A general born to rule

The next move

King George's Wrath

In the grand hall of his castle, King George sat upon his ornate throne, a smug smile plastered across his face as he awaited the news of his army’s victory. He envisioned the total destruction of Valorcrest, the small kingdom that had dared to defy him. He saw its people on their knees, begging for mercy, and the lands he would conquer to further expand his empire. The very thought made him swell with pride, confident in the invincibility of his forces.

The doors to the hall creaked open, and a messenger entered, his face pale and his steps hesitant. He held a scroll in trembling hands, his eyes downcast as he approached the throne. King George’s smirk widened as he saw the messenger approach, his mind already relishing the victory he was about to hear.

But as the messenger unrolled the scroll and began to speak, the king’s smile slowly faded. His eyes narrowed, his knuckles whitened as he gripped the arms of his throne.

“Your Majesty, the army… they… they were defeated,” the messenger stammered. “The traps in the forest, the defenses at Valorcrest—they were too strong. Our forces were decimated, and only a few have returned…”

The words hung in the air like a death sentence. For a moment, the hall was deathly silent. King George’s face twisted in rage, his veins bulging at his temples. The calm façade he had maintained shattered as he grabbed the silver goblet on the table beside him and hurled it across the room. The goblet struck the messenger square in the chest, knocking him to the ground.

“You useless wretch!” King George bellowed, his voice echoing through the hall. He rose from his throne, storming down the steps toward the trembling messenger. “How dare you bring me such disgraceful news! A rabble of farmers and peasants defeated my army? Impossible! It must be your fault—your incompetence!”

The messenger scrambled to his feet, bowing repeatedly in a desperate attempt to appease the king. “Your Majesty, please, I’m only relaying what—”

“Silence!” King George roared, striking the messenger across the face with the back of his hand. The man crumpled to the floor, clutching his cheek as tears of pain and fear welled in his eyes. “Get out of my sight before I have your head! And send for my generals—now!”

As the messenger scrambled to obey, King George stood seething in the middle of the hall. His fury was palpable, a dark storm cloud of anger that filled the room. His plans, his ambitions, were now in jeopardy. The mere thought of being outsmarted and outfought by such a small, insignificant kingdom was unbearable. He would make them pay for this humiliation—tenfold.

Marcus Pushes the Frontlines

Meanwhile, back in Valorcrest, Marcus was far from resting on the laurels of their recent victory. The first major battle had been won, but he knew that King George would not give up so easily. He would regroup, rebuild his forces, and strike again. But Marcus was determined to be ready.

With the victory at hand, Marcus ordered the establishment of new military camps closer to King George’s kingdom. Using his knowledge from his past life, he understood the importance of maintaining momentum and pushing the front lines forward. The camps were strategically placed to secure key points, control supply routes, and serve as bases for launching future offensives.

As the soldiers began constructing the camps, Marcus oversaw the digging of new trenches and the strengthening of defenses. The trenches were fortified with barbed wire, reinforced with timber and sandbags, and positioned in such a way that any advancing enemy would face a deadly crossfire. He also ordered the construction of additional bunkers and lookout towers, ensuring that their forces would have the upper hand in any future engagement.