Discordant Note: Crescendo | TBATE

Chapter 298: Gladius et Corona

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Arthur Leywin

Blackbend City was bustling with activity as I stood over a war table. I narrowed my eyes as I blotted out the excess noise.

"The troops at Etistin are braced for a potential sweep from the north," Senior Captain Trodius Flamesworth said, his expression cool and collected as he arranged pieces on the war board. "Lance Zero is ready for any potential enemy assault from the north, along with a small fraction of our armies."

The dark-haired noble moved the cue to indicate the western opening of the Sehz Canal at the far reaches of the continent, where both Darv and Sapin met the sea. "The latest reports from the furthest reaches of the river claim that small skirmishes between Alacryan forces and our own men have been common, but a concerted push has not yet been made. Lances Thunderlord and Ohmwrecker both stand opposed to the former Lance Balrog, ready for any potential incursions, but the Alacryans and dwarves seem content to hold their ground for a time and build on our nerves."

I swept my eyes across the board, noting the central city of Carn. I knew from reports that Scythe Seris Vritra and Spellsong both were camped on the far banks, barely a stone's throw from the city. If they captured it, they'd sever the river supply lines in two, while also allowing their troops to travel eastward along the river to reinforce the battle a few miles south of here.

At the same time, it would be more difficult to reinforce Carn's defenders until a decisive battle was won elsewhere along the river. It was a demented house of cards, and I could see the setup Seris had laid with her three points of tension along the board. Dicathen losing a single battle could trigger a domino effect as Alacryan forces spread along the river, reinforcing other fronts in flanking maneuvers that would cut off their life's blood.

On the inverse, however, a monumental Dicathian victory at any point could also spell the doom of their forward push for the exact same reasons. Seris was playing a dangerous game, especially after what had happened with Spellsong in the castle.

"Your Majesty," Lord Flamesworth said, drawing my attention away from my inner musings, "I have summarized the current state of the southern front to the other lords who haven't been as involved in the war effort. Is there anything you might wish to add?"

I swept my gaze across the gathered nobles, ignoring the lingering wraith of King Grey among them. Flamesworth, Dreyl, Bladeheart, Ravenpor, Redner, Graves, and one more of note.

Wykes.

The small faction of corrupt nobles that still maintained a foothold of power despite my ascension to the throne was dwindling every day. With every battle I won, adept political play, and exercise of my position of Commander, they were slowly stripped of any sort of strength they once possessed.

Otis Vayhur Wykes, head of the Wykes family and all-around difficult man, stood at their head. He only kept his head because of his son's status as my Lance, but that wasn't enough to quell his ambitions.

The man lounged across from me with a gathering of his noble allies. Dreyl, Ravenpor, and a few other family heads stood in subtle alliance with him. When there were nearly twenty men in the room on my side, however, it made these cretins look remarkably pathetic.

Otis kept his long, bleached blonde hair in a ponytail. With his hair pulled away from his face, it emphasized the horrendous vertical scar right beside his left eye. His eyes were arrogant and calculating as he stared at me, but the subtlest of flexes of my mana compelled him to look down.

I could almost sense his humiliation from such a simple action. I could almost see the stamp of arrogance and disdain he'd branded into his son Lucas' soul. Otis didn't care that I'd killed his son. He cared that I, a commoner, defied the Wykes family, as he said under his breath and behind closed doors.