Arthur sat behind his desk, listening as one report after another was delivered. The room felt heavier than it had during the war council the previous evening, and every update brought fresh problems.
General Cedric Vale adjusted his spectacles before continuing. "Marshal Stoneheart has completed the latest count."
Arthur looked up. "And?"
"Roughly ten thousand fighting men remain." Cedric glanced down at the parchment in his hands. "That includes active soldiers, wounded veterans still capable of holding a weapon, retired servicemen, militia volunteers, and civilians willing to fight."
The number sounded respectable. It wasn't. Not after the losses they had suffered. Arthur silently performed the calculations—ten thousand defenders against an enemy horde that might number several times that. His expression remained calm. Only years of leadership prevented it from darkening.
"Continue."
Cedric nodded. "Matriarch Agatha reports that our medical supplies are running critically low."
Arthur frowned. "How low?"
"Low enough that if we survive another battle, we may lack the resources necessary to properly treat the wounded afterward."
The room fell silent. Winning a battle meant little if survivors died from untreated injuries days later.
Before Arthur could respond, General Elara Voss spoke. "The scouts have also confirmed continued enemy movement beyond the frontier."
Arthur shifted his attention toward her. "The orcs are still gathering?"
"More arrive every day." Her voice remained steady, though concern lingered beneath it. "They appear to be consolidating their forces before advancing inland."
Arthur leaned back slightly. "Toward Highcrest?"
"Most likely." Elara folded her arms. "It stands directly between the frontier and the capital."
A grim expression crossed Arthur's face. If Highcrest fell, the road to the kingdom's heartland would be exposed.
Cedric resumed his report. "The Thorn brothers continue overseeing reconstruction efforts."
Arthur glanced toward the twins. Commander Darius nodded. "We've restored portions of the eastern wall." His brother continued seamlessly. "But morale remains poor."
Arthur wasn't surprised. Many citizens had lost homes, many more had lost loved ones, and some had lost both.
"And the evacuation?" Arthur asked.
Cedric lowered his report. "The orders have been distributed. The citizens have begun preparing caravans and wagons are being assembled throughout the city." He paused. "If all proceeds smoothly, departure will begin the morning after tomorrow."
Arthur remained silent for a moment, then asked the question he already suspected he wouldn't like. "How many?"
Cedric understood immediately. "Approximately sixty percent of the surviving population."
Arthur blinked. "That many?"
"Possibly more by tomorrow." Cedric adjusted his spectacles. "My lord, never underestimate a person's desire to survive."
No one argued. The truth of that statement was visible throughout the city. "They know the journey is dangerous." Cedric's voice grew quieter. "They know Highcrest may become the next battlefield. Yet they still choose to leave."
Arthur slowly nodded. Because staying might be worse—waiting behind damaged walls for another siege, watching the horizon for an army that might arrive before reinforcements, waiting for death. Many preferred uncertainty over inevitability.
"I didn't wish to deceive them," Arthur said quietly. The room turned toward him. "They deserved the truth." His gaze drifted toward the window. "Every citizen has the right to choose how they face what's coming."
A brief silence followed. Then Arthur asked, "And the others?"
Cedric already knew who he meant—the forty percent staying behind. The strategist considered the question before answering. "Some refuse to abandon their homes. Some wish to avenge family members killed during the attack. Others simply cannot imagine running." He paused. "Patriotism. Duty. Vengeance. Honor." A faint smile appeared on the old strategist's face. "And a healthy amount of stubbornness." The source of this chapter is novelping(.)com.
A few quiet chuckles followed—the first in several minutes. Then the room fell silent once more, because everyone present understood the truth. Many of those choosing to stay would never leave the city alive.
The discussion continued for several more minutes. Possible supply routes were examined, defensive priorities debated, evacuation schedules finalized. Then the chamber doors opened once again and Captain Roland Vale entered carrying a messenger pigeon upon his forearm. The bird looked exhausted—several feathers were missing and dirt stained its white plumage. It had clearly flown a great distance.
"My lord." Roland bowed. "A messenger pigeon arrived moments ago."
Arthur immediately looked up. "From where?"
"Highcrest."
The name alone was enough to draw everyone's full attention. Arthur straightened slightly. "What message does it carry?"
Roland carefully untied a small parchment secured to the bird's leg before handing it over. Cedric accepted it and quickly broke the seal, his eyes scanning the contents. The longer he read, the grimmer his expression became.
Arthur immediately noticed. "What is it?"
Cedric took a slow breath before reading aloud.
TO ANY SURVIVING COMMANDERS, GOVERNORS, CITY LORDS, OR MILITARY OFFICERS WHO RECEIVE THIS MESSAGE.
HIGHCREST REMAINS STANDING, BUT THE SITUATION IS DIRE.
All major roads leading to the city have fallen under enemy control. Communication with neighboring settlements has largely been severed. Supply lines have been cut.
The enemy appears committed to a prolonged siege. Additional hordes continue arriving daily from the frontier.
THREE ORC KINGS HAVE BEEN CONFIRMED.
Based upon enemy movements, force concentrations, and the unprecedented cooperation between their armies, High Command believes the emergence of an ORC EMPEROR is highly probable.
Reports arriving from neighboring kingdoms describe invasions on a scale never before recorded in living memory. Entire frontier regions have reportedly fallen silent.
