"Our lord will arrive at the outskirts of the capital at any moment," said the mage in a curt tone. "By then, we’d better be there, triton. Otherwise, you’ll know his wrath."

  Kulad merely tugged at the reins of the horses pulling the cart, not wanting to test the human’s patience. In the short time he had been in service to that pest, he had realized how effortlessly Heagg could incinerate an enemy warrior with a single spell, without even flinching.

  “An idiot like him wouldn’t last two seconds underwater, but in this increasingly dense jungle, his abilities are a real danger. Better do as he says if I don’t want to end up tortured like the other stragglers.”

  Heagg was the perfect image of kindness and flattering words when addressing his master, the brutish yet disproportionately powerful warrior Hunn. But to those under his command, he was a tyrant. He had no qualms about using his magical powers to inflict severe burns at the slightest provocation if he was in a good mood—or incinerate anyone to death if his patience was pushed too far.

  At that moment, the caravan of carts and riders was advancing along a path that was becoming increasingly thick, surrounded by tall trees, dense underbrush, and colorful birds that scattered in terror as soon as they saw the army cutting inexorably through the jungle's depths.

  Although Kulad was an expert rider thanks to his experience with dolphins underwater, handling the reins of the cart was a completely different story. And the increasingly swampy path certainly didn’t help.

  But to the wrinkled old Heagg, none of that mattered. He constantly reminded Kulad how easy it would be to roast him like a salmon if he didn’t make the cart move as fast as possible.

  The triton hated him, just as he hated the big brute Hunn, who was likely galloping somewhere in the jungle at that moment, smashing the skulls of any locals who crossed his path.

  "We’ll reach the town these Indians call their capital at the same time as Lord Hunn, but it’d be better if he sees us from a distance—or I promise you, we’ll have problems. He wants his provisions for the battle and won’t tolerate a group of incompetents failing to deliver them on time," Heagg reminded them repeatedly.

  They had left Qilari four nights earlier, under the cover of the deepest darkness, to keep the spies hidden in the jungle from learning their plans.

  Since then, Kulad had barely had a bite to eat—much like the meager rations he’d received while chained in the dungeons of the fortress city, where they had kept him like a pig. He felt too weak even to drive the horses forward.

  But the mage didn’t care.

  “I pray that, in a fit of rage, he kills me. That way, I can reappear in Coral City, even if it takes several weeks,” thought the triton as the intense sun filtering through the trees burned his injuries. “But I know the mage isn’t that stupid. He needs me, especially after the feat I accomplished in Qilari and my role in taking the city that had been impregnable until then. I’m certain the brute Hunn wouldn’t hesitate to run his great sword through the pyromancer if he found out Heagg had killed me.”

  “Better keep driving these beasts, or they’ll tie me to a tree and let the crows feast on my body while the healers make sure I don’t die.”

  Night soon fell upon the world, but they were not allowed to rest their battered limbs. The order was clear: they had to reach the outskirts of Ramenna as quickly as possible to begin the assault.

  Kulad no longer thought of his family, who had most certainly succumbed to hunger or, at best, were reduced to slavery by the triton lords of the deep. His thoughts were solely on what would happen in the coming hours once they reached the city: a battle much like the one that had taken place in Qilari would unfold. He would be healed by the healers of his burns and exhaustion, only to be thrown into his aquatic transformation in one of the streams surrounding the great port city or directly into the sea. There, he would find the sewer systems and guide the elite troops of the Aneitas, catching the defenders off guard.

  Once the city fell, attacked from two fronts, the triton would once again be bound hand and foot in the dungeons, barely kept alive until his services were required again. Just as it had happened in Qilari.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  The only difference was that, in the fortress city they had taken, only a lake served as the vulnerable point. It was precisely there that Kulad had found a way to penetrate its defenses, while the local guard repelled the foreign forces at the city's walled front. The defenders laughed at the attackers, confident in the height of their walls and the boiling oil, until they saw the colossal Hunn and his vanguard storm through the other side, massacring everything in their path.

  Soon, they cut through the city like a tornado, reaching the walls where they opened the gates, allowing the bulk of their forces to enter and take the legendary Qilari in two days—something other armies had failed to achieve after years of siege.

  “Although that damned Hunn is as big as a mountain giant, he’s not as stupid as he should be. It’s incredible that he can balance strength and intelligence like that. With a general like him, there’s little the Ixtalites can do to stop the invasion.”

