The sky was the same gray as ash, and silence had fallen over the camp like a curtain too heavy to lift.
Kael sat with his back to a broken cart, the ground beneath him. Around him, the remnants of battle clung to the earth... shattered blades, scorched armor, the bitter stench of scorched flesh still rising from the field. Soldiers passed him warily, their eyes lingering just a beat too long. Some looked away. A few nodded. None came closer.
He didn't blame them.
He still felt the echo of the Jack. His veins thrummed with something cold, something wrong. Every movement took more effort than it should. His hands trembled when he tried to make a fist.
The cards hovered in the air before him, dim and slow-spinning. The fifth, Lucky Draw, had returned to its inert state but now, a new glow pulsed faintly from the next one in the sequence.
The sixth card floated forward. Kael focused.
Card 6: Shieldwall
Effect: When activated, creates a curved magical barrier in front of the user for 10 seconds. Blocks both physical and magical attacks. One use per hour. Cooldown applies.
Kael let out a dry, humorless breath.
"Great. A wall," he muttered. "About damn time."
A soldier approached from the edge of the clearing, hesitating before stepping closer. "My prince," he said, voice stiff. "The commander requests your presence in the war council."
Kael got to his feet slowly, still feeling the weight of exhaustion in his limbs. The soldier led him across the camp, past tents and watchfires, toward a massive red tent at the center. It towered above the others, its canvas walls taut and sun-faded.
The front flap was open where he could hear voices inside—strained, low, arguing.
He stepped through and silence dropped like a blade.
Kael didn't speak. He walked to the nearest empty chair and sat down. The weariness wasn't just in his body, it had settled into the core of him.
The others cleared their throats and, one by one, sat down as well.
There were seven of them, each marked by battle in their own way. Scarred, broad, commanding. Veterans with presence that didn't need announcing.
The hulking man with the shield, who Kael remembered from the battlefield—the one who had stood his ground against the smaller beast—was the first to speak.
"Your Highness," he said, voice steady but curious, "what was that skeleton that kneeled at your feet?"
Kael blinked once. He hadn't expected the question, and for a moment, the only answer that came to him was the thrum still running cold beneath his skin.
He let the silence stretch.
"Magic?" he said finally, voice dry with sarcasm. It wasn't an answer, not really, but it was all he was willing to give. Truth was, he didn't know. And he sure as hell wasn't about to tell them about the cards still floating in front of him.
"It kneeled to you," the man with the black hair and beard pressed. "It followed your command."
Kael gave a half-shrug, the corner of his mouth tugging up. "Yeah. Follows better than most people I know."
There was a pause. An awkward one.
Kael blinked, realizing too late that what he'd meant as a joke now hung in the air like an insult. He wasn't sure if they thought he meant the soldiers in the room or the kingdom as a whole but he meant about people in general.
He cleared his throat and leaned back slightly. "That was supposed to be funny."
"Forgive me, Your Highness," a man with scar on his face and eyepatch said, stiff with practiced deference, "but if you had magic like that… why wait until now to use it?"
The question came soft, but it landed hard.
Shit, Kael thought. The prince wasn't supposed to have this kind of magic. He stared at the table, trying to think of a reply that wouldn't spark more questions or panic. His mind raced, flipping through sarcasm, silence, evasion.
Then he straightened.
"I think that's enough questions for one council," he said, tone even but unmistakably firm. "We are here for other things. Aren't we?"
No one spoke.
"Good," Kael said, and leaned back like it cost him nothing at all.
The only woman in the tent spoke up next. She had sharp eyes and a voice that didn't waver. "Gwedlyn," she said, rising slightly from her seat. "Medic-in-chief."
Kael glanced at her, noting the blood-stained sleeves, the no-nonsense posture. She didn't look impressed.
She spoke calmly. "The medics' reports say you claimed memory loss, Your Highness. That the prince couldn't remember anything before the battle."
But before he could say anything, a heavy voice cut across the room. "That can wait."
Everyone turned.
A man stepped forward tall, broad-shouldered, with long gray hair and a beard that looked like it had weathered storms. His armor was scraped and dark with wear. He didn't shout, but every word carried weight.
"We have more pressing concerns. Griffyn hasn't sent a single message from the wall."
He glanced around the room. "We have to assume they were attacked. Possibly overrun. And if they were then the breach point must be near them."
Kael let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.
The man nodded once, as if that settled it. "We're sending a party. We need eyes on that wall. And we need to find the breach."
The man with the scar and eyepatch, the one who had questioned Kael earlier, spoke again, his tone grimmer now. "We must also assume that other beasts are already roaming inside the wall as we speak. I'll take my unit and scout the towns near Griffyn's outer posts."
The man with the gray hair nodded once. "Then Affkar will scout the areas near the breach itself."
He turned to a quiet man seated at the table, spectacles perched low on his nose.
"How are the mages?" the gray-haired man asked.
"They're ready," the man replied. "But we'll use horses. No sense wasting their mana teleporting us if there are still beasts lurking. We'll need their strength intact once we reach the wall."
The commander's gaze turned to Kael again, lingering this time.
He waited.
Kael could feel the expectation thickening around him like fog. He wasn't sure what they wanted—approval? Obedience? Strategy?
He cleared his throat. "Then I'll be coming as well."
Silence.
No support. No protest.
Just a few sidelong glances. Someone shifted in their chair.
"It's dangerous out there," someone muttered.
"Safer if you stayed in the camp," added another.
Kael set his jaw, leaned forward, and brought his fist down once against the table.
"I've decided."
Near the back of the tent, someone muttered under their breath, just loud enough to be caught by those closest, "He's not the same since the breach…"
It didn't reach Kael's ears. His voice didn't raise, but it left no room.
He stood, turned without asking permission, and walked out of the tent.
He didn't know if he'd made the right choice. He wasn't sure if that mattered anymore.
Outside, the sky was still gray. Kael looked up with a bitter smirk.
"Keep me alive, God," he muttered. "I haven't even seen all the cards yet."