Korelia, Great Keep
Lansius inhaled sharply and threw open his eyes as his limbs jolted beneath the blanket. Pale light seeped through the curtain, telling him it was barely morning. He breathed a sigh of relief. It had only been a brief sleep, not the deep, dangerous slumber he feared.
A heavy sigh of relief also came from the corner.
“Audrey...?” Lansius asked, his throat parched.
“Good morning,” she replied, forcing herself to smile.
“How long have I slept?”
“Only a couple of hours.” Audrey picked up a cup of water as she approached.
Lansius breathed a sigh of relief. He rubbed at his neck, which felt slightly cramped, then suddenly realized something. “Wait. I wasn’t here last night.”
“You fell asleep on the couch,” she said. “So deeply that I had the guards carry you here.”
Her words stunned him. “You let me fall asleep?”
“Yes. You looked too tired, and I doubted you could keep going without any rest. Besides, it wasn’t so dangerous as long as you were still snoring,” she explained, offering him the cup of water.
Lansius finally sat up in bed and took a sip. Afterward, he asked, “Snoring...?”
“If you were still snoring, even lightly, it meant some part of your consciousness was still within you. At least, that is what I believed,” she explained.
Lansius furrowed his brow. “So you are saying that if I am still snoring, you can still wake me up?”
“That is what I observed from the few times you fell asleep. It is always the deep slumber, the dreamless one, that is dangerous.”
“Interesting...”
Can I survive with just short stretches of sleep?
It still felt like a gamble to him. Perhaps he had only avoided the worst this time by chance. Then he realized something. “Wait. You watched me the whole night?”
“We have a baby boy, and I need to nurse Gilly every two to three hours. This is normal for me. For any mother,” she replied lightly.
Hearing that, Lansius’ expression warmed. “You’ve become a great mother.”
Her lips curved faintly. “And a great wife. Don't you forget that."
She took the cup from him and set it on the nearby bedside table. Then she leaned toward him, kissed his forehead, and whispered, “I’m so glad you woke on your own.”
The tremor in her voice stirred something in him. Lansius met her gaze.
They needed no more words. Slowly, their hands found each other, and they fell into a quiet embrace. For a long moment, they simply held on, as if neither wished to break it. Then, little by little, their hands began to wander, and before they knew it, they were undressing each other.
“Have you locked the door?” he asked.
“We haven’t selected chambermaids yet. No one will come.”
“Margo?”
“He should still be asleep. He worked far past midnight.”
“The rest?”
“You ordered the guards not to disturb us, so the maids won’t come. And if anyone does, they’ll knock.” She leaned closer, her voice lowering. “Besides, as if an unlocked door could ever stop you.”
Lansius pulled the blanket over them. Audrey giggled as he did.
“Give me another," she teased.
“But you said you didn’t want it.”
“My Lord, you shan’t argue against a prize.” She bit her lip, then her voice softened to a whisper. “Put another inside my belly.”
At that, Lansius lost all reason and surrendered himself to her warmth.
...
Audrey
While Lansius continued his work after breakfast, Audrey, assisted by Lady Astrid, received several important guests whom the House could not turn away. With their victorious return to Korelia, celebrations filled the streets, and important allies came to offer their congratulations. Despite Lord Lansius’ condition, they could not possibly reject these visits, so Audrey took the duty upon herself.
While many were allies or members of the Shogunate, such as the Lord of Galdia, not all visits concerned politics. Between meetings, she received two of the city’s physicians to seek information about her husband’s illness. She hoped for a breakthrough, but most of the medicines they proposed had already been tried. Still, they promised to work in silence, gathering ancient knowledge that might reveal the nature of the Lord’s ailment.
Audrey could only put her trust in them.
For her, the fear was too real. She could lose Lansius tonight or the next. Even last night, there had been moments when his sleep turned so deep that she had touched him gently, only to make sure he still stirred. Each time, she had fought the urge to wake him fully.
She was torn. She couldn’t possibly deny him rest. Not when he needed it so badly. Yet the fear of him closing his eyes and never waking again gnawed at her from within. Despite the needs of the Grand Alliance, she would rather see him healthy again, living unburdened. Audrey wouldn’t trade Lansius for anything, not even the whole Shogunate. She had come to love him that much.
With that fear still lingering in her mind, Audrey continued receiving visitors until the lengthy list neared its end. There had been allies, officials, and even the widow of a Lowlandian knight who had fallen in battle, whom Audrey and Astrid personally consoled.
