,” Rhett nodded. “Start gathering any able-bodied soldier and search the battlefield. Look for anyone still breathing and take them to the west side of the city walls. We need to set up an infirmary. The healers from camp will take time to get here, so in the meantime, gather whoever you can from within Jux. Anyone with medical knowledge—Masters of Herbs, midwives, hell, even barkeeps if they know how to stitch a wound.”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  The soldiers wasted no time, scattering across the battlefield to follow his orders. With the wounded handled and the unknown forces from the east being dealt with, Rhett turned his gaze back to the Riven soldiers.

  As the young king stepped forward, weaving around the fallen, he found himself focusing on the man leading the group. He was tall, with greying dreadlocks pulled back from his face. His short beard was mostly white, with bits of black scattered in the hairs.

  Rhett’s eyes lit up when he finally recognized the man. This was Jadiel, Sariah’s cousin. It had been years—decades, even—since he had last seen him. And now, he was here, leading the group of Riven soldiers.

  “Jadiel?” Rhett called out in disbelief when they were within a few yards of one another.

  “Rhett!” The older man replied with a smile on his face.

  “Well I’ll be,” Rhett exhaled, shaking Jadiel’s hand. “What in Eena’s name are you doing here? Last I heard, you were still commanding Riven’s fleet. I didn’t expect to find you on land.”

  “A fair question,” Jadiel chuckled. “But when I heard you were going to war with Drurus and that you called for aid from Riven, I made a personal request to be sent to the front. Figured it was time to see if my legs were still land-worthy.”

  Rhett’s lips twitched, but he could see through Jadiel’s half-cocked reasoning. A man didn’t abandon the sea for mere curiosity. However, rather than press it, Rhett looked around at the men walking past them.

  “You looking for the dragon prince?”

  “Yes,” Rhett nodded as he continued searching for Ashur. “I just wanted to ensure he wasn’t getting himself into trouble.”

  “Well, he’s not going to be down here. We left him stationed in the mountainside,” Jadiel explained. “Some of our men set up anti-dragon weapons that Yasir insisted we take. The Crown Father thinks that Arnav or one of his horde will fly out this way. So, he wanted us to be prepared.”

  Rhett nodded slowly, but before he could respond, a commotion in the distance drew his attention. Shouts echoed from just outside the city walls, and Rhett turned to see what was happening. That's when he noticed a large group of Drurus soldiers marching toward Jux from the east.

  “Eena’s Wrath!” He growled. “Those are the men put out along the roadside to ambush us.”

  Without another word, Rhett rushed forward. Behind him, Jadiel shouted orders, and without hesitation, the Riven men followed the young king.

  By the time he reached the other side of Jux, things were different from what Rhett had expected. There was no fighting or fierce struggle. Instead, it was just loud voices shouting while weapons were raised in the air. The Drurus soldiers, outnumbered and leaderless, had been cornered quickly before a fight could even begin.

  However, Rhett could feel the tension in the air, and he knew it would only take one stubborn man taking a swing at his soldiers for the fighting to start. So, to get them to surrender, the young king took a deep breath, merging his voice with Silas’s.

  “Enough!”

  The roar echoed across the land. It caused ringing in the ears of those who heard while silencing the chaos in an instant. The Drurus soldiers stumbled back, clutching onto their weapons with trembling hands.

  “Your army is gone!” Rhett growled as he walked closer to the men. “Your leaders abandoned you. There is no victory for you here. Surrender now, or die where you stand.”

  The Drurus men exchanged glances until, one by one, they tossed their weapons to the ground, raising their hands in surrender. Rhett stood tall, motioning for his soldiers to tie up the Drurus men. After ensuring that all would cooperate and none would fight against him or his men, the young king turned toward the crowd behind him, searching for Tristan. He barely had time to look before he noticed his friend squeezing past the soldiers.

  “Rhett!” He called out as he neared the edge of the crowd.

  Close behind him was another man whom Rhett recognized instantly. Joel.

  “Found the mercenaries who were making trouble,” Tristan joked, gesturing over his shoulder.

