Chapter 663 (1/2)

Captain Platton sat on top of a tall stone tower, looking towards the South side of the Hallat River. The screen of trees made it difficult to tell exactly what was going on, but it seemed clear that the Wights were moving.

Construction, his instincts told him. This time Hell Maws for sure. With that cover, the Wights would push them back from the Hallat River and have free reign over the fertile countryside that fed most of the Central Domain. Farming was a largely mocked profession in Tellus, but if the farming villages in the surrounding area fell, the Central Domain would feel the absence very quickly.

‘Would that move them?’ Captain Platton wondered. Somehow, he knew that it wouldn’t. For whatever reasons, the elites held only apathy towards this invasion. It was painful and frustrating to admit, but there was no other explanation for the lack of response as reports of losses to the Wight horde poured in from every side.

When the Spearsource was lost, Tellus had gotten angry and frustrated. For the first time in the centuries since the great Calamity, they had lost their identity. Even if Captain Platton didn’t agree with the decision of the higher-ups to remain in the wings, he understood it; there wasn’t a fundamental threat that they needed to address.

But this was a different situation. The aggressive attacks from the Wights had revealed that they would ignore the precipitous losses that forcing the issue would cause. And they didn’t care at all. Unless the body was carefully annihilated, the Propagators had the ability to use the corpses to assemble more Wights without missing a beat.

That was what broke Captain Platton’s heart: he was being praised as a hero by all of the population who had heard of his exploits but all he managed was to waste hundreds of lives to delay the assault by a few weeks.

That was all the valiant defense that he orchestrated had managed. A few weeks.

And with the departure of his three most powerful warriors…

As if summoned by his thought, Azriel and Skarch pushed open the door without a knock and walked into Platton’s office. Randidly followed after the two of them, his expression slightly clouded.

Smiling warily, Captain Platton put down the stack of reports and nodded to the entrants. After all, they had given and sacrificed for his plans, it was not a problem to ignore the breaches of etiquette. “Good, you are all here. There is another day before it’s strictly necessary, but… since it appears the Wights will be working on their war machines for the next week, you may return to Hastam early. Perhaps the day of rest will do you good.”

“We have rested for two days already,” Azriel complained, and Randidly nodded.

“We have plenty of energy,” Randidly said, his eyes going over the dozens of papers scattered on Captain Platton’s desk. Platton’s heart sank when he realized the man pitied him. “If there is anything-”

“There is nothing you can do,” Captain Platton said. The room settled into an almost numb silence, and Platton winced. Perhaps too many of his morose guesses about the state of this war came through in his voice. In an attempt to get the mood back on track, he said. “Here, anyway. There is a tournament a hundred kilometers North that you are responsible for winning. Did you know that there are already betting pools, arranged by the C Corp?”

The three just looked at him, so Captain Platton soldiered on. “I took the liberty to arrange my paycheck go towards bets on each of you. Some of the men joined in on it. I’ll have you know that if one of you were to win the tournament, the rest of us would have enough to retire from the front lines and live like kings. So good luck.”

If anything, the silence grew worse in the wake of Platton’s pronouncement. All three of the eyes of the young spear users grew solemn as they looked at him.

“It has been an honor to be led by you,” Skarch said with a short bow. “If we weather this storm, my family will always welcome you at our table.”

“We will weather it, without a doubt.” Captain Platton found himself saying. He noticed that when he spoke, Randidly closed his eyes. It seemed that he was truly rusty when it came to lying.

“If we find unending glory,” Azriel said lightly as she tapped her spear on the ground, “You will be recognized in the song of our deeds. Likely not in the refrain, but as a minor character in an early verse.”

Snorting, Platton turned to Randidly. He reached into his pocket and produced his Soulstone. With a gesture, the energy he had gathered in the last month transferred over to Randidly’s own stone. It was a small thing, but-

Suddenly, Randidly’s eyes were glittering as he examined the energy in the air. There was a spark of hope in his eyes. But Captain Platton did his best to ignore it. He had allowed this young man to exhausted himself on this task for far too long. Best that he return to Hastam where he could be further refined. One day, he would be a spear user that could change the fate of a nation.

But not yet.