Chapter 12: Imminent War

Ninth Day, Fourth Month of Year 1737, Impius Divisux

~Feera Windheart

The crack of dawn, a new day that had come over. In this early morning, the sounds of sparring resounded throughout the training grounds. High Commander Feera WindHeart moved in the midst of the rings of steel against shield and the explosions of magic, inspecting the warriors milling about, and at the Magus throwing spells at one another.

And though the encroaching of war was about to intrude into the borders of Ascal Kingdom, Feera continued with her usual discipline of the warriors under her command. In fact, she had made training harsher precisely due to the clouds of war lingering closely above.

Scouts from all the border forts had been sent into the Beast Woods, watching for any signs of the impending Noxus armies. King Hamon Ascallion had declared a call-to-arms, calling all the nobles to his banners. Bound both by oaths and military laws, dukes, barons, counts, lords, and knights had answered the call.

A 40,000 strong army, leaving the barest protection in the cities, forts, and castles, would convene in a month at the western borders. Ascal Kingdom would drive the Noxus armies and its necromancers back. They would rue the rest of their lives for having dared invade Ascal.

King Balan of Noxus Kingdom with its small population of two million wanted to invade Ascal Kingdom which had a population of close to two million and a half? The conceit! Ascal Kingdom had far more Magus and warriors, not to mention that the invasion would leave Noxus Kingdom unguarded against Favron Kingdom.

Feera walked through the paths in between the training grounds, pondering of the impending war when a voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Commander Feera!” a captain shouted. “Scout Leshi has returned.”

Immediately turning around, Feera met his bearded face with a few scar lines traveling across both of his cheeks. Captain Dravus was one of her most trusted subordinates and nearing his mid-fifties. But at this moment, all of his dignity gained from his veteran age had left the captain. He was huffing and puffing, red tinging his tanned cheeks.

“What’s the hurry if Leshi has returned?”

“Not that, you must come quickly.” Captain Darvus gasped for a breath, wheezing a little. “Leshi has been injured greatly!”

“Have you called for a healer then?” Feer asked calmly. Her strength of mind could not be shaken with just this. And even if she were inside a collapsing castle, she would still retain her calm.

“No! Leshi wanted to speak of his reports first. I am afraid it’s urgent from the looks of him. He’s waiting in front of the western gates.”

As soon as the words were spoken, Commander Feera nodded and made to move for the gates. She slammed free her Surges. As an Eight Rank Wind Magus, she was both the fastest and highest ranking Magus inside the fort. This year, she had just turned thirty-seven years old.

A monstrous genius! As a lowborn, it had taken Feera many arduous years to have climbed into her position as High Commander of four thousand men. She was known as the Lady of the North Wind inside Ascal Kingdom, and could be counted among the top fifteen Magus. She was the High Commander of the northern forts and their subsequent two commanders.

[Wind Walk], [Wind Armor], [Soaring Steps], [Call of Zephyr], [Wind Minstrel].

Feera casted five magic spells in succession in a blink of an eye. Her world slowed down as [Wind Minstrel] took into effect. It was magic that infused Wind Essences into her body, accelerating her reflexes and senses while at the same time strengthening her body. It was a powerful magic that was considered a Rank Seven magic spell and one of the most difficult to learn.

[Call of Zephyr] and [Soaring Steps], on the other hand, beckoned the wind to her. A burst of wind exploded outward from her polished black boots. The explosion created gusts of air that reached outward toward more than a twenty feet circular radius. All the men in the training grounds startled at the sudden sharp popping noise.

Feera shot upward into the skies, leaving behind gusts of wind which slammed into the spot she had been previously standing on. Unable to withstand the impact, cracks appeared on the stone ground. The gusts of wind were so strong that Captain Dravus would have been blown backward had he not been prepared.

In a few seconds, Feera had climbed more than two hundred feet into the air. At such a literal breakneck speed, the [Wind Armor] was needed to circumvent the forces that batted at Feera. Surveying her surroundings below with keen eyes that were comparable to that of hawks, Feera located the western gates.