  Rhett huffed, rolling his eyes as he tried to hide his smirk. Without hesitation, he extended his hand toward Joel. The older man blinked in surprise, clearly taken aback. Rhett was no longer just the prince he had worked on proposals with—he was now a king. The thought of shaking his hand felt wrong, but Joel’s hesitation lasted only a second. He took Rhett’s hand in a firm grip.

  “It’s good to see you, Joel,” the young man said sincerely. “I’m glad you made it through the siege of Jux.”

  “I was wondering how long it would take before you showed up,” Joel smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. “But I’m glad to see you, too. Things were getting… tense here. Resources are stretched thin.”

  “We shall help where we can,” Rhett assured. “But I’m afraid we won’t be here long. A few days, maybe.”

  “Hopefully not even that long,” Jadiel interjected as he approached the men. “We should be heading west—sooner rather than later.”

  “To chase after the Drurus army?” Joel inquired with an arched brow.

  “Yes,” Rhett nodded curtly before turning his attention to Jadiel. “But not today.”

  Jadiel huffed impatiently, clearly frustrated by having to wait.

  “It would be wiser to strike now before Drurus can regroup. The longer we wait, the more time they’ll have to recover and fortify their army. If we allow them to do that, this war will just become a constant push and pull. Nothing gained on either side.”

  Rhett frowned as his jaw tightened. He opened his mouth to argue, but Joel quickly chimed in.

  “I agree with the foreigner,” Joel said bluntly. “Drurus is on the run. If you push now—or within the next day—you’ll keep them running. Give them time, and they’ll be standing at our borders, ready for another fight.”

  Rhett’s gaze shifted toward Tristan’s, seeking his friend’s opinion. But the young lord remained silent, which was enough of an answer for Rhett. If Tristan had disagreed with the others, he would have said so.

  An uncomfortable knot twisted in Rhett’s chest. He could see the logic in their arguments, and in reality, he did have an agreement with Riven to invade Drurus from the east. However, his attention was drawn to the battlefield in the distance. The wounded were still being carried to makeshift tents, and the city of Jux was suffering, with its people barely surviving the siege. Not only that, but he also had over a hundred Drurus prisoners to deal with.

  He scowled as he ran a hand down his face.

  “There’s a lot to deal with here,” he said firmly. “The wounded need tending. The city needs provisions.”

  “You do know you don’t need to be here for things to run,” Tristan commented firmly. “You can leave one or several of our captains to oversee these things.”

  “Or you can just leave it to me,” Joel offered. “I’m not planning to follow your army into Drurus—neither are most of the townsfolk. We just wanted our city to be free. And now that it is, I can focus on other things.”

  Rhett studied Joel for several long seconds. He couldn’t see any fault or reason to argue against Joel taking charge of the rebuilding effort for Jux. In fact, if Rhett had to trust one person to do it, it would be him… With a reluctant sigh, he finally nodded.

  “Fine,” Rhett said at last. “You’ll stay and manage things here. I’ll appoint you as an advisor to the king; that way you—”

  “I don’t think that would be necessary,” Joel interrupted with a frown.

  “It’s non-negotiable,” Rhett stated firmly. “It shall give you the authority you need to reach out to other cities for aid, supplies, or reinforcements if needed. But this way, no one will question your word.”

  Joel’s scowl deepened, but he didn’t argue further. Rhett knew that he hated being given the title and would probably ask for it to be rescinded once everything settled down. However, the young king wouldn’t do that. Joel was someone that Rhett could trust to put others first before the crown, and not view his position as a way to add to his own pockets.

  “Now that that’s settled,” Jadiel interjected as he crossed his arms. “Are we heading out?”

  “Once my men from Onlon arrive, yes,” Rhett replied without hesitation. When Jadiel opened his mouth to argue, Rhett raised a hand to stop him. “Drurus’s army still outnumbers us—we were just lucky today that we caught them off guard and attacked from three sides. I can’t even begin to imagine how many more men they have across the border. Charging in now, without reinforcements, would be reckless.”

  He then looked over the group, straightening his back as he took a commanding stance.

  “Take this moment to rest. See to your men. Tend to your wounds and replenish your strength. We’ll move when the time is right.”