Steso's capital, Grastle, is a fortress like few in the world exist. It is built on a tall hill atop solid bedrock even the Rykz would be hard pressed to tunnel into. Even with that advantage, the tall and thick ramparts are inclined to prevent sappers from undermining them.

Around those are two smaller concentric walls that serve to both protect the low-borough and delay any surprise attack so that the population can evacuate to the expansive keep serving as Steso's seat of government.

Lord Fallone has a manor not far from this keep that he observes from his office's window on the first floor. His expression is lost under the bandages covering his burnt face. He is surrounded by books and treaties yet none contain answers to help him at this time.

His house hasn't lost the Duchy, but it may happen if his audience with the Queen goes wrong. Yet, he cannot quit because those who fought under his command depend on him to restore their honor.

The Court hasn't put forward a motion of censure but the lack of reward and ceremony are insults of their own that will plague these soldiers for the rest of their lives, simply for having belonged to the Twelfth, simply for having fought and died in desperate battles not of their making.

“I've failed them all.” Fallone utters in despair with his now permanently distorted voice.

“Only Marshal Ciervo saw it coming, but he understood far too late for it to matter.” Templar Remus says with an empty voice.

“Where is the Exemplar?” Fallone croaks out.

“She's hunting Rykz with a company in the south, I do not believe either of us will see her again in this life.” Remus says, slowly shaking his head with half-closed eyelids. “She took our defeat hard and intends to keep fighting until the Emperor recalls her, which won't happen because He will ask what her wishes are and, even if He disagrees, will allow her to keep trying to atone for a fault not of her own.”

“What a waste.” Fallone murmurs, thinking not only of the Exemplar's behavior. “Have you received the latest report?”

“Five villages burnt to the ground, making a thousand refugees and a few hundred dead, mostly low born.” Remus utters with a tremble in his voice. “The crops are irrecoverable and a dozen more villages had their livestock smashed into bits to be devoured.”

“Seven villages now, and one town in the south-east is half-destroyed.” Fallone corrects.

“It would have been much worse if we hadn't stood in their way and forced them to engage us.” Remus argues with a pit in his stomach. “How did they reach that town with the Tenth's supply line in their way?”

“The insects attacked several positions from the north and looped around our response.” Lord Fallone grunts. “Kh.” He coughs into a handkerchief, leaving scattered red spots on the cloth. “Most of the thousand scouts died but the warriors made it out of the walls after their bloody deed was done.”

“They'll be able to catch warriors.” The Templar argues with a sad expression.

“They have, at the last news the insects entrenched in a creek. The battle is likely over by now but Steso will have taken more losses it can't afford.” Fallone mutters as he turns away from the window.

“You can't let the Court get under your skin like this, you did what you had to do and won.” Remus argues.

“This victory feels more and more like a defeat the more reports the Queen sends me.” Fallone chokes out, his traits twist painfully under his bandages.

“Queen Victorus is the one who kept you updated?” Remus asks with widening irises.

“Hrm.” Fallone grunts in acknowledgment.

The Templar falls silent, having lost his words at the revelation. He can't help but judge the woman cruel for doing this. Perhaps it would have been worse to keep the man in the dark but she did not have to send him the raw reports which include a count of the casualties.

--- --- ---

A column of seven thousand Rykz warriors followed by two thousand workers with a thousand scouts spread out in squads of ten surveying their surroundings march towards the Contested Lowland's southern bridge.

This is a significant force by any species' standard but it becomes deadly when led by a Princess, in this case Fenyz of the Silver Hive wearing a Vuskyt cuirass and armed with Vuskyt spearheads.

Her cores are almost vibrating with impatience as she stomps forth at the center of her detachment, her mission to secure the bridge but her emotions pointing to the future, towards Cetyz who she had to leave behind because Grikyz will not allow the Princess to travel far from her side.

An awkward situation she believes will last for most of the following century. Fenyz lets out a breath of air from the breathing holes around her ovaloid head and exudes a puff of pheromones to send out a handful of scouts to gather her patrols' reports.

They soon return with news that they smelled iron, steel, and humans in large numbers to the north. While the Empire has not attempted to secure this bridge in recent years because allowing Lisilese hordes to travel north and fight the Rykz benefits them more than overextending their lines in spring, Fenyz had predicted they would do so this year because of their offensive.

