//Detecting//
//System Adjustment Required//
//System Adjustment T-24 hours//
That was the last thing that the enigmatic system of his said before going silent once more. Khao'khen just put the thought of the system coming back online on back of his mind, it was not like he was fully dependent on it.
The gilded halls of Ereia's palace echoed with nervous whispers. While the banners of the royal family still flew proudly above the city, the absence of their king cast a heavy shadow over the assembled court. King Gyassi, unconscious after the brutal clash with the Orcish horde, lay in the royal chambers, his well-being still unknown.
The Queen, Elara, a woman renowned for her grace and wisdom, had refused to take the reins of the kingdom, citing her lack of military experience. In her stead, the Chancellor, Lord Eamon, a wiry man with a perpetually furrowed brow, had assumed the role of acting ruler.
Many were against him taking the lead, but with the presence of Rakabis, his son, who brought the king back from the battlefield and was regarded as a hero, they had to back down. "We must hold strong," he declared, his voice trembling slightly, "until the King awakens, or until the tide of war turns."
His words were met with murmurs of agreement, though the fear in their eyes was evident. The remaining Royal Army, a mere fraction of its former strength, stood guard, their faces grim. The Royal Mages, their arcane powers was very important to the upcoming battle, looked like weary hawks, their eyes constantly scanning the horizon for any sign of the encroaching orcs.
The city's militia, hastily assembled from shopkeepers, bakers, and even artisans, stood shoulder to shoulder with the remaining few seasoned soldiers, their eyes wide with a mix of terror and determination.
"We cannot expect to hold them off for long," said the Captain of the Royal Guard, a grizzled veteran named Kael. "We need a miracle, a diversion, anything to buy us time."
Lord Eamon, his face creased with worry, nodded. "I have a plan, but it will require a lot of sacrifice on the side of the royal family."
He glanced at the map sprawled across a makeshift table, its surface worn from repeated use. The lines representing the Burning Sands, the vast, unforgiving desert they sought to conquer, were etched deep, their starkness mirroring the brutal reality of their campaign. Ishtar, the last bastion between them and their goal, was a formidable obstacle.
He listened to the muted roar of the horde, their energy slowly returning after the recent skirmishes. A revitalized sense of purpose pulsed through them, fueled by the promise of victory and glory. Khao'khen, however, remained cautious. He knew that victory wouldn't be easily won. The people of Ereia, though outnumbered and weaker, were fierce defenders, and their desperation could easily turn into a potent weapon.
*****
The sun had fully set, and the moon cast an ethereal glow upon the city, a stark contrast to the tension that gripped its inhabitants. Upon the highest tower, Queen Elara stood, her gaze fixed on the distant horizon. She sensed the weight of her sister's approach, their shared power a bond that needed no words.
Her sister, a skilled archer and somewhat of a mage, moved with a grace that belied her deadly abilities. They had kept their identities hidden, but now, the kingdom needed them more than ever. "Our people are afraid," Elara said, her voice steady despite the turmoil within. "We might need to act. The orcs will not wait."
Her sister, a mysterious figure clad in shadow, nodded, her bow at the ready. "Our magic is strong, and our aim is true. We will not let our sisters be at risk. Not while we draw breath." Below them, the city stirred with activity.
Lord Eamon's plan was set in motion, and the royal treasury had been emptied of its precious mana crystals. Mages worked tirelessly to strengthen the magical barrier, their incantations filling the air with an otherworldly hum. The soldiers, bolstered by the presence of the nobility's personal guards, readied themselves for the coming battle, their determination a shield against the fear that threatened to consume them.
Unbeknownst to them all, a different power was at play. Faynah's organization were on the move, keeping tracks of the movements in the city.
The moon cast an ethereal glow upon the city, illuminating the anxious faces of its defenders. Lord Eamon's plan was in motion, and the magical barrier surrounding Ishtar shimmered with a potent energy, a testament to the power of the mana crystals. The mages, their eyes burning with arcane power, stood at the ready, prepared to unleash their spells upon the approaching horde. The soldiers, their armor gleaming in the moonlight, braced themselves for the coming battle, their determination somewhat wavering.
As the tension mounted, a figure among the shadows, her steps carrying her towards the highest tower where Queen Elara stood. It was Faynah, her features shrouded in darkness, her presence unnoticeable. She carried with her an air of mystery and an aura of power. "Who's there?," Syvis shouted, her voice filled with alarm. She would have missed the figure watching them if not for her abilities that was somewhat related to the shadows.
Receiving no reply, Syvis' arrow already aimed at the mysterious figure was unleashed, her arrow coated with magic. The magic imbued arrow embedded itself upon the stonewalls, harming no one.