Night had fallen over the plains of Solm, shrouding the landscape in darkness. The tall grasses swayed under the cold breeze, and in the shadows, Kael's army waited, crouched like predators in the night.

  The plan was simple but risky: attack Aldric before he reached the capital. A well-placed ambush could disorganize his army and slow his advance. But if something went wrong, Kael and his men would be trapped between Aldric’s forces and the capital’s walls.

  Kael knelt on a small hill overlooking the main road. Beside him, Darius watched the flickering torches of the enemy army snaking through the valley.

  — "They're advancing slowly."

  Lysara, crouched in the shadow of a rock, whispered calmly:

  — "They've sent scouts ahead. They sense something is wrong."

  Kael clenched his jaw. Aldric was no fool. He knew he was vulnerable on this road.

  — "If we wait too long, he’ll discover our position."

  Darius nodded.

  — "Then we strike now."

  Kael raised his hand, a silent signal to his men. In the darkness, figures began to move, blades glinting faintly under the moonlight.

  The attack began.

  A scream tore through the night as a volley of arrows rained down on Aldric’s front lines. Cries of pain filled the air, and the enemy camp was thrown into chaos.

  Kael leaped onto his horse and drew his sword.

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  — "Attack!"

  Shadows surged from the plains like a black tide, crashing into Aldric’s disoriented soldiers. The first ranks fell under the brutal impact of the charge.

  Kael plunged into the melee, his blade slicing through flesh and steel. A soldier lunged at him with a spear, but he sidestepped fluidly and drove his sword into the man's throat.

  Behind him, Darius struck with relentless force, shattering skulls and breaking shields with each blow. Lysara, on the other hand, danced between combatants, striking swiftly and precisely, her daggers finding the gaps in their armor.

  Chaos reigned.

  Aldric, shouting orders to his captains, struggled to restore order in his ranks.

  — "Tighten the lines! Hold your ground!"

  But Kael wouldn’t give them the chance.

  — "Destroy their flanks!" he commanded.

  A group of enemy cavalry attempted to outflank them, but Kael had anticipated it. Hidden pikes in the tall grass suddenly sprang up, skewering the horses and sending their riders crashing to the ground.

  The earth was now stained red with blood, littered with bodies.

  Kael cut down another soldier before spotting Aldric at the center of the battlefield.

  The old general wore dark armor, his face lined with the scars of past wars. His eyes burned with anger and defiance.

  — "Kael!" he growled. "You're a coward who hides in the shadows. Face me like a true warrior!"

  Kael wiped the blood from his blade and smirked.

  — "If you insist."

  Aldric charged, his sword swinging like a lightning bolt. Kael barely parried in time, stepping back under the force of the blow.

  The duel was fierce. Aldric attacked with brute strength, trying to overwhelm Kael with powerful strikes. But Kael, faster, dodged and searched for an opening.

  A missed swing from Aldric exposed a weakness. Kael pivoted and drove his blade into the general’s side.

  Aldric grunted in pain but did not fall. He grabbed Kael by the collar, attempting to drag him down with him.

  Kael retaliated by stabbing a dagger into Aldric’s throat.

  The old general collapsed, his eyes devoid of life.

  Around them, enemy soldiers saw their commander fall, and their morale crumbled. Some fled, while others dropped their weapons.

  The battle was won.

  The battlefield was a graveyard.

  Darius leaned on his sword, breathing heavily.

  — "We won. But at what cost?"

  Kael surveyed the dead, the wounded, the blood-soaked grass.

  Lysara approached.

  — "The princess awaits our report."

  Kael nodded. There was no time to celebrate.

  He had won a battle, but the war had only just begun.