Subtitle: Laying the Groundwork – Tactics in Motion
A days before
Ray teleported into the grand palace library. Towering shelves lined with ancient tomes and glimmering scrolls stretched into the shadows above, but today, none of it stirred his usual wonder. His mind wasn't here—it was caught in the gears of a plan already in motion. He spared only a fleeting glance at the shelves before reminding himself: he would return after handing over the storage ring to his father.
Just then, his communication wristwatch buzzed faintly. His father was already at the king's palace.
Sighing, Ray stepped away from the polished marble floor, the echo of his footsteps soft but distinct. As he exited, he nodded politely to the library caretaker—a tall, unreadable figure cloaked in blue-gray robes. Ray offered a brief "hello" and "farewell," but something tugged at him. The caretaker, mysterious as he was, deserved more than just a nameless title in Ray's thoughts. Next time, Ray resolved. I'll ask for his name. It's rude to keep calling him 'caretaker' in my mind.
Ray made his way across the corridor's arched ceiling and lantern-lit halls to another chamber—the war hall. Guards flanking the grand wooden doors stood upright, spears at their sides, but when Ray introduced himself as Robert's son, they simply nodded and stepped aside.
The door creaked open with solemn weight.
Inside, a massive round table gleamed under the warm glow of hanging crystals. Ten seats formed a circle. In the grand seat sat King Daymond, poised yet focused. Seven elegantly dressed women—his wives—sat to his left and right, their expressions ranging from serene to shrewd. On the ninth seat sat Robert, Ray's father, his gaze unwavering. One seat remained unoccupied.
Ray walked in with practiced grace and offered a formal salute—first to the king, then to the queens. Their nods acknowledged his presence. He then approached Robert and wordlessly handed over the storage ring, heavy with preparations.
Just as Ray opened his mouth to request permission to leave, a soft, commanding voice interrupted.
"Ray," Alicia, the king's third concubine, said with a warm smile, patting the seat beside her. "Come sit with us."
Ray hesitated. So that was the empty seat… right between Alicia and his father. He exhaled quietly and nodded, then took his place.
Robert resumed his briefing. "As I was saying, I've already arranged all the necessary equipment. Everything is ready. If Your Majesty wishes, we can begin the assault immediately. With the hot air balloons Ray provided, we can take the neighboring kingdom in one swift strike. If not, we shift our attention to Daniel. Thereafter, the enemy will forever expect surprise aerial attacks."
The king leaned forward, fingers steepled. "And why are the dukes, earls, and others not present in this meeting?"
Robert's jaw tightened. "Because such meetings have been compromised before. The enemy has embedded spies throughout our lands. After what happened with Jack, we no longer know who is friend or foe. Once a decision is made, we'll inform the nobility. But for now, secrecy is our weapon."
King Daymond's eyes shifted to Ray. "What's your opinion, little Ray?"
Only the king knew of Ray's reincarnated soul—and perhaps that's why the question carried more weight than formality.
Ray paused, gathering his thoughts. The room felt still, heavy with anticipation. Then he spoke clearly:
"Our every move is being watched. Father's preparations have already stirred suspicion. The enemy will expect something. Inviting the dukes will only confirm it's a full-scale war."
He continued, his voice low but certain. "If we move, we must shut everything down—land, air, and even underground. Otherwise, messages will leak. Spies will send birds. Runners will escape. The scale doesn't change my objective. I'm after Daniel and his backers. So whatever you decide, Your Majesty, we will proceed. We are simply informing you out of courtesy."
The king listened, nodding slowly. "Very well. Robert, step outside with Ray. We have matters to discuss."
Ray followed Robert into the outer chamber, the heavy door closing behind them. The corridor was cooler here, quieter—yet tension hummed in the air.
"What do you think?" Robert asked.
Ray leaned against a pillar, arms crossed. "If they don't go for it, they're either cowards or they've lost all ambition. Or…" He paused. "There could be a traitor among the king's wives. We wait and see."
Robert nodded, eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Good reasoning."
Some time passed before they were summoned back.
When they returned, the room seemed lighter somehow—resolved. The eight seated figures turned to face them, and King Daymond stood.
"We've decided. We go to war."
He turned to Robert. "You will lead the army. Summon all dukes and their golden and silver stage subordinates. I will personally send four of my concubines, each with their most trusted warriors, to guard our borders. No one leaves. No messages go out. We'll activate a formation for two days—nothing and no one will fly out."
He looked at Alicia. "And Alicia will accompany you. She will be of great use."
Robert saluted deeply. "I will not fail you, Your Majesty."
Then he added, "I have a request."
"Speak."
"I want to take little Ray to the battlefield. He needs to see what war truly is."
Ray's eyes widened. What?!
The king glanced at Ray and—almost amused—replied with a single word, "You may."
Robert didn't wait for Ray's objections. Grinning, he grabbed Ray's wrist and whisked him away like a man with no time to waste.
Only Alicia caught the stunned expression on Ray's face and couldn't help but chuckle. She had spent time with Ray before, and knowing what little she did about him, this was all too amusing. When the king asked for the reason behind her laughter, she whispered it. The king chuckled too, and soon, laughter passed among the queens like a ripple. They stood, their silken gowns whispering against the polished floor, and began preparing for the war to come.
Present
The night sky hung heavy with stars, scattered like distant sentinels watching from above. The air was still, unnaturally so—as if the heavens themselves were holding their breath.
Above the darkened kingdom, dozens of hot air balloons floated silently, their massive forms like ancient beasts drifting through the clouds. Shadows moved within them—soldiers, mages, and archers—all waiting for the signal.
But if one looked closely, among the uniform vessels, there was a single balloon that defied the rest. Sleek, nimble, and unnaturally fast, it sliced through the sky with precision and grace. It didn't drift—it soared.
This was the prototype balloon Ray had acquired from the old man, Rick.
Inside, lit by faint magical glow stones, sat Robert, his four wives, Alicia—the king's third concubine—and Ray, who looked entirely out of place. Arms crossed, eyes narrowed, Ray sat in frustrated silence. He hadn't wanted to come. But here he was, trapped among seasoned warriors, hovering above the edge of war.
Below, the sleeping world waited—unaware of the storm ready to descend.
And in the heart of it all, destiny stirred.