Without a moment’s pause, she flew toward the western gates, cutting through the air and in her wake, leaving gusts of air and scattering Wind Essences created from her Wind Surge. The Wind Essences left a trail of white before vanishing back into the Essence Realm, hidden away from normal sight.

Moving at a blurred motion to anyone except her, Feera plunged down onto the stone paved ground. Her landing caused cracks to appear and a spherical explosion of wind caused the nearby warriors to land flat on their rears. The closest one was flung more than two feet away, landing on his back.

Protests went up against her unexpected landing while Feera closed her Surges.

“Ouch! Careful there, Commander Feera! You could have killed us!”

“Apologies, but have some balls,” Feera calmly replied, moving toward Scout Leshi who lay bleeding and resting against a stone bench. He was surrounded by a few warriors who parted to allow her through.

“Where is the damn healer at? He still has not arrived?” Feera asked.

“Not yet, Commander Feera. I have sent someone to fetch the healer, only he is too slow compared to you, commander,” one of the warriors replied.

“Very well.” Still maintaining her calm, Feera quickly inspected Scout Leshi. His whole right arm had been torn off and blood was seeping through the strips of cloth that acted as bandages. In addition, his leather armor sported cuts and burns while his face was bruised and pale from the blood loss. It was commendable that Leshi was still even conscious and not screaming out in pain.

It was only expected of him. He was a Fifth Rank Wind Magus and one of the finest scouts that served under her. “What happened, Leshi?” Feera whispered, clasping his hand. “Who did this to you?”

“Border villages…Beast Woods…Noxus army, please protect.”

Feera could tell that the words took much strength out of Leshi. He was tired, a fatigue which seemed to cut at him bone-deep.

Leshi closed his eyes and his voice became forced, as if someone had taken control of him. “Prince Gladius Zane Noxus awaits your pleasure at the northwestern borders.” His eyes flickered opened. “I am sorry. Forgive me, commander.”

Her instincts screamed out at those words. Then a light flared up from inside Leshi’s chest, covering his whole body in an eerie black glow.

“RUN!” Feera roared to the nearby warriors. But it was too late to escape. Feera only had enough time to cast [Wind Armor] on herself before she was flung away by a massive explosion. Headfirst, she slammed onto the stone ground. Her vision became obscured. It was as if she was seeing through a mud-covered window.

Feera grunted in pain as she attempted to stand up. It took a few seconds to actually stand upright and there was an ache in her chest. A broken rib? No, perhaps just bruised. She realized that her face was wet; blood was dripping down the sides of her face.

Her fists clenched as she looked upon the destruction caused by the explosion. A crater with a twenty feet radius and three feet deep in the middle. Black flames licked the sides of the crater, dancing mockingly at her.

She recognized the magic for what it was. [Linked Soul Explosion], a spell that could only be used by a high ranking necromancer. Scout Leshi had been turned into a lich and his soul had been forcefully ignited into an explosion by the necromancer controlling him from a distance.

The message conveyed was plain and clear—

If she wanted to save the border villages from being razed down, they would have to come out from the Northstorm Fortress and fight the Noxus army at the northwestern borders. The necromancer was smart about conveying the message too. He had ordered Leshi to tell her the barest minimum. The order included Leshi, who had become a lich, to feign his pain and breathing so that none would find out that Leshi had been turned into a lich.

Most of all, his blood was still warm due to having been recently converted into a lich. But how had Leshi been caught? He was a Fifth Ranked Wind Magus, and wind Magus were famed for their speed and escaping abilities. Had the other scouts been captured too?

As Feera moved closer toward the scene of destruction, toward that crater of death, tears threatened to escape from her eyes. Many warriors had been caught in the explosion, unable to escape or even properly defend themselves.

The anger and frustration of not having seen through such a ruse tore at Feera’s heart. But most of all, four of the five warriors that had died did not even leave behind any corpses. The explosion had been merciless, devouring all traces of the four warriors and of Leshi’s body. And the remaining warrior had barely escaped—only half of his body remained, his insides peering out.

Feera would not even be able to bury Leshi properly. He was one of her oldest friends, and she even knew his family. How would she even break the news to them? To his wife, son, and daughter?

