486. Moves To Be Made

486. Moves To Be Made

Omen: 12, 16

Adam yawned, waking early in the morning. He was trapped under his triplets, who were sprawled against him, as always. That morning felt different, but he supposed it was because it was the Twilight Month, when magic in the world became chaotic.

‘Thirteen months,’ Adam thought. ‘Why did it have to be such an unlucky number?’

Adam spent his morning with his twins, though his triplets were never too far from their father. Since Jarot had left back to the main family estate, they had begun to squirm and cry more often. Adam fed them from the spoon Jurot had carved for them long ago. The Iyrman had spent several evenings on each spoon to make sure they were perfect.

“What is this?” Adam asked. “How can you do this to me? Do you think you can bully me now that you cannot bully your greatfather?”

Jirot looked up at her father quizzically, before bursting into a giggle. She squealed and reached up for her father’s face, wanting to touch his soft skin.

“I’ll forgive you only because you are cute,” Adam said, before going to change her clothy, doing the same for baby Jarot, who had the same schedule as his sister.

Katool squatted over her baby sister, Maool. “She is so small, Cousin Adam.”

“Yes,” Adam said, recalling how many times they’ve had this conversation.

“She is so cute.” Katool crawled beside her sister, who turned her head to look her way, squinting at the towering toddler.

‘Taygak and Katool are the ones that are always looking at their siblings,’ Adam thought, looking to the other children, who were all assisting their families with chores. ‘I should try and get them all interested in the babies once they’re older. Should I wait until they can at least crawl? That probably is a good idea...’

Elder Zijin entered the courtyard, noting the Iyrmen sweeping the ground and working on cleaning their homes. He smiled and waved at the children who always seemed to eager to greet him, even if he was becoming a more frequent sight.

“Good morning,” Adam greeted the Elder.

“Good morning,” Zijin replied, placing down a pouch of gems before the Half Elf. “Your payment for last month.”Diiscover new stories at novelhall.com

“Appreciated,” Adam said, peeking into the pouch, noting the gems. There were ten, as expected. “Is there any chance I can bother the Iyr to send the coin to the Adventurer’s Guild?”

“Is it for Nobby’s family?”

“Yes.”

They were the newest armies which had formed, ten thousand fresh soldiers. Most were peasants who answered the call, wanting a chance to gain coin and glory on the battlefield, and some who hoped to be knighted for their efforts. They had been trained hard the last six months, all the while the smiths of Central Aldland worked overtime to create the arms and armour, mostly spears, shields, and helmets.

Of the two new armies, one wore cloaks of black, and the other, cloaks of chequered black and white.

The Black Legion.

The Chequered Legion.

They were but the first of many new armies which would be formed over the next few years. Each legion contained four thousand peasants, and a thousand true soldiers, those who had been trained longer than just six months. There were also hundreds of officers, each as powerful as a Bronze Rank Adventurer, though there were many who reached Steel and Silver.

King Justinian Blackwater inhaled deeply as he stared at the soldiers marching through the capital streets, surrounded by his Royal Guard, ten Knights with the title of King’s Blade, who had been trained within the Order of the King. The ten beside him were each as powerful as a Mithril Rank Adventurer, though they were supported by several other Knights, giving even the greatest of enemies pause.

‘Soon,’ Justinian thought, watching his soldiers march through the streets. ‘Tomorrow we march to the Iyr. Four legions and ten companies. We will meet with Duke Lionheart, and the Iyr will see what true strength will look like.’

The Iyr, which had only fifty thousand people in total, could only stare with mouths agape at such a force. Thirty thousand soldiers will march onto their lands, with dozens of warriors each at least Mithril Rank.

‘If only I could bring the Dragon,’ Justinian thought, though he wasn’t foolish enough to mess with such a terrifying creature, especially when she held powers which were unimaginable. There was a reason as to why the Blackwaters had ruled the land for two thousand years, and as to why the capital city had never been razed to the ground before. It was all thanks to the Ancient Gold Dragon who slumbered deep within the lake, accepting tribute of thousands of gold monthly, and more, for her assistance.

‘The Grand Army,’ the King thought. ‘No, not yet. Twenty or thirty thousand soldiers is too small. We must aim for fifty, no, one hundred thousand soldiers. Once I deal with the traitor to the south, I can take the Grand Army to deal with Aswadasad, bringing law and order to the land. Once the sea routes are secured, the islands will be a simple matter to deal with.’ He smiled. He would use the experience of the two wars to train the soldiers, and once they were trained on this land, the soldiers could head to the islands. With two wars under their belt, what could possibly deal with them?

The Beast Waves would also train the army on the way to the Iyr. Then they would head south and deal with the traitors, gaining more experience. It would take a few months at most to deal with the south, which had yet to recover from what the Elves had done. Then they would march to Aswadia, and there they would wet their blades a final time, before they would move to the islands they had won.

‘After the two wars, who would have an army as powerful as ours?’ Justinian smiled. Once his army had finally managed to bring the islands under his fold, he would then be able to set his sights on finally uniting the land under his banner. There would be no region which would not belong to Aldland, from the Dragon Kingdom to the north, to the Shendom to the south, it would finally be a united land under the Blackwaters.

Such a thing would have been unimaginable to his ancestors, who had spilled their blood against the Iyrmen and Elves for generations, but Justinian looked across his two new legion, who were but two of the twenty which would be formed over the next decade, not including the many guards and personal forces of the various nobles, which would be rolled into the Grand Army.

‘No, not one hundred thousand, but two hundred thousand,’ Justinian thought, thinking to the resources the island possessed.

Two hundred thousand soldiers, and if the islands were half as rich as he thought, he would not stop there.

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Imagine thinking two hundred thousand soldiers (which you don't have) could threaten the Iyr.

*Laughs in all the people who are currently in the Front Iyr that aren't even Iyrmen.*