She ponders on the information but quickly pauses when a scout tells her that a patrol caught the whiff of horses and reptiles, in that order, to the south. Fenyz' crosses a few tendrils as her cores join in deep thought.

[The battle for the Lowlands should not have begun this early, and in fact it did not or my scouts would have smelt blood in the air.] She utters for herself alone. [Have the Bloody Claws ventured so far east to help pressure Haitia? No, they would have had to travel parallel to us so either it isn't them, or they intent to breach the agreement somewhere the other Hordes won't hear of it anytime soon.]

Rhyy. She whines in displeasure and orders a halt, choosing to setup a fortified camp to wait for the sun to slumber because she does not wish to approach the humans with Lisilese at her back.

The Empire is also the reason she chooses to wait for nightfall, while there is no advantage for the Rykz in fighting the Lisilese in the so-called darkness, the human army is very unlikely to mount an expedition on the plains in the middle of the night because they would be at a handicap.

She orders her warriors to unpack stacks of javelins with their three-pronged claws while the workers begin digging shallow trenches. Then, she reorganizes her scout patrols to pinpoint the location and number of Lisilese in the area.

--- --- ---

The interior of Grastle's keep is cold and bare of most decorations apart from some paintings recalling to glories of the past, as has been the strict frugal Queen's preference since she took the throne.

The Court hall's stone walls are adorned with many weapons and shields bearing her vassal's coats of arms. Fallone notices, as he walks in, that there is an empty space where his house's crest should be honored.

There are only two Nobles in the room, the Queen sitting on a piece of cloth set upon her hard granite throne and the middle-aged Chancellor standing at her side who belongs to house Victorus as well.

The Queen is average in height and has the strong build of a woman who bore four children with ease. She has brown hair and eyes with narrowed eyebrows that give her gaze a cutting quality.

Her left hand holds a golden scepter with a large red jewel that rests on the floor. She is observing Lord Fallone who is kneeling with his chin held down, awaiting permission to speak.

The Chancellor glances to the herald and makes a wave with his hand under his belt to also signal he should retreat once his task is complete. The herald discreetly straightens his tabard and looks to the arcs of the ceiling.

“Lord Fallone, here to supplicate our great Queen Victorus!” He loudly announces with his hand to his chest.

The herald waits for several beats before making a deep bow and retreating backward to leave the room without turning his back to the Queen, which has long been taken as a sign of treachery or disloyalty.

“Lord Fallone, you've been quite insistent about meeting us.” Queen Victorus speaks up while tapping on the stone with her scepter.

“I believe it my duty to Steso to seek enlightenment, my Queen.” Fallone utters.

“Rise, and speak your piece then.” The Queen replies with a touch of disinterest and exhaustion.

“We obtained victory from the jaws of defeat by preventing the Rykz from completely breaking our lines and invading Steso in full force, yet you punish us on the day we return. I do not understand.” Fallone argues for the sake of those he commanded.

“Punishment?” The Chancellor asks with a cold voice. “Were any of you imprisoned? Were any soldiers or families denied their rightful pay? Your title was merely revoked for lack of competence, Lord Fallone, and it was far less than I've argued for.”

“My lack of competence I can acknowledge, but our soldiers fought hard for this victory. Denying them honor is denying their courage in the face of certain death!” Fallone bursts out. “Kuh, kh, kh.” He coughs blood directly on the stone floor but doesn't stop. “Hundreds upon hundreds of injured auxiliaries and phalangites willingly gave their lives to stop the insects, to ensure their comrades would survive the engagement!”

“Those who survived will be taken care of by Steso for the rest of their lives with posts in the west, as our Queen proclaimed in her diktat.” The Chancellor utters.

“But...” Fallone starts.

“Enough. I've heard enough of this so-called victory, Fallone.” Queen Victorus coldly cuts him off. “Another victory like this and you may as well send them my crown for my Kingdom will be no more!” She snaps at the Lord. “You will leave Grastle and return to your lands by the morrow, I shan't be persecuting you or the officers who have protested my decision. Count yourself fortunate if you cannot understand that Steso can never allow the reiteration of such a battle.”

“I don't understand.” Fallone croaks.