“Damn it all!” Canceling her [Wind Armor], Feera abruptly turned toward the closest warrior, snapping him out of his daze with her words. “You! Send the fastest rider to the main army. And you, tell my two commanders to meet with me in the central garrison. We will be preparing for the attack from the Noxus army.”

Feera wasn’t one who was prone to give in to her emotions. She had been alive for thirty-seven years already and was one of the active High Commanders. She was the Lady of the North Wind, guarding the northern borders of her home, of Ascal Kingdom.

But still…she couldn’t help but release her pent up anger. “Damn it all,” Feera cursed again. She would have to allow for the razing of the border villages by the enemy.

Feera had to await reinforcements and join up with the main army; it wasn’t easy to confront an enemy whose numbers and strength were unknown, but certainly far greater than hers.

There was simply not enough information for her to confront the Noxus army by herself. In addition, even Leshi, one of her best scouts, had been captured. Thus, Feera had to assume that all of the scouts she had sent to watch the northwestern borders were already captured.

Feera could only hope that the main army would reach Northstorm Fortress in time. In her mind, she wondered if she and her two commanders could hold the main northern fortress with their three thousand men, of which only four hundred of them were Magus.

In the end, it all boiled down to one simple goal: she had to hold for a month against the impending siege before reinforcements would arrive.

Feera knew that the location of Fortress Northstorm was important. It was the strategic point where the northern lands of Ascal Kingdom truly began. Fortress Northstorm was situated to overlook two trade routes and was close to three major cities.

A guard came running toward Feera.

“What now?” she said, annoyance tinging her voice.

“Explosions! At the southern, eastern, and northern gates. I don’t know what happened, but the scouts that had returned all exploded.”

The report answered the question in her mind. All of the scouts she had sent to the northwestern borders had been captured. They had all been turned into liches.

“Prince Gladius Zane Noxus, was it…” Feera muttered to herself. “You will regret this.”

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Fifteenth Day, Fourth Month of Year 1737, Impius Divisux

From atop the long winding ramparts of Fortress Northstorm, High Commander Feera WindHeart watched with apprehension as the Noxus army set up their campsite a few miles away from the northern gates.

Morning had broken into late afternoon and she had spent almost the whole of the morn watching the Noxus army marched into view. Beside Feera were two of her commanders, Commander Liam and Commander Devan.

A Wind Magus scout returned from the air, landing lithely on the ramparts a few feet away from Feera.

“What is the count?” Commander Devan asked.

“Roughly eight thousand strong, commander,” the scout reported. “I couldn’t get close enough for a more accurate look, but half of them seem to be reanimated corpses.”

No dismay showed on the commander’s face. Devan had already estimated the numbers himself. The only thing that was news were that half of the enemy numbers were reanimated corpses.

“Thralls, you mean,” said Commander Liam. He was the oldest and had the most exposure to the necromancers, having fought a few skirmishes in the Beast Woods. “They are not called reanimated corpses. They are thralls, zombies, liches, pets, creations, or familiars.” He spat down the ramparts. “Damn perverse deathfuckers.”

“Commanders, I trust we have finished preparations to defend against a siege?” asked Feera.

“Yes. The people from the surrounding villages and towns have taken up residence inside,” Liam answered. “The scribes counted two thousand.” A slight hesitation. “I am afraid the added two thousand will cause a reduction in the rations. We will only be able to last four weeks at best.”

Feera sighed. “I know, Commander Liam, I know. But what else can I, no…what else can we do? We cannot just let them die.”

Commander Devan laughed darkly, revolving a small sphere of water in his palm. “Well, at least we won’t die of thirst.” Another laugh. “If only there were Food Magus, we would be well off then.”

“I have already set up rotations in the day and night sentries,” said Commander Liam. “We will have to be on our toes every single hour for enemy attacks. One can never know when a surprise attack will occur, especially with the enemy right at our gates.”

Feera narrowed her eyes as she saw a shadowy figure soaring through the skies. Wearing the black colours of the Noxus Magus Vestment, it looked to be a Wind Magus. With one hand, the Wind Magus carried a white flag and in the other hand, he carried a white communication orb.

