The crowd surged forward in excitement, each man fearing he might be left out of the coming battle.
Kaen raised a hand, gesturing for silence.
Then he nodded to Lairon, who stepped forward and unfolded the map they had painstakingly charted over the past two weeks.
"This is the terrain map of the Troll-woods," Kaen began. "It was drawn under Lairon's command by our ranger patrols. It took them half a Month to complete."
He pointed at the black marks concentrated in the center. "These dots here mark the orc outposts. The largest one indicates the valley stronghold occupied by both orcs and trolls."
"We don't yet know their exact numbers, but based on our estimates, the orcs number at least ten thousand. As for the trolls, there are no fewer than fifty."
"This will be a battle against overwhelming odds. That's why I'm mobilizing all available forces—even the garrison from Azure Spring will be called in to . So don't worry—you'll have your share of the fight."
"Our numbers are limited. We can't afford a war of attrition. That means we must formulate a flawless battle plan—one that ensures our victory."
With that, a storm of strategy discussions erupted. Everyone gathered around the map, offering ideas and counterpoints.
At the heart of the map lay the orc-held valley, nestled in the forest's core. Its shape resembled a bottle—round and deep, with sheer cliffs on three sides, each rising a hundred meters or more. Only a single thirty-meter-wide entrance led in or out, heavily guarded by orc forces.
Scattered outside this entrance were numerous outposts. While a small scouting team might sneak by, any larger force would be spotted instantly.
As debate raged, opinions diverged.
Some argued for a direct assault on the entrance. Others suggested luring the enemy out to fight on open ground. A few proposed lowering troops into the valley with ropes, striking from within and collapsing their defenses from the inside out.
In the end, Kaen listened to all proposals, carefully weighing each suggestion before weaving them together into a single, cohesive strategy.
He pointed to the map once more and spoke:
"The orcs are bound to concentrate their forces at the valley entrance. A frontal assault would be costly and likely futile. So, we must rely on cunning."
"Look here—the valley's surrounded by sheer cliffs. If we send a small elite unit down by rope and cause a loud enough disturbance, we can draw the orcs' attention inward."
"Once they scramble to defend from within, the entrance will be vulnerable. That's when we strike, and take it."
"Even though it's the dead of winter, the trees in the Troll-woods are thick with leaves. Snow rests atop the canopy, but the ground is covered in dry, dead foliage."
"We only need to bring oil. After we secure the entrance, we set fire to the fallen leaves."
"Those cliffs—once their shield—will become their oven. The blaze will rise, purging the darkness in one roaring inferno. And it will be contained entirely within the valley."
As Kaen's voice fell silent, every gaze turned toward him as if he were some madman.
Madness. Sheer madness.
Who would have thought of using fire in the dead of winter?
And yet… the more they considered it, the more feasible it sounded.
They could already picture it—the valley consumed in flame, winter skies blazing red with fire, while orcs and trolls thrashed and howled in agony.
A shiver ran through the assembled commanders.
Excitement mixed with a tinge of pity. To face such a foe as Kaen… was truly misfortune beyond measure.
At present, Kaen commanded two elite units:
-> 100 Dúnedain Rangers
Alongside them were three well-trained veteran corps:
-> 50 Mounted Skirmishers
In total, he had 600 troops. Adding the 300 stationed at Azure Spring brought the number to 900. ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ NoveI[F]ire.net
After careful consideration, Kaen decided to pull 100 soldiers from Azure Spring. He would leave behind 100 spearmen to defend Elariel, forming a 200-strong defense.
He would personally lead the 500 troops to march into the Troll-woods.
Everything was swiftly put into motion.
Tifa clung to Kaen, her strength utterly spent, her body curled against his. In a soft, wistful tone, she whispered:
"You're the king. I won't speak to you like a woman pleading for her lover's safety. I'll only say this: return safely from every battle."
"If your mind still holds thoughts for your treasurer, your healer, your general, your architect… and the infant kingdom that still clings to life—then let each battle end with your safe return."
Kaen cradled her gently and solemnly promised, "I swear it. I will return."
The next morning, in the snow-covered military encampment…
Soldiers stood in perfect formation, armored and ready, their sharp gazes fixed on Kaen as he stood atop the platform.
He wore brilliant silver armor edged with gold, his figure tall and commanding, eyes fierce as fire as he swept his gaze over his men.
In a thunderous voice, he declared:
"Beyond lies the Troll-woods, teeming with orcs, wargs, and rock trolls."
"Those foul, vile beasts seek to defile our homes, enslave our kin, and feast upon our flesh."
"We will not wait for them to strike first. We will go to them and let our spears and arrows speak."
"This is not their playground. This is the Kingdom of Eowenríel. This is our land!"
"We will forge our courage and glory with their blood!"
The soldiers roared in unison, their voices echoing through every street and alley of Elariel.
With a final cry of "March!" from Kaen, the 500-strong force stepped forward in perfect rhythm, advancing toward the dark forest under their commander's lead.
The townspeople lined the roadsides, hands clasped in prayer.
"May the gods watch over His Majesty the King."
"Protect our warriors—may blades not touch them, and may victory walk beside them."