Chapter 103 – The Coming Storm
The air in the council chamber was thick with smoke from the torches lining the walls. Every face around the great table was drawn tight with exhaustion, worry, and unspoken fear.
Kael sat at the head, silent for a long time as the strike team gave their report. Fenrik spoke of the chaos they caused in the human camp, Thalos described the supplies burned, Lyria relayed the rough numbers of troops, and Varik—cold and sharp as ever—laid out the most damning truth.
"They're too close," Varik said, his voice carrying in the dim hall. "Two days' march. Perhaps three if they slow their pace to reorganize after our strike. Either way… they'll be at our gates before the week's end."
A heavy silence followed. Kael could hear the faint drip of melting wax from the council's candles.
"Two days?" Thalos rumbled, tusks gleaming in the firelight. "That is all the time left?"
"Yes," Varik replied, folding his arms. "We bought them confusion, but not hesitation. They are coming."
The words settled like ash on the table.
Fenrik scowled. "Then we must ready our defenses. We've walls, towers, steel, and fire. Let them break themselves against it."
Another councilor shook their head. "The walls are strong, but not against an army of this size. Not for long."
Voices rose—arguments, strategies, half-baked ideas. Talk of fleeing to the mountains, of abandoning the Hollow entirely, of digging in until every last fighter fell.
Kael's hands tightened on the table, his knuckles white. The words stung, not because they were cowardly, but because he understood the fear beneath them. This was no bandit raid. This was no wandering beast. This was a kingdom's army, marching to erase them.
At last, Kael stood. His chair scraped against the stone floor, silencing the chamber.
"Listen to me."
The voices died. Dozens of eyes turned his way, wide with expectation, dread, or both.
"They will come to our gates," Kael said evenly. "That much we know. And when they arrive, they will expect to find us huddled in fear behind our walls."
He looked around the room, his gaze sharp, burning. "So let's give them exactly that. Or rather—the illusion of it."
Confusion flickered across a few faces. Others leaned forward, listening.
"My plan is simple. When they arrive, there will be no civilians in the Hollow. Only those who fight. Everyone else—families, children, the elderly—they will be hidden and protected along the escape routes we prepare tonight. The Hollow will look full, fortified, and alive… but its heart will already be safe."
He stepped around the table, his hand brushing the carved surface. "When the army approaches, they'll meet our walls, our towers, our arrows. They'll see us dug in. And their eyes will turn to me."
Kael paused at the center of the chamber, his shadow stretching long against the firelit walls. "I will be their focus. I will make myself their target."
The chamber erupted instantly.
"You'll get yourself killed!"
"You cannot risk it, Kael!"
"You're the king—your life cannot be gambled so cheaply!"
Kael raised a hand, silencing them once again. His expression was hard, unyielding.
"They already fear me," he said. "Their commanders spoke of me as if I were a demon. Let them see that demon with their own eyes. Let their fear blind them, distract them, pull them into mistakes. That is how we win—not with numbers, but with strategy. With shadows and fire. With everything they do not understand."
The council buzzed, torn between anger, fear, and reluctant admiration.
"And if the Hollow burns?" one voice asked from the far end of the table. "If their siege engines tear down our homes, our granaries, our hall?"
Kael's jaw tightened. He let the silence stretch until it became nearly unbearable. Then he spoke, his voice low but sharp enough to cut through the air.
"Buildings can be rebuilt. Stone can be reset. Wood can be hewn again. But our people? Our families? Our way of life?"
He slammed his fist down on the table, making the torches shudder.
"That cannot be rebuilt. That is what matters most. Not these walls, not the palace, not even me. Them. The people. Protecting them is our highest duty—and I will see it done."
Silence fell once more, but this time it was different. Not fear. Not hesitation. Something heavier. Something solid.
Fenrik bowed his head first. "Then we prepare the escape routes."
Thalos rumbled a deep agreement. "And we strengthen the towers."
One by one, the council nodded. Grudgingly at first, then with more resolve. The plan was risky, reckless, but it was also the only one that carried hope.
Kael returned to his seat, though his heart was already burning with anticipation. He knew what was coming.
The storm would break upon them soon.
But when it did, the Hollow would not cower.
It would fight.