Chapter 171 Surrender the Queen
John and his subordinates descended further into the depths of the prison, their boots echoing against the cold, damp stone stairway. The air grew colder and heavier as they moved deeper, the faint torchlight from the upper levels barely reaching this far.
One of the soldiers raised a hand, a small orb of fire flickering to life in his palm. With a murmured spell, the fire expanded and lit the entire corridor, casting ominous shadows across the walls.
The sudden illumination caused a stir among the prisoners, who recoiled in confusion and irritation, shielding their eyes or retreating into the darkness of their cells.
"This should do it," John muttered with a smug grin as he approached the cell, where the commander was held. His footsteps slowed as he eyed the motionless figure slumped against the far wall, chains binding him tightly.
"You guys are starting to become a massive pain," John sighed, motioning for the guards to unlock the cell. "First it was that other guy, and now it's you lot. How many people did that king of yours send?" He stepped inside, the heavy iron door creaking shut behind him.
The commander lay face down, completely still, his unkempt hair covering his face as the chains clinked softly with the faint movement of the air.
"How the hell did you and your men even get defeated by those rascals?" John grumbled, standing over the prone figure. He paced back and forth, his irritation evident. "Now I'm in a tough spot because of your incompetence. You should be grateful you're still alive."
He stopped mid-rant, narrowing his eyes at the unresponsive commander. "Hey! You won't even say anything?" John's voice rose as he nudged the man with his foot.
The commander's body shifted slightly under the push, but it was clear he wasn't moving on his own. The chains clinked again as his lifeless form swayed briefly before settling back into stillness.
"Umm, sir…" one of the soldiers said hesitantly, crouching near the commander and placing two fingers against his neck. His face paled as he stood abruptly. "He's not breathing."
"What?!" John's eyes widened in disbelief, stepping closer to inspect the body himself. His voice grew louder, tinged with panic. "But how? He was alive just hours ago!"
"I don't know, sir. It looks like he took his own life," the soldier replied, his voice uneasy as he glanced at the commander's lifeless body.
John clenched his fists, the veins in his temples bulging. 'This can't be happening', he thought furiously. His gaze snapped to the soldier. "What about the other one?" he demanded.
Before anyone could respond, the ground beneath them began to rumble. The faint tremor grew stronger, causing the walls of the prison to vibrate and dust to fall from the ceiling. The prisoners in their cells erupted into panicked murmurs, their chains clinking as they tried to understand what was happening.
"I's another attack," one of the soldiers murmured, his eyes darting around the room.
"What's that idiot doing? It's not time yet!" John bellowed, his frustration spilling over as he turned on his heel. He paced back and forth, raking a hand through his hair, his composure unraveling.
"That bitch," he snarled under his breath, "if only she'd surrendered from the beginning. This is all her fault. Every. Last. Bit of it." His muttering turned into a full-blown rant as he vented his anger, seeming to forget his subordinates were still present.
"She could have ended this without bloodshed, but no, she had to resist, had to fight back. And now look where we are! A stalemate at best and chaos at worst. Everything is spiraling because of her damn stubbornness!"
John finally stopped pacing and turned back to his men, his face a mask of cold determination. "We're going to take the queen," he announced, his voice steady despite his rage.
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As he walked out of the cell, one of the soldiers hesitated before speaking up. "What about the King Slayer, sir?"
John froze mid-step, his expression darkening as he turned his head slightly. "Kill him," he said, his tone icy and final. Without waiting for further questions, he stormed out, his footsteps echoing in the now-silent prison.
*****
Outside, chaos reigned as the battle raged on. Explosions of fire lit up the night sky as mages from both sides hurled their most destructive spells. Arrows rained down in waves, clashing against hastily raised shields and magical barriers. The defenders of Laxen held their ground, their determination keeping the enemy at bay.
"Hold the line!" a commander shouted, his voice barely audible over the cacophony of battle. "Fire at will!"
The command was met with an eruption of energy as Laxen's mages unleashed a barrage of ranged spells. Flaming projectiles streaked through the air, colliding with enemy formations and causing chaos in their ranks. The defenders, though outnumbered, fought fiercely, refusing to give an inch.
*****
Rey, Asher, and the rest of the group rushed to the wall, their hurried steps carrying them past frantic soldiers and the wounded being carried away on stretchers.
"What's going on?" Rey asked as he reached the top of the wall, his eyes scanning the battlefield.
The sight before them was grim. The enemy forces seemed more organized and determined, their siege weapons advancing steadily despite the defenders' efforts.
"Why does this look worse than before?" Seraphina asked, her usually calm demeanor slipping into concern.
"That's because they're pulling out all the stops this time," Asher replied grimly, his sharp eyes catching the faint glimmer of advanced magical barriers protecting the enemy's siege engines. "They're done playing around."
Cedric clenched his fists, his gaze steely. "We need to do something, or this wall won't hold much longer."
"Well, there's only one thing we can do," Asher said, drawing his daggers. The faint glint of their blades reflected his determination.