  That jungle-shrouded country meant nothing to him, but he hated Hunn and wanted him to fail at all costs. If it meant his own death, allowing him to be reborn in the depths of his beloved sea, so much the better.

  While the triton had been clever enough to locate the sewers amidst the muck, the entire plan had been orchestrated by the mighty foreigner.

  Enduring the obscene curses and burns inflicted by the mage Heagg, Kulad managed to push the cart forward through the muddy road until dawn, surrounded by hundreds of torches.

  Then they reached a small village of huts and narrow, tangled paths where passage became even more difficult. The tan-skinned, straight-haired villagers dared not confront the enemy troops, though their dark eyes sang a different tune.

  They gazed with deep hostility at each of the warriors passing through their tiny settlement, as if at any moment they might draw their bows and swords to fight back. Kulad returned their hostile stares, hoping that some villager would resolve to give him the death he so desperately longed for, sending him back to the depths—but it never happened.

  Although the rains had left the village roads as muddy as the jungle’s paths, the horses managed to press on with their riders and carts, and soon they were back in open terrain. Suddenly, the landscape changed, and the roads widened as they drew closer to the coast.

  The rains paused briefly, and under the overcast sky, Kulad could recognize the stone pyramids of the Ixtalite capital in the distance.

  “You’ve done well, little fish,” said Heagg as he crossed paths with him on his black stallion. “Now, we only have to pass through one more small village, and we’ll meet with our lord to finish conquering the few cities this endless jungle harbors.”

  The deep blue of the sea became visible to the advancing army, snaking like an iron serpent along the increasingly broad roads. It filled Kulad’s heart with nostalgia, knowing that beneath that azure expanse, thousands of tritons moved freely through the waters, hunting fish and sharks of all kinds—whether out of necessity or sheer joy.

  He felt the urge to mount one of the carts’ horses and gallop to the shore to lose himself in the waters, but he knew it would be useless. Heagg would find a way to reach him long before he got near the coast, and the consequences would be disastrous.

  After a couple of hours of slow progress through the muddy paths, they reached the last village before the capital—a cluster of huts like the previous one, but slightly larger, with more intricate roads.

  The villagers were as submissive as before, but the terrain posed the real challenge. The streets were so bogged down that the carts became stuck and could not move forward. Kulad and the other riders had to dismount and start pushing, but it was all in vain. The road was too swampy.

  “Damn it!” shouted Heagg, his sinewy body surrounded by an aura of fire. “If this is some trick by these Indians, I swear I’ll burn every last one of them to ashes.”

  The villagers simply watched the carts and the unwelcome guests with their deep, dark eyes filled with aversion.

  The Aneita warriors forced the villagers to help, but the wooden wheels of the carts wouldn’t budge from the mud.

  Kulad had no choice but to open the interior of his cargo, filled with gold and mana potions, which drew curious glances from the locals.

  “Hurry up!” yelled Heagg furiously. “We need to get this cargo to the city, even if you have to carry it yourselves!”

  Hours of hard labor passed as they hauled the minerals and magical potions through the puddles and mud. Over time, an enormous makeshift depot of valuables for the invaders took shape in an open field.

  As the Aneita soldiers and their auxiliaries grew exhausted from carrying the supplies, a horn blared fiercely through the nearby trees.

  A small glimmer of hope sparked within Kulad as he saw hundreds of archers and swordsmen emerge from all directions. The terrified villagers retreated into their homes to avoid the battle about to unfold in their village.

  “Everyone, to arms!” roared Heagg, furious, as he began hurling fireballs at the first brave souls who fell upon the defenders of the loot. “I’ll be watching. Anyone who doesn’t fight is a dead man!”

  Kulad managed to spot three heroes leading the enemy vanguard, cutting through the first defenders like the tip of a spear. They were a burly swordsman, a mage, and an archer. A fourth hero, clad in strange garments and radiating a much weaker aura than the others but with a fierce appearance, arrived galloping with a long spear in hand. He rode a creature resembling a horse but with a long neck and wool-covered body.

  “A llama.”

  Grabbing his trident, Kulad prepared to fight, defending the spoils of men he hated. With any luck, one of those jungle heroes would finally kill him, sending him back to his beloved sea.