Then, at last, she received a different kind of audience.
“My Lady, an emissary from the land of the Five Peaks,” the herald announced.
Audrey understood at once what Five Peaks meant. So did Lady Astrid, who accompanied her. Astrid leaned closer and whispered a warning, and Audrey gave a faint nod.
A man dressed in a subdued blue doublet stepped forward, his hat pressed to his chest as he saluted, while two servants carried an ornate wooden chest behind him. A woman clad in a pure white cloak walked behind the first man and curtsied.
Audrey gave a cold nod of acknowledgment.
The herald continued, “They request your audience and bring as tribute thirty pieces of gold, one hundred pieces of silver, and twenty pieces of our finest jewelry.”
As he spoke, the two servants who had placed the chest on the floor opened the locks and showed its contents. A scribe approached to inspect the offering. When he was finished, he gave a nod to the Lady.
The herald received the letter from the emissary and brought it to Audrey.
She accepted it, but left the seal unbroken. “A mighty gift,” Audrey began, her tone measured. “But until I know its purpose, I shall refuse. Now, you have my attention. Speak plainly.”
“The Land of the Five Peaks—”
“Plainly,” Audrey cut in. “Admit that you represent the Smugglers, or the Mountain Clans, if that is what you truly mean.”
The emissary bowed his head, chastened. “Yes, My Lady. Elder Antonius of the Mountain Clans sends word that he regrets the bitter conflict between our peoples and seeks amity with the Lord Shogun of the Grand Alliance. He also wishes it known that his house no longer stands with those clans who pursue war and treachery.”
“Words are easily spoken and easily broken.”
“My master has worked hard to change the clans from within,” the emissary replied. “And he has not been without success. The instigator of the war against the Shogunate Army has been thrown into the dungeon to await execution. As a token of good faith, my master has, at great personal risk, brought you his wife.”
Audrey’s eyes widened as the woman in white slowly drew back her veil.
She was indeed a beauty, though not quite on par with Felicity.
Still, Audrey’s expression hardened. “The Lord's House does not take women as tribute. Take her back, so she may mourn her husband.”
“I beg My Lady to reconsider,” the emissary said. “Her circumstances are not so simple. She was his wife in name, but never his ally.”
That brought a stir of confusion.
Lady Astrid stepped forward. “It would be wise to let the woman explain herself.”
Audrey considered it, then nodded.
The woman in white lowered her gaze and began to speak. “I was once bound to Clansman Roderic’s household. I am a Centurian.”
The woman left much unsaid, but it was enough for Audrey to understand. She drew a slow breath. With a flick of her wrist, she ordered the guards to escort the emissary and his servants outside.
Once the chamber was cleared, Audrey rose and signaled for Astrid and the woman in white to follow her into a different room. There, she sat on one of the ornate cushioned benches. Nearby, a scholarly-looking half-kin stood ready beside her desk. The Umberlander on duty had been listening from the side and would make a report if necessary.
“Please sit,” Audrey ordered.
Despite her surprise at seeing a half-beast, the woman in white obeyed and lowered herself gracefully beside Astrid.
“Swear by the Ancients that you will speak no lies,” Audrey demanded.
“I swear by the Ancients and the Emperors of Old,” the woman answered.
“Are you truly Centurian?” Audrey asked.
“I am. Just like my mother before me.”
“What do these clansmen mean by sending you here? Do they hope you will catch the Lord’s eye?”
“I dare not,” she answered nervously. “Truthfully, I know little. Meister Antonius took me in after Roderic’s clan house was confiscated.”
“So your husband is truly being punished?”
“To my knowledge, yes. He is being censured. I never saw him afterward, but it was clear that he, his clan, and many of his supporters had been thrown into cells.”
Audrey considered that for a moment.
“Tell me about Meister Antonius.”
“I only know that he is an Elder of the clans. He saved me, and for that I am grateful. When he told me to travel to Korelia and be presented as a gift, I had no way to refuse. Especially when he said that only by sending me to Roderic’s enemies could I truly be free.”
“Go on.”
“I am not certain, but the clans always seem to be fighting among themselves. Even disgraced men can rise again if the balance shifts.”
Audrey looked displeased. “You mean Roderic could still return and instigate another war?”
“It is unfortunately very possible.”
After some consideration, Audrey asked, “How badly did he treat you?”
The question cast a grim silence over the woman. Instead of answering, she asked, “Would you like to see the scars?”