“Hold your fire,” High Commander Feera ordered the Magus and the archers on the ramparts.

“Crown Prince Gladius Zane Noxus, son of King Balan Noxus, requests a meeting with High Commander Feera Windheart, the Lady of the North Wind. If you should choose to accept the invitation, bring two escorts with you and meet at the location where the white flag shall be planted. The time of meeting shall be when the sun sets!”

Having declared the message, the Wind Magus soared back to the enemy camps, but not before planting the white flag in the middle location between Fortress Northstorm and the enemy camps.

“Hmm…The meeting could be a trick,” Commander Liam said. “I do not fancy a meeting even if the location is on clear ground and in between their camps and our fortress.”

“I agree. It is simply a trick,” Devan said. “Do not trust a necromancer, even if that necromancer is the crown prince.”

Feera pondered for a moment before finally deciding. “No. We should meet with this prince. I would like to see the face of my opponent. And perhaps we could even kill him with some sacrifice from our part.” She gritted her teeth and her voice gained in force. “Honor and pride be damned. The prince shall pay for the massacre of so many innocent lives.”

Commander Devan grinned. “I knew you would say that, Feera. Very well, we will show them the might of Ascal Kingdom!”

Commander Liam also grinned, but with an excitement that made his face looked years younger. He was already sixty-five years old and had seen enough of life. It didn’t matter to Liam if he died. His wife had long passed on and his son was already a grown man with a wife and children. The only bitter thought that entered his mind was that he would not be able to see the faces of grandchildren again if he died in battle.

And if things did go south, north, west, or east, becoming chaotic, Liam would sacrifice himself to save Feera. He had known Feera for many years and she had become like a daughter to him. “Very well, let us meet this Prince Zane.”

As an hour passed by, the sun had finally begun to set, the Surges of High Commander Feera Windheart, Commander Liam, and Commander Devan were instantly activated.

[Wind Walk], [Wind Amor], [Soaring Steps], [Call of Zephyr], and [Wind Minstrel].

The three commanders of Fortress Northstorm were all at least Seventh Rank Wind Magus in their main Surges, and Feera was an Eight Rank Wind Magus. The three of them were the most powerful Wind Magus in the north.

The resulting gusts of wind sent two of the nearby rampart guards falling down the walls, screaming down to their deaths.

“—Ahhh!”

Suddenly, the two guards stopped in midair as a gentle breeze caught them. The two guards looked above to see their three commanders hovering in midair, all three of their plate-armored body covered with a white wind armor.

“You should be more careful, youngsters,” Commander Liam said with a merry laughter. He had caught the two guards with a simple manipulation of the wind and was now putting them back onto the ramparts.

The guards weren’t even given a chance to retort to their three crazy commanders before they simply soared forward, leaving trails of white Wind Essences behind them. Soon, in but a blink of an eye, the three commanders were out of hearing distance.

The rampart guards were all in a panic. How could their commanders be so reckless? The three should have left at least one commander in command. But the rampart guards could only watch on as the three figures of their commanders became smaller and smaller.

In a few minutes, crossing almost three miles, the three commanders landed at the location of the white flag. In the opposite direction, three people awaited. Commander Feera observed them, noting their features. Her Magus senses, which a Magus developed at the Fifth Rank, told her that none of them had their Surges activated. Giving a glance toward the two commanders, Feera closed her Surges.

“Ah, you must be High Commander Feera Windheart,” said the young man in the middle position. He wore an expensive looking black vestment covering his upper body and lower body. Swirling with white patterns of runes, it was no doubt a magical vestment granting protections.

And on his chest was a white insignia of the Noxus colours—a foreboding grey skull with a black dagger pierced through the front lobe. Only a necromancer would wear such colours. A royal necromancer. The young man was no doubt Prince Gladius Zane Noxus, the Crown Prince of Noxus Kingdom.

“The Lady of the Northwind. You are much younger than I had imagined. And far more beautiful.” The young man chuckled softly.