"We fight it out," Rey added, gripping his sword tightly as he prepared to descend into the chaos below.
*****
The battlefield had gone eerily silent, the clash of steel and the roar of spells momentarily replaced by an ominous calm. The silence was broken by a loud, commanding voice, one that reverberated across the battlefield with authority.
"Release the queen at once, and there shall be no bloodshed!"
Heads turned toward the source of the voice. The figure who had spoken stood tall atop a hill overlooking the battlefield. It was the King of Vond, his royal armor glinting under the pale light of the moon. His presence commanded immediate attention.
The soldiers of Laxen froze, whispers spreading like wildfire.
"It's him… the King of Vond…"
"What is he doing here?"
"The king himself… this must be serious."
The realization caused an uproar among the ranks. Soldiers exchanged uneasy glances, their morale shaken by the sudden appearance of such a powerful adversary.
"Like hell we will! Fire!" barked one of the commanding officers, snapping the troops out of their stupor.
*****
Meanwhile, amidst the commotion, John and his soldiers emerged unexpectedly, dragging the queen of Laxen toward the wall.
Her regal appearance was now undone, her hair messy, and her face set in defiance. The soldiers who had once trusted John stared at him in shock and disbelief, their horrified gasps rippling through the ranks.
"What are you doing?" one of the soldiers demanded, his voice trembling with a mixture of anger and betrayal.
John sneered, tightening his grip on the queen's hair. "Isn't it obvious? I'm ending this war and saving my skin. You can join me if you wish," he said coldly, his voice dripping with venom.
Turning to face the King of Vond, John raised the queen slightly, forcing her to look toward the enemy king. "I have the queen," he called out. "And I will gladly hand her over. But don't forget your promise."
The King of Vond inclined his head slightly, his voice regal and composed. "Of course, my loyal subordinate. What kind of king would I be if I didn't keep my promises?"
One of John's former allies couldn't contain his outrage any longer. "John, you traitor! What are you trying to do?" he shouted, stepping forward as if to strike him down.
John smirked, pulling the queen closer to shield himself. "Don't be so naive. This war was over the moment you let me lead you. Now, stand down, or you'll all regret it."
The soldiers of Laxen stood frozen, their weapons half-raised, eyes darting between the traitorous John and the queen he held hostage. No one dared to make a move. The queen's life hung in the balance, and John's cold smile showed he was fully aware of his upper hand.
"Cowards," John sneered, tightening his grip on the queen's hair. "You're all spineless."
"I'm pretty sure selling your comrades like this counts as being a coward so you're the biggest coward here." Seraphina angrily interrupted him.
"Watch your tongue girl, I'm not as forgiving as you think." John replied.
"At least we won't look like fools if we say John's a traitor now," Evelina muttered, crossing her arms.
Freya glanced at her sharply. "Yeah, but that's not fixing this situation, now is it?"
Before anyone could respond, John suddenly leapt with unnatural speed, heading straight toward the King of Vond. His boots left a deep imprint in the soil as he launched himself through the air, the queen still in his grasp.
Several soldiers rushed forward to intercept him, their weapons gleaming as they prepared to strike. But their efforts were in vain. Arrows and spells rained down from Vond's forces, cutting them down one by one before they could reach him.
"Damn it! I don't want to die here." Finn cursed under his breath, gripping his weapon tighter as he watched the chaos unfold.
*****
Jett sat quietly, his back resting against the cold wall. The faint echoes of the battle above managed to seep through even to this isolated place.
"You know, now would be a good time to say something," Jett muttered, his voice breaking the oppressive silence. He wasn't speaking to anyone in the room, though his words were directed at the system that had been painfully quiet.
Getting no response, Jett stood and began pacing the cell, his mind racing. Thoughts of the battle raged within him. He itched to join the fight, to make a difference. Yet, he knew he couldn't leave, not until the system declared his trial complete. His fists clenched in frustration.
The sound of footsteps snapped him out of his thoughts. Five heavily armed soldiers entered the cell, their expressions grim and devoid of emotion.
"Turn around," one of them ordered sharply. Find your next read at empire
Jett tilted his head, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "You're an awfully strong bunch," he quipped, though his words earned no response.
He sighed inwardly. These weren't ordinary soldiers, they were elites. Their movements and aura made that clear. Jett instinctively understood their intention, but he didn't resist. He stood still, his mind racing for a plan, 'What do I do now? If worse comes to worst then I have no choice but to defend myself but I'm not even sure if that'll spoil anything for me.'
The soldiers formed a tight formation, their weapons glowing ominously as they prepared their strongest attack. The air in the cell grew heavy, charged with lethal energy.
'Anytime now would be nice,' Jett thought, gritting his teeth in frustration as he awaited some kind of intervention.
Then, it happened.
A new notification appeared before him, glowing faintly in the dim light:
[[Trial Complete]]
[[Calculating Rewards…]]
A smirk spread across Jett's face as he turned to glance at the soldiers just as they unleashed their devastating attack.
"Perfect timing," he murmured, bracing himself for what was to come.
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