Should these reports prove accurate, this invasion exceeds every Orc Tide documented during the last century.
The Kingdom has begun preparations to defend the capital. As a result, little hope remains for significant reinforcements from the royal army.
No response has arrived from the Imperial Court. The Emperor remains silent. The Mage Association has issued no statement and has provided no assistance.
Highcrest is preparing for a prolonged siege and eventual assault.
Any surviving settlements are advised to preserve their remaining forces, secure supplies, and operate independently. Reinforcements should not be expected.
If you still live, hold your ground.
May the gods watch over us all.
— HIGHCREST MILITARY COMMAND
Silence followed. A heavy silence—the kind that settled over a room when everyone understood the implications of what they had just heard.
General Elara Voss was the first to speak. "Then it is almost certainly an Orc Emperor." Several heads nodded. "The Orc Kings have never fought together willingly. Past invasions always fractured into separate warbands." Her expression darkened. "Three Kings cooperating under a single banner is unprecedented."
Commander Lucian Thorn folded his arms. "Highcrest will request aid. They'll have no choice." His twin brother nodded. "Even a fortress city can't withstand three Orc Kings forever." Enjoying the story? Read on at g.com.
Arthur remained silent.
Cedric adjusted his spectacles. "Highcrest possesses some of the strongest defenses in the kingdom. Their walls were designed specifically to withstand prolonged sieges, and the city maintains extensive grain reserves due to its position as a major commercial hub." He tapped the parchment thoughtfully. "Assuming rationing begins immediately and their reserves remain intact, they could likely endure six to eight months behind their walls."
Several officers looked relieved. Cedric immediately shattered that optimism. "That estimate only concerns food." The room grew quiet again. "Water contamination. Disease. Civil unrest. Casualties. Structural damage." He looked toward the map. "A city under siege does not simply consume supplies. It consumes hope."
No one argued. History had proven that countless times. Eventually every fortress faced the same dilemma—remain behind the walls and slowly weaken, or march out and fight.
Then Cedric spoke again. "Keeping human emotions aside..." His fingers adjusted his spectacles. "This may actually benefit us."
Several officers frowned. Arthur raised an eyebrow. "You mean?"
Cedric nodded. "If the orcs are committing the majority of their forces toward Highcrest, then our own position improves considerably." Understanding slowly spread throughout the room. "We expected another assault within days." Cedric pointed toward the frontier on the map. "But if Highcrest has become their primary objective..." His finger shifted inland. "...their attention is elsewhere."
General Elara frowned. "You believe they'll ignore us?"
"No." Cedric shook his head. "Merely postpone us." He glanced toward Arthur. "My lord, so long as Highcrest stands, it serves as a shield." A pause. "A very large shield."
Arthur slowly leaned back in his chair. For the first time since the message arrived, a faint glimmer of relief appeared within the room. Not hope. Certainly not safety. But time. And right now, time was the most valuable resource they possessed.
The chamber remained silent after Cedric finished. No one spoke and no one needed to. The message from Highcrest had answered the question they had all been asking since the battle ended.
They were alone.
Arthur slowly rose from his chair, the movement drawing every eye in the room. His gaze swept across the council before settling on the map spread across the table. Then he spoke.
"The evacuation is suspended." His voice was calm, measured. "The information from Highcrest changes the situation." Several members of the council nodded immediately—no explanation was necessary. "Before this report, there was a possibility that our civilians might reach safety." His finger tapped the map where Highcrest stood. "Now we know the roads are compromised." Another tap. "Sending thousands of civilians into territory controlled by orcs would be irresponsible."
No one disagreed. The logic was obvious. "The order will be announced before sunset."
Cedric made a note.
Arthur shifted his attention toward General Elara. "I want a complete inventory of all food stores. Every granary, every warehouse, every livestock enclosure." The general nodded. "It will be done."
Arthur turned toward Matriarch Agatha. "Begin preparing ration schedules." The elderly healer gave a single sharp nod. "Medical supplies are to be inventoried as well. Every bandage, every vial, every herb. We can no longer afford waste." Again, Agatha nodded. She had expected nothing less.
Arthur's gaze moved toward the Thorn twins. "Reconstruction takes priority. The walls, the gates, the towers—I want every damaged section repaired as quickly as possible."
"We've already begun," Darius replied.
"Good." Arthur looked toward Marshal Garrick. "Training?"
The giant warrior folded his arms. "The militia can begin drills by tomorrow."
"Then begin. Every able-bodied volunteer willing to fight will be organized and trained." He paused, then added, "We can no longer afford the luxury of assuming someone else will solve this problem."
The room grew quiet. Arthur placed both hands upon the table. "The King is preparing the defenses of the capital. Little hope remains for reinforcements from the Crown." A grim silence followed. "The Imperial Court has yet to respond. The Mage Association remains silent. Highcrest prepares for siege. Therefore, we proceed under the assumption that no aid is coming."
The statement settled heavily over the room. Not because it was shocking. Because everyone already believed it.
Arthur straightened. "We survived the first assault. Now we prepare for the second."
No grand speech followed. No promises of victory. Only orders—practical, necessary, the sort given by men and women who understood exactly how dangerous the days ahead would be.
Beyond the chamber walls, hammers already echoed throughout the city.