Audrey didn’t back down. Not with something this important. “The door is locked, and we are all women here.”
The woman rose, loosened her clothes, and turned her back to them. Scars crossed her skin in old, pale lines and darker, uglier marks. They ran across her back, shoulders, and limbs, too many to mistake for accidents.
“He would strike anywhere but the face,” she said quietly. “Though when he was truly angry, even that didn’t stop him. He struck my eyes more than once. Even now, one sees less than the other.”
Lady Astrid’s face softened with quiet pain. “You need not say more.”
She helped the woman dress again. Once they were seated, Audrey spoke. “From what you have told me, I assume you know little of the clans’ military strength, structure, or anything else that would benefit us. Am I correct?”
“Yes. I only know that animal, Roderic.”
Audrey weighed that in silence before saying, “You offer us little of use, yet you still carry the risk of a spy. We have just endured a grave incident in Midlandia involving corrupted magic. We cannot take chances.”
The woman trembled and bowed so low her head almost touched the low table between them. “Please. They won’t take me home. And even if they do, I have no future there. They’ll find ways to sell me back to my former owner. Let me be a lowly maid, a cook’s assistant, anything.”
Her voice broke, and for a moment she could not continue.
“Anything but sending me back...”
Astrid exchanged a glance with Audrey. Clearly, she had sympathy for this woman.
“Pardon my bluntness, but how educated are you?” Audrey asked.
“I know my books. They were the only thing that kept me sane.”
Audrey studied her more closely. “Can you read more than tales and songs?”
The woman’s mouth tightened. “Yes, My Lady. Letters, contracts, and old chronicles. I was taught enough to be useful.”
For the first time, Audrey allowed herself a faint smile. “Then I might have a place for you.”
The woman stared at her as if she were seeing a savior.
“I have a brother and an ailing father in faraway Toruna. Though they are not related by blood, they have been kind to me. They have given me a small estate there. You are to manage it on my behalf. You shall live as my guest in Toruna Castle. And if you are grateful, then take care of my ailing father and his garden of sour cherries.”
The place was so far away that even if the woman were a spy, she would be of little use to the clans. Furthermore, she would be watched.
Toruna had been a den of agents since Bengrieve’s day. They would be perfect against spies.
Tears flowed from the woman’s eyes. “My Lady, gratitude from the bottom of my heart.”
“My brother, the baronet, is also powerful. You’ll be safe there, beyond the clansmen’s reach. Though it is not without a caveat.”
“My Lady?”
“My brother by adoption is a womanizer. He does not force women, but he is shameless with willing lasses. Consider yourself warned.”
The woman lowered her gaze. “Your warning is received, My Lady. I shall conduct myself carefully.”
“It will take time to arrange the journey. Until then, you will remain as my guest. You shall tell my scribe everything you know about the Mountain Clans.” Audrey glanced at the half-kin, who stepped forward and dipped her head.
“I will record your testimony and assist you while you remain under My Lady's protection," the half-kin said.
The woman in white bowed her head. “Then I shall cooperate fully.”
“I think that is all,” Audrey said, glancing at Astrid.
Astrid gave a small nod.
But the woman in white hesitated. “One more thing, My Lady.”
“Speak," Audrey said.
“May I consider myself free? No longer a slave?” Her voice trembled despite her effort to control it. “If so, would you bestow upon your humble servant a new name?”
Audrey inhaled deeply. Her own past stirred in her mind, sharp as an old wound. “I shall name you Aria, after an old friend I once had. Are you satisfied with the name?”
The woman lowered her head, and tears gathered again in her eyes. “I, Aria, am humbly grateful for the name.”
With that finished, Audrey rose, prompting everyone else to rise with her.
Guards were arranged to escort Aria to a guest chamber. As a precaution, Audrey assigned a half-kin to watch her from the shadows.
Meanwhile, she ordered the emissary to rest while the House carefully examined the letter.
“Antonius, just what kind of man are you?” she muttered, handing the letter to Astrid.
Unlike Lansius, Audrey wasn’t a good judge of character. Lansius had a quiet way of reading people that defied easy explanation. Or perhaps he was simply that perceptive and keen, able to read motives from a glance and a few words. Audrey had instinct, but it worked best only when she faced someone directly.
Even that had not worked with Aria.
“Motives...” she mumbled.
“He is bold,” Astrid said of Antonius, studying the letter. “To offer a Centurian bride like this... Many would misunderstand the move.”
Audrey nodded. “I shall bring this matter to the Lord. For now, keep this quietly between ourselves and the council.”