“Do you not? You've lost two-thirds of the heavy cavalry force entrusted to you, how many sons and daughters of Nobility do you believe died that day in the ruins? If not for our Queen's benevolence, the Court would have had you stripped of your rank and quartered like a low born!” The Chancellor barks. “Then, when the Order opened your path for retreat, you ordered a corridor be held by the auxiliaries instead of retreating with the bulk of the forces to safeguard Steso's borders! Who does your loyalty lie with first? Your Queen Victorus or Emperor Rasaec?”

“The Twelfth would have been slaughtered!” Fallone cries out in protest. “Kih, rhak, khrr.” A coughing fit surprises the Lord who seizes his chest and drops to a knee, spitting out tiny globs of blood.

“What difference is there between their obliteration yesterday and their state today?” The Chancellor snaps. “I'll tell you where the difference lies! It lies in the flames currently scorching our countryside!”

Fallone's eyes widen in disbelief at hearing these words because, while his auxiliaries did save the Twelfth at a heavy cost, neither would have survived without the other's sacrifices.

There is truth in what they said, but he has to believe that it is optimistic speculation at best, a remaking of history. Otherwise, he would be far more responsible for the scorched earth tactics his Kingdom is currently suffering from.

“That's enough.” The Queen says with a difficult expression.

“Very well, my Queen.” The Chancellor acknowledges with a bow. “We must next receive an envoy from Kruzser, the Emperor has fully awoken and demands to know where we stand on the future of the war.”

“Demands.” Victorus bitterly scoffs. “You hear this Fallone? The old relic loses me thousands of my subjects because he is taking a nap and then demands to know why we would not fully support his endeavor.”

Fallone does not answer, too shaken and depressed by the conversation to entertain even his Queen. He straightens up, bows down and snaps around to stomp out of the room.

The Chancellor almost barks out to the guards standing outside but Queen Victorus raises her scepter to bar him out of nostalgia for her now lost relationship with this Lord who used to be her most loyal Duke.

She watches Lord Fallone leave the room with a gloomy expression as she is aware the man did everything in his power to safeguard Steso, yet it was not enough and that in itself is a crime towards the Kingdom.

--- --- ---

A lone scout approaches Fenyz on its pointy legs. She planted her root-like toes deep into the soil at the center of the camp to absorb more nutrients to feed her cores which are furiously thinking.

She extended out her spear-headed tendrils to receive more and clearer information from the drones as well as to be capable to give out more orders at once.

The scout stops before her and breathes out, making an acute sound that human ears would not detect. Fenyz angles her ovaloid head down to take a good 'look' at this drone.

It exudes a cloud of pheromones that contains much disorganized or useless information such as soil composition, approximate geography features, and number of mice or predators. Fenyz compiles all of it and determines that the Lisilese have only four thousand combatants but that all of them are mounted.

[A hunting party.] She concludes.

Rkyk, rhyk, rhyk.

She breathes out with a mocking cackle towards these foolish reptiles who think that would be enough to defeat her forces. She could outrun these horses within a day without even truly exhausting herself.

Rhyy, rhyy, rhyy.

The drones join in, expressing their determination to defend their Princess. Fenyz' tendrils tighten as their breathing cries touch her. She swipes them out, first those on her left and then right to send out a dozen orders at once to the warriors and workers.

The Rykz reorganize within moments, the latter ceding their places in the shallow trenches to the former to let them begin planting the atlatl javelins she intends to use as stakes against the horses.

The drones haven't dug as deep a defensive square as she would have liked but she estimates it'll suffice to repel this assault. They could finish the fortification before the Lisilese arrive but prefers to preserve the drones' stamina.

Within a couple of hours, sensible membranes in Fenyz' ovaloid head start picking up vibrations traveling up her legs from the ground. She retracts her root-like toes from the earth and sends out a command to arm the few javelins they haven't used as stakes into the atlatls.

Once the workers around her have done so, she commands each individual squad of them to use strengthening constructs to launch them so as to injure the Lisilese's mounts when they approach in range.

Fenyz experiences a rush of excitement as the currents of blood coursing through her body and along her cores accelerates. She feels the pull to retreat but appreciates the fact that, for once, she has reason to fight and not withdraw.

