As a result, Caesar was almost always in the field, leading his Shield Warriors and a contingent of Plague-thralls on sweeping patrols through the northern regions of the Forest of Nature, clearing out demonic monsters and rescuing scattered Wood Elf survivors. With Caesar away, the responsibility of managing the camp fell solely to Aerin.

Today, just as she had finished leading a prayer to strengthen the trees near the camp's walls, a commotion erupted at the main gate. As the one in charge, she immediately rushed to the scene.

Pushing her way through the gathered crowd, Aerin saw her. It was Freyla, and she was dying.

One of her arms was gone, and a massive wound had torn open her abdomen. She was clinging to a final, ragged breath, her vacant eyes staring up at the sky. Aerin knelt beside her. Her face came into Freyla's view, and the dying elf's eyes, which had been so empty, suddenly regained a spark of light.

"Elder... you were right," Freyla rasped. "Outside the forest... there is no... no home for the Wood Elves..."

"They... they all died... We couldn't get away..."

At the sight of her, Aerin's eyes instantly filled with bloodshot tears, which began to stream down her face. Freyla had been her assistant. Before Orion's arrival, they had relied on each other, supported each other, giving one another warmth and encouragement through the darkest of times. But Freyla hadn't been able to let go of the past, and so she had left The Stillness.

"I... I watched our people... fall... one by one... they died in my arms..."

"I wanted... to bring them back... to you... but..."

"So many... died... It's all my fault..."

Her breaths were short and shallow, her words broken, her voice fading with every syllable.

Aerin wept, casting one healing spell after another, but it was no use. Freyla's life's flame had already dwindled to a final flicker. No magic could pull back someone who already had one foot in the grave.

"Compared to the outside..." Freyla whispered, "...this place... it feels more like... home..."

"Elder... Freyla was wrong."

With the last of her strength, she raised her remaining hand, trying to reach for Aerin's face, to wipe away her tears, just as they had always done to comfort each other in the past.

But her hand fell limp halfway, and the light in her bright eyes was extinguished forever.

Freyla felt like she was falling. The pain from her wounds vanished. The world before her eyes began to change.

The sky is turning blue again. The plague is gone. I think... I can hear birds singing... and the sound of elven songs...

In the next instant, her world faded to black and white. And then, only eternal darkness remained.

Aerin held Freyla's body, her hands trembling. Her tears had run dry, and in their place was a profound, chilling calm.

"We found her while she was being eaten by demonic monsters," Caesar said, his voice low. He had arrived with the body. "She kept muttering your name, my lady. I told her I knew you, that I would bring her to see you. I think that's the only reason she held on for so long. About three miles from where she fell, we found the rest of her group. Over a hundred of them. We brought them all back."

He didn't know how to comfort her. All he could do was report the facts. He was a righteous man and he sympathized with the Wood Elves, but he was a pragmatist. He had not lived their tragedy; he couldn't truly share their pain.

"Thank you, Caesar," Aerin said, her voice hollow. "You must be exhausted. Go and rest. I will handle things here."

She lifted Freyla's body into her arms and walked toward the center of the camp. She would bury her friend herself.

Caesar looked as if he wanted to say something, but he held his tongue. He watched her go, then turned to his men.

"Brothers, get some rest. Tomorrow, we continue the rescue mission." He dismissed the Shield Warriors and, with a heavy sigh, walked toward his own quarters.

.....

Titanion Realm, Stoneheart.

The castle throne room was abuzz with activity today. Beside Orion on his throne sat the newly appointed Warden, Marina. Below them, standing in two disciplined rows, were Rendall, Beyn, Torba, Drakthul, Dace, Earthshaker, Gronthar, Onyx, Thundar, Ursa, and the other elders. Such a gathering of Alpha-level commanders meant that something significant was about to happen.

With Orion's true body now residing in Stoneheart, his word was law. These founding members of his war council, long relegated to administrative duties, were now being freed up and brought back to a state of war readiness.

Orion's gaze swept over the warriors he trusted most, the elders who had fought and bled for the horde. They deserve to forge their own path, to follow their own fate.

"There are two matters to address," he announced, his voice echoing in the hall. "The conquest of Aenari Island, and an otherworldly invasion."

"This is Marina, a Lord of the mermaid race, and the newest Warden of the stoneheart horde."

The elders bowed in unison, and Marina, conducting herself with regal poise, returned the gesture with a nod. Some of them knew her from before; others only knew of her by reputation. Regardless, her status as a Legendary-level lord earned their instant respect.

Marina, for her part, looked back at Orion with a flicker of curiosity in her eyes. The conquest of Aenari Island was the task she had set for herself. But an otherworldly invasion? So, she thought, this big lug has been hiding a great many secrets. That explains his rapid rise to the rank of arch lord. She didn't press the issue. She knew the time to ask questions was when he chose to share the answers.

"Rendall, Beyn, Torba, Drakthul, Gormathar," Orion's voice turned sharp and formal. "You will take your five armies, board the Sea-Devouring Warship, and follow Warden Marina to sea. Your mission is to bring Aenari Island into the fold."

"As you command!" the five generals roared, their eyes burning with a fanatical light. Each of them hoped to become the next Dirtclaw. They believed that the path he had walked, they too could follow.

"Onyx, Dace, Earthshaker, Gronthar, Thundar, Ursa," Orion continued, turning to the other group. "You too will muster your armies. In the coming days, you will descend upon another world to wage war on its native races and expand the horde's territory."

His voice rose, filled with a fire that ignited the hearts of every warrior in the room.

"Send word to the warriors! Ask them if their weapons are still sharp! If their blood is still hot! If their will to fight still burns!"

He knew that war, and only war, was the true measure of an army.

"WE OBEY!" the commanders thundered as one, their voices a testament to their unwavering loyalty.

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