“As you wish, My Lady.”
“If what she said is true, then she has suffered enough,” Audrey said. “Hopefully, Toruna will be a kind place for her.”
***
Lansius
Even with reddened eyes, all the ranking staff appeared at the court and were relieved to see Lansius awake, even looking fresher than they did despite the dark circles beneath his eyes.
Lansius led the small council meeting, addressing various issues and the many details of his plans, which now covered nearly every aspect of ruling his vast domains. After having time to think, the staff had questions, concerns, and missing details they wanted clarified.
Despite being overwhelmed, Lansius patiently explained his vision while carefully reminding them that his plans were not without flaws and should not be treated as something rigid.
“Waterwheels and the works they can power should remain the priority: mills, washing, pumps, and hammer mills. Alongside them, steel, coal, granaries, education, and libraries. But if circumstances change, adapt. Do not blindly follow my plans.”
Sir Michael asked, “But who shall have the authority to—”
“Everyone,” Lansius cut in. “Everyone of you should be able to question, discuss among yourselves, and make decisions.”
“We fear we are less than able. Even if we could, we fear we might only disrupt everything.”
“What can break will break,” Lansius said. “Your task is to fix it, reconsider the plan, and make it work.”
Sir Michael and Calub nodded. They knew it was pointless to hope for another who could match Lansius.
A thought struck Lansius. He raised his palm as he considered it, then said, “However—”
That brought anticipation to his retinue.
“You might find good counsel from Lady Valerie.”
“Lady Valerie?” Calub asked.
Lansius leaned forward in his seat. “Although she comes from a different region and had a different upbringing, she and I came from the same continent. You may ask her, and she might be able to answer. Perhaps not in detail, but enough to give you a hint or a direction.”
That gave the chamber a small measure of relief. The burden had not vanished, but it no longer rested on them as heavily.
The staff returned to their notes and continued their work.
After the exhausting session, Lansius took a break for a private lunch with his family, a moment he cherished, knowing he might not see them again. Seeing Tanya, Mother Arryn, and little Gilly, Lansius couldn’t help but prepare more plans for them as well.
As Lansius and Margo retreated to the private garden adjacent to the Great Keep, with no one close enough to eavesdrop, he asked, “What do the others say about my sister, Tanya?”
Margo understood what he meant to ask and answered, “The ladies-in-waiting gossip about her. They question whether she is truly a part of your family. They wonder why Lady Tanya has not even been assigned a small holding, like those given to knights.”
Lansius snorted, finding it funny and repulsive at the same time.
“All I had were confiscated manors and villages. Why would I give such things to her?” Lansius asked, half to himself, then gazed at Margo. “She is the one who saved me. To give her such manors and villages would be an insult. She only has to ask, and I’ll give her anything she wants.”
Margo nodded solemnly. “It is only fitting, My Lord.”
“But she would never ask, because she never wants to become a burden to me. I shall give her the other crown of my domain.” Lansius paused. “Call the scribes and my family, including the Lady, to the midday council. I have something to announce.”
“My Lord.” Margo obeyed at once, relaying the order to the guards, who rushed to notify the others.
While they prepared for the meeting, Lansius headed to his study chamber. He still had one thing to do.
He took a letter from the inside breast pocket of his coat and unfolded it with care. The handwriting inside was elegant and familiar. The woman who had written it had helped save his army at the Monastery, and he had not yet been able to reply to her personally.
Margo had already prepared ink and paper for him. Lansius sat, took up the quill pen, and began to write.
Dear Felicity,
I write to give my gratitude for your wonderful gift of the dwarven earrings. They helped spare me from the unthinkable and saved my army from annihilation.
He paused, the pen resting lightly between his fingers.
Without the set of dwarven earrings Felis had given him, he would have been blind to the disaster unfolding in the Monastery. The earrings were far more capable than the older pair. So capable that he had allowed Ingrid to use one, despite what had happened with the old earring. With one in Ingrid’s possession, the other had been given to a trusted agent embedded in the army, not to spy, but as a safeguard in case the campaign took an unexpected turn.
After all, the Monastery was no ordinary enemy.
That precaution had proven necessary. The rise of the undead and the Saint’s transformation into a Lich were calamities nobody could have expected. Not even the Hunters he had brought with him.
Because of that earring, a simple gift given without any design, Lansius had been able to intervene before the Monastery swallowed his men whole.
“Fortuna,” he muttered, drawing a deep breath as he thought of the fair lady with the bluest eyes and golden hair.