The Lisilese arrive twenty minutes later, riding in loose ranks. They are led by one large specimen with rare black and white scales wearing old iron armor. They spread out to surround the lightly fortified camp and shower arrows down on the Rykz.

Fenyz expected this but only learns of it once the first projectiles fall because she can't detect as far as they are. The warriors intercept most of the arrows with their shields while the scouts' interlocked carapaces deflect them but the workers have no such advantages and a few dozen are injured on their upper bodies.

Rh-hyyyyy, kszz.

The Lisilese keep trotting in circles while showering Fenyz' drones with arrows. She rearranges the ranks according to the harassing strategy she is faced with, pulling back the workers closer to the center.

The leader of the raid soon grows impatient at her lack of reaction, and the few casualties caused by their arrows, and orders a probing attack because he does not have enough projectiles to cause significant casualties to the warriors.

Squads of Lisilese separate from the cantabrian circle to approach the camp at an angle. Each of the reptiles is holding a lasso that they're lazily making spin over their heads while seeking targets.

Rh-hyyyyy, kszz.

As soon as they get in range, they throw their ropes out in the hopes of catching Rykz who try to defend with their sabers. Unfortunately for the drones, the Lisilese are no amateurs and their aim is true while their lassos are reinforced from within by the blaze which makes them much harder to cut.

Warriors are caught by the neck, not much thinner than their triangular heads but enough to make it impossible to get rid of the rope without cutting it, or by their arms to be dragged out of their trench by the Lisilese who caught them.

Rhhry. Fenyz grumbles in anger as she witnesses drones being dragged out of her detection range by ropes, breaking the javelins they planted to function as stakes on the way out.

[You insult the Silver Hive.] She utters.

The Princess enhances her ability to sense her surroundings with black sunlight and demands continuous precise reports on the enemies around the camp from the drones while also giving her workers the order to fire their javelins.

Rh-hyyyyy, kszz.

As volley after volley departs from the atlatls, killing mounts and injuring Lisilese, Fenyz gathers enough information to shape a lightning construct which she does by intermingling filaments across seven different cores she places all around the camp, using a humongous amount of energy.

When the next wave of Lisilese ride out to launch their lassos and drag warriors out, they are welcomes by a tide of lightning that rises like the sea. These hunters hurriedly launch small iron sticks but it isn't nearly enough to stop the bolts filling the air.

Hundreds of Lisilese drop with their mounts, including many who weren't on the front-line. There is smoke coming out from between their scales and dark burns present on the softer parts of their bodies like their faces and backs.

Rh-hyyyyy, kszz.

The hunters' leader blinks with his two sets of lids and tastes the air with bristling scales as he witnesses this, having not thought this Princess to have so much blaze. Instead of scaring this Lisilese, it emboldens him because there would be much honor to gain in feeding the blaze with such an adversary.

He estimates two choices for his hunting party, either they charge now without giving the Princess any time to shape another such large construct, or they keep eating away at her forces.

The latter presents a much bigger risk than the former because the Rykz would normally not run out of stamina before his hunters do, despite their advantage of being on horseback.

Rh-hyyyyy, kszz.

The black and white scaled Lisilese does not wish to bet on the hope that this Princess forced her drones to travel for days without rest which will cause them to fall during an intense battle.

{Initiate a collapsing charge from every direction, crush through to the center!} He orders.

Immediately after his command, the large Lisilese uses one of the pointy claws of his foot to just barely poke the side of his mount to have it launch at galloping speed.

Rh-hyyyyy, kszz.

He quickly launches to take the lead of his section of the battlefield and crush through the weak javelins planted into the ground. A few of his hunters who held lassos but drew swords to charge impact the wall before he arrives.

Their horses perish with broken projectiles in their chests but the riders jump off their mounts' backs to land atop the risen warrior shields, using their weight to break the Rykz warrior's stances and plunge their weapons in their weak points, the armpit and neckline where the cuirass doesn't exactly join with their carapaced triangular heads.

The Lisilese that follow, like their leader, make it through the improvised stakes without issue and crush through the first few lines of warriors. Fenyz observes all this from the center of the camp, especially the black and white lizard which her scouts have reported is who the rest orbit around for their orders.

Rh-hyyyyy, kszz.

