Chapter 48

48

O ne of the commanders jogged up to my position at the rear of the army. “They’re retreating, My King,” he panted, wiping sweat from his brow despite the chilly night air.

“Retreating?” I questioned, accepting his outstretched spyglass and training it across the battlefield. Sure enough, through the dim light of the fires and the sliver of moon, tens of thousands of soldiers raced toward the rocky cliffs and narrow paths that led into the Agrenak Mountains. The Dragons that had relentlessly flown overhead followed them, some stopping to pick up riders before soaring away. A wicked grin rolled off my face, and I strode forward in search of my generals.

I found Vadim and Viktor covered in blood and surrounded by limping infantry, most dropping onto logs around roaring fires. Healers tended to the wounded, the most injured carried in the arms of their uninjured brethren and settled side by side.

“Why is everyone relaxing? We need to follow them into the mountains. We can’t let them get away,” I insisted, running a hand over my face in frustration.

Vadim and Viktor exchanged a look.

“We will. But they’re on the run now, and sending scouts to search for them will help us plan our attack better,” Viktor explained.

“It should only be a few hours before we attack again, and in the meantime, our soldiers could use some rest and a hot meal,” Vadim added in a rush.

I nodded, scanning the area. Already, cooks were handing out hot bowls of stew and bread. Blood coated the hands and faces of my legions, but they didn’t care as they sucked down every morsel.

“Fine,” I relented, but the binding magic in my chest beat its protest against my ribcage, thirsting for release. I’d yet to let it play in battle, and it hated me for it. But tonight, I would unleash it and let it eat to its fill. “When you send the scout, have them search for Ruslan specifically. It’s time he dies.”

“Consider it done,” Vadim said, striding off quickly, hopefully to relay my orders. Viktor dipped his chin and then raced after him.

I wasn’t alone for long. Desmond sauntered up, his hands tucked behind his back. “My King, what a great victory you have won. You’re going to rule this continent before tomorrow night, I think.”

I hummed my acknowledgement, looking up to the stars and moon. Their light caressed my face, and my name echoed in my ears.

Kazimir…

Kazimir…

Kazimir…

Three haunted voices wove together, and I closed my eyes, allowing the Fates to fill me. The last time they’d done this, I’d been gifted this binding magic that made me the king of the Night Realm.

Yes, our pet, you must use it to fight…

The voices wrapped around my ears like slithering snakes.

You are our chosen one…

Because I was a hero, no doubt. I would save all of északi from the ruin Ruslan and Izidora promised. Goddess’s Prophecy be damned, I would not be a fallen king.

A touch on my arm brought me back to the present, and Desmond looked at me like he had asked a question.

“What was that?” I snapped, irritated that the Mage had interrupted my time with the Fates.

“My King, I asked if you need to rest or anything to eat.”

I waved him off. “No, but you may fetch all leaders of the army and bring them to the war tent. We have the next wave of our attack to plan.”

He sketched a bow, then hurried off. I spun on my heel and strode, shoulders back and chin proud, toward my accommodations, relishing the victory I had won and the metallic sting of blood against my nostrils.

More blood would be shed by morning.

And with the breaking of dawn, I would be king of the whole continent.

“The Iron Realm has retreated to just inside the line of mountains, where the cliffs start steeper and the path begins to narrow.” The scout swiped a towel across his sweaty face, accepting a waterskin from Vadim. “There are some flat spots, and the path leading up to it is wide enough to fight about five hundred across.”

“Sounds like they didn’t go very far,” Viktor mused, bracing his hands on the wood table in front of him. “What if we send some troops on the ground, and have the rest fly in from various directions?”

The scout sipped the water, then swiped his forearm across his mouth. “I think it would be doable. I couldn’t see their entire camp, but it’s bare bones at best. They had fires scattered throughout the area, so they’re not concentrated in one location.”

Viktor nodded slowly, running his hands across his dark hair to smooth it into place. It was clear he was thinking through all options and potential obstacles. “How many archers do we have left?”

Vadim shrugged, tugging on his tangled beard and uncrossing his legs to lean forward. “We lost a lot to the Dragons, so our bow supplies are limited. But we can arm anyone with a halfway decent shot.”

“See that the remaining ones are passed out, along with the poison to dip the arrows in,” Viktor instructed the scout, who understood the dismissal and took his leave.

“Where would you like to be among the army, Kazimir?” Vadim asked, not meeting my gaze.

“It is time I show the Iron Realm the true might of the Night Realm,” I declared. “I’ll be flying in toward the front.”

Vadim’s lips twitched up at the corners. “I think that is a brilliant idea, My King.”

“I agree,” Viktor hurriedly added, rapping the table with his knuckles. “It will be good for the males to see you in action. Inspiring them to continue the battle.”

I nodded, chest swelling as they complimented my fighting skills. “Dawn is fast approaching, and we need to engage them before the day breaks. We are stronger at night. Let’s finish this.”

Pushing back from my seat, I strode toward the exit, the cold night air kissing my cheeks as the moon greeted me. Vadim and Viktor split off behind me, hurrying to gather and organize our forces to move out. The low hum of activity soon turned into a roar, the cacophony of clanking metal, sizzling fires, and heavy footfalls satisfying the part of me that thirsted for the blood of my enemies.

The first few groups of fliers departed not even half an hour later, taking off in two directions to loop around and attack in opposite directions. Footsoldiers winked out of existence by the unit, the Mage power taught by Desmond coming in handy time and time again. When Viktor returned to me, his face was set with grim determination.

“It is time,” he said, unfurling his wings and taking to the sky.

I did the same, allowing an updraft to lift me higher as I raced after him, falling in behind a group headed straight toward the path that led into the Agrenak Mountains. Zherzha Pass waited for us, and the irony that the most dangerous border crossing in all of északi was where the last battle would occur was not lost on me.

It would only ensure my legacy lived on for millenia, speaking of the prowess of the Night Realm defeating the Iron Realm in their own territory.

The thought filled me with vicious glee.

We flew over the infantry moving silently, stealthily, as they crept toward the new battlefield. In the air, no one spoke as we approached. The leader of the unit flew higher, and Viktor and I followed, a chill passing over us as we broke through some low-hanging clouds.

The fires grew larger as we approached, and I glanced to either side, searching for the telltale shimmer of feathered wings. We boxed in the Iron Realm’s army, and the clouds thickened, covering the moon and blotting out the stars. The night couldn’t have gotten any darker right as we prepared to attack. I smiled to myself as I dove.

The Fates had blessed me, and they were ensuring I would win.