He had been blessed. Again and again, chance had opened a path for him to grow beyond his means. “It is only fitting that I build a shrine for her...”
“My Lord?” Margo asked.
Lansius chuckled faintly. “It’s nothing.”
He then put Felicity’s reward into writing, awarding her a respectable sum of gold along with two manors near Brunna in her name. It was a worthy reward for helping save his army, and he was certain she would need both the gold and the income to support Lord Arte in his wars in Arvena.
Though still separated by the river, the two manors would give them more resources near Brunna, Arte’s home base, where Arvenian refugees had taken shelter and now underwent training.
Drawing a deep breath, Lansius could only hope this was an equal exchange for all her blessings. He did not want Fortuna to mark him as ungrateful.
When the ink had dried, he folded the letter and tucked it into his pocket. Audrey and the council would need to learn of this first, but he was certain they would not object. It was a sound decision, and the Arvenian cause still held strong support among his old retinue.
...
It did not take long for the council to assemble. Tanya came with Mother Arryn, Lady Ella with her Hunter guardian, Calub with Lady Cecile, and Sir Michael with Lady Astrid. The Captain of the Guard and several high-ranking officers were also present. Arvenians, Lowlandians, Midlandians, Nicopolans, and even Umberlanders had gathered in his court.
“My Lord,” they greeted Lansius as he entered.
“My apologies for summoning you to a sudden meeting, but I have an announcement to make,” Lansius said as he walked to his seat.
They all looked at him in anticipation.
Audrey stood waiting and only sat after Lansius had taken his seat.
“As you are well aware, Lady Tanya is my sister. Today, I shall make it formal and adopt her into my House.”
Tanya was stunned. She had never expected something like this to happen.
“Brother,” she muttered, troubled by the thought that this was likely his farewell gift.
“Scribe, write this down for me,” Lansius said with authority.
“My Lord,” the young scribe answered dutifully.
“I, Lansius, Lord Shogun of the Grand Alliance, Lord of Korelia, Lord of Midlandia, Lord of South Hill, Protector of Korimor, and so forth,” he said, then gave a faint snort at the weight of it all. “Complete the titles properly later. What matters is this: I hereby take Lady Tanya into my House, with all the rights, honors, and authority that come with my name. From this day onward, she shall be recognized as my sister by law as well as by blood.”
The chamber fell into stunned silence. Many eyes turned toward Tanya, some kinder, others sharper with realization. After his son, and beneath the Lady of the House, Tanya now stood nearest to his lands, his name, and his legacy.
Lansius was not finished. “Furthermore, by my authority as Lord Shogun and by the rights vested in my House, I hereby bestow upon Lady Tanya the City of Canardia, with its lands, revenues, duties, and protections. From this day onward, she shall hold it in my name and be known before all as the Lady of Canardia.”
Tanya gasped, trembling where she stood. The chamber stirred around her.
Canardia was no mere holding. It was a vital city at the heart of their domain in Midlandia, and the second seat of power of the Shogunate.
Lansius looked upon his retinue and found no objection. Some were stunned, but none spoke against him. He then turned to Audrey, who gave him a firm nod.
He continued, “I ask the council to forgive me for this selfish indulgence. I cannot help but wish for my little sister to live happily.” His gaze softened. “Sister.”
“My Lord,” Tanya answered, curtsying despite the tears already gathering in her eyes.
“I wish...” Lansius paused. His breath caught for the briefest moment, and the chamber held its breath with him. “No. I command you to live happily.”
At those words, Tanya broke into tears.
Audrey rose and approached Tanya, consoling both her and Mother Arryn, who was already weeping in silence.
The women in the court also shed tears. They understood what this truly was: not merely a grant of land, but a brother setting his house in order while he still had the strength to speak.
Even as they denied it, they could feel the truth. His gaze was no longer as sharp. The hardened will that had borne him through war and ruin was finally showing its cracks. The man who had carried armies and built the Empire of the Steppes now looked terribly weary.
Lansius was fading before their eyes.
And still, he smiled without regret.
***
The Mountain City of Clavieras
It was a hot midday, with the mountain feeling as if it had been charred beneath the sun. Farkas sat inside a shadowy warehouse, where the air hung thick and unmoving. Around him, his men kept quiet as they tried to rest. Sweat darkened their clothes, slicked their faces, and clung to their hair, but the heat was not what bothered him most.
What bothered him was the responsibility thrust upon him.