She watches as the Lisilese uses his red vision to scour her encampment and finds her. The Princess inhales and leans down while extending her tail out in a posture of defiance.

She recognizes these Lisilese's fighting style as that of the Bloody Claws Horde but that is not the reason for her disdain. She doesn't respect their species' culture as a whole because of how they abandon their own when mangled.

Fenyz knows the reason lies in a large campaign in the past during which their species almost crumbled after a massive war against both humans and Rykz because of the amount of resources their injured needed to both heal as well as survive.

She does not contest the necessity of that decision for them at the time, even if she herself would never consider abandoning those of her Hive for such a reason, but firmly believes that this tradition has long been outdated and is now harmful to them.

Rh-hyyyyy, kszz.

The black and white Lisilese witnesses this posture from his would-be prey and feels a rush of bloodlust calling him to rip this Princess with his talons. A scout suddenly leaps over a warrior with its pikes thrusting at him.

He gathers blaze in his left hand as he turns on his saddle to dodge the points and slams his palm into the drone's chest. The scout's leap stops dead upon impact but, oddly, it also turns completely stiff on contact with the blood-red energy. The Lisilese throws it aside with a swipe.

Rh-hyyyyy, kszz.

Clap. Fenyz makes one of her spear-headed tendrils snaps in the air at the sight of her scout being disposed of like this. She takes a step forward but pauses, aware that Grikyz will harshly admonish her for entering the battle so soon, yet she cannot help her anger.

And so, the Princess leaps forth. She bends in half to sprint at the black and white scaled Lisilese with her tail serpenting behind her. She slips through the Rykz ranks without a single issue as the drones part way before her without a moment's hesitation.

Thanks to this, the Rykz warrior Princess reaches the Lisilese leader within moments when it would have perhaps taken the hunter half an hour to battle his way to her position.

Rh-hyyyyy, kszz.

The horse he is riding suddenly loses all strength in its legs and drops him. The animal was impaled in the chest from beneath by a scout which was cut in half perhaps two minutes ago but, somehow, survived long enough to do this.

The Lisilese drops and rolls back up on his talons just in time to bend ninety degrees backward, just barely dodging six spearheads. He swipes out with his sword to threaten any other tendril she may attempt to impale him with, which forces Fenyz to stop or be injured.

Rh-hyyyyy, kszz.

Clink. A warrior's saber slams into his side and bounces off, throwing him off balance. The attack baffles the Lisilese because it cost the drone its life as another hunter took advantage to smash its carapaced head in, but he doesn't let this distract him from the most important fight of his life so far.

Fenyz watches as the lizard raise his left hand, still glowing red with a construct, and tries to strike at her with it. She slides away, taking the place of a warrior who throws itself at another Lisilese to simply make space for her.

The black and white scaled Lisilese launches a lazy slash with his sword to prevent her from stabbing at him but fails to understand the Princess' plans. Fenyz spins on her left leg and throws her right one out at an angle that would dislocate the thigh of any mammal or lizard that tries to imitate her.

Rh-hyyyyy, kszz.

Her foot slams into his old iron chest-plate, which has traces of rust, and cause it to cave inward. The Lisilese flies back only to impact a scout who should not have been there.

The drone bashes at him with its pikes, throwing the hunters' leader back at the Princess. Fenyz raises and lowers her right leg in a flash, kicking the lizard into the ground. She keeps him there by placing her root-like toes on his back and pushing down.

[I may have forgiven you if you at least planned to eat these drones you drew out. But no, like many among your species, you merely killed. You have wasted their sacrifice of flesh and for this alone I would end your pitiful existence.] Fenyz utters as her toes dig into the fleshly pouches of blood on the lizard's back.

{Die!} The Lisilese yells as he tries to kick up at her with his talons.

Clik. His sharp claws land on a Vuskyt shield and do naught. The Princess presses down and plunges her toes directly into his back while the Lisilese twists his left arm to try to touch her with the red construct centered on his palm but fails.

Rh-hyyyyy, kszz.

Blue blood gusts out of the black and white lizard's back, splashing on Fenyz' leg as she mercilessly pushes her roots deeper into his body. The Lisilese cries in pain but doesn't plead, not that she would have understood, until his spine snaps and he loses consciousness.