To Feera, his voice sounded sleek and smooth. It brought to mind an image of a well-groomed cat stretching its supple limbs. It sounded exactly like the voice of a handsome prince Feera had always imagined as a young girl, still stuck in her backwater village.

Now that she was older however, Feera knew better than to trust such a voice. It was too smooth, too practiced. And even though Feera had met the Ascallion king, and his children, the princes and princesses, the young man who stood before her seemed far different. He was nothing like the spoiled princes and princesses of her kingdom.

In fact, the man held himself with a grace that could not be denied. The grace ended with his eyes, though. A burning scarlet that gave away nothing and told nothing. His silvery white hair was grown long, stopping just past his broad shoulders. The young prince looked to be six feet tall and clean shaven without a trace of beard. And though he looked young, the prince gave off an aura of an older man.

“Thank you, Prince Gladius Zane Noxus,” Feera replied calmly, curtsying as best as she could in her full armor.

“Please, my lady. Simply call me Zane,” the young prince said, a full smile on his lips. The smile set against his pale face made him look even more handsome, yet oddly strange. A strangeness Feera could not place.

The prince gasped a little, arching his brows. “Ah, where are my manners. I had almost forgotten to introduce my companions after seeing you fall down like a twinkling star.” He gestured a hand to the fat man with greased black hair beside him. “This is my Tutor Beldin. He looks like a pig, but do not trust his outer layer of façade. Despite initial misgivings, you will find him quite formidable.”

A gesture to his opposite side. “And this is Commander Thorion Solus. A grim and silent man by all means, and loyal to a fault.”

With a nod directed at the two, Feera acknowledged them. “And this is Commander Devan and Commander Liam,” she said.

“A pleasure, commanders,” the prince said, his eyes never once leaving her own dark brown eyes. “Scout Leshi has told me much about you.”

Feera did not even twitch an eye at those words. Almost—she had almost lost her calm. A fury had almost shattered her outward serenity. “I must thank you for returning Scout Leshi to us,” Feera replied coldly. She cursed to herself then. Her voice had betrayed her, giving away her emotion.

Prince Zane smiled at that. “You are quite welcome, High Commander Feera. I must say Scout Leshi made for good company. A shame he did not stayed longer as our guest. We had bonded quite well. I literally felt a connection to his soul.”

Feera gritted her teeth so hard she thought they would break. “Enough of the pleasantries, Prince Zane.” Feera had spat the last two words out as if she had tasted garbage. “What is it that you want?”

“Simply put, your surrender. And you will also have my word as the Noxus Crown Prince that I will spare any who surrenders.”

Feera instantly opened her Surges at those words. And with her Magus Senses, she could tell that the enemy party except for the young prince had activated their Surges in response. The fat man, Tutor Beldin the prince had called him, seemed to be less formidable than the other grim-faced man.

In fact, Feera felt her instincts scream out at her. Her Magus Senses told her that this Commander Thorion Solus was at a far higher level than she could ever hope to achieve. And not once had the grim expression on his face changed at her provocation.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she noticed both Commander Devan and Commander Liam tense up upon noticing this Thorion’s power. Should she risk a fight here? Feera knew that this would be the most opportune moment. The prince was powerless, and was at most only a Fourth Rank Magus. It was easy to tell since the prince had not even achieved his Magus Senses yet. And he only had two guards beside him.

If they were to attack now, even at the cost of their lives, the three of them could certainly bring down the Noxus Crown Prince, slicing away a future threat forever.

Only ten steps away. Feera could instantly activate all her enhancement magic spells and her eight rank magic spells to kill the prince. The only unknown factor was Commander Thorion Solus beside the prince, and perhaps Tutor Beldin, though he didn’t seem much.

A decision instantly came over the three commanders—

Attack! The Crown Prince would die today, at this very hour, at this very minute, even if it cost the three of them their lives!

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AN: Accepting bets now! I bet five euros on Commander Thorion being the only survivor! And him becoming the MC!! ;)

PS: Some small changes. Magic Spells will be in brackets now. E,g. [Fireball] , [Wind Minstrel]