At first, the burden of Operation Iron Nails had belonged to more capable men, like Sir Arius of Three Hills and the senior knights of the Crimson Company. But after they withdrew upon finding the stone gate, the entire operation fell onto his shoulders.
Farkas was still in his twenties. Three years ago, he had been only a poor hunter with nothing to his name. Though he had learned from the best mentor he could ask for, Sigmund the skald, he was still inexperienced. Now he was not only part of the elite SAR information-gathering unit, the Orange Skalds, and its armed branch, the Black Bandits, but also commander of the entire Skirmisher force, along with the penal battalion reinforcements from Midlandia.
His young soul did not fear punishment. More than anything, he feared failure.
That made him think of his mentor.
“How can I possibly learn all this?” Farkas remembered once asking Sigmund. “No lowborn man could do all this. You’re a skald. You had an education.”
“You’re smart,” Sigmund had told him. “In time, you’ll do better. If you want proof, look no further than Lord Lansius. I was with him when he was nothing, you know? He struggled, faced rejection, and was beaten down by disbelief. Everyone shrugged him off, but he kept going. All he needed was a few people who trusted him, and he made history.”
Farkas remembered his mentor’s stories fondly.
“What he entrusts to us, his officers, is nothing but a small share of his burden,” Sigmund had said, with clear awe for their Lord. “I only wish for him to keep leading. Mark my words, I have no doubt he’ll make a paradise on Promissia. We can’t let those in the Tiberia hoard all the fun. Perhaps it’s time for a Kingdom in the south to rise.”
Farkas inhaled deeply but remained motionless as sweat dripped from his chin.
They had dared to crack only one window for ventilation.
Still, the burden of command pressed on his shoulders. The lives under his command, including the penal battalion, numbered no fewer than five hundred. Two hundred were now deployed, not counting the slaves who had turned to their side.
Even that had not gone as expected. Many of the slaves, especially the higher-ranked ones, had not been thrilled to be freed. They had lived under the Mountain Clans too long, adopted their ways too deeply. Many had climbed the steps of that cruel order and wanted no part in this action against their masters.
Thus, his men had spilled much blood, whether Mountain Men or slaves. Though he could not be sure, there were no innocents among them.
He had seen slaves killing other slaves for vengeance or retribution.
It was ugly.
The chamber stirred as the door slowly opened, and one of his disguised scouts slipped inside.
“Speak,” Farkas said before the man could greet him.
“The plan is in ruins,” the scout reported, his voice strained. “The Mountain Clans have thrown green miasma over the entrance to the underground passage.”
The words brought a grim murmur from the men around him.
“They didn’t take the bait?” Farkas asked, as calmly as he could.
“They kept clear of the passage.”
Farkas clenched his fist. The plan had been to lure them deeper, where part of his force and the freed slaves could spring the ambush. Now, everything stood in jeopardy. He could already imagine his men running blind from the vile green miasma, coughing, clawing at their throats, and dying in the dark.
“Commander, what is your order?” one of his men asked.
The others looked to him, their eyes sharp as knives. Their confidence had not waned, even after his failure.
Farkas looked down at his clenched fist. Slowly, he forced it open.
“As the Lord once told me, if you can’t run and you’re cornered, attack like a cornered beast.” His gaze hardened. “And we’re smarter than beasts.”
Before anyone could answer, the door opened again. A lookout slipped inside, urgency written across his face.
“I saw ten men approaching,” he reported. “They took the ruse.”
Farkas brought his palms together with a sharp smack.
“It's time to spring the second trap.”
***
PS: Hi again. For those who just joined, please understand that I may not post as often because I choose to deliver longer, beefier chapters. Our schedule is Tuesday and Friday.
The average chapter on Royal Road is around 3,000 words. Even if someone posts 3 times a week, that usually averages around 9,000 words. Horizon currently averages around 8,000–10,000 words each week, and that is already after edits.
So please consider that before saying I don’t work as actively as other creators.😅
Note that I forgot to add the Felis earring detail during the battle vs undead. Hopefully, it now answers some lingering questions about how Lansius suddenly appeared in the Monastery. I did some light edits to the chapter but don’t worry, nothing significant changed.
So, Tanya is now the Lady of Canardia.🥳
Lansius really couldn’t help himself when it came to his little sister, could he? What do you think?
We’ll see more of Lansius, but I can’t guarantee anything.
We’ll see what happens...🤫
As always, gratitude for supporting Horizon of War! 💎💖🦆