Chapter 299 — Strength in Every Pillar
The Hollow thrummed with energy. The clatter of hammers from the forges, the call of merchants hawking their wares, and the playful laughter of children weaving through the legs of soldiers created a harmony Kael never tired of hearing. For once, there was no blood on the stones, no smoke of war choking the tunnels.
Kael spent the morning walking the streets, nodding to workers who paused to bow or wave. He stopped at the bakery, taking a roll from a wide-eyed apprentice, and even allowed a gaggle of children to pester him into hoisting them one by one onto his shoulders until they were all squealing and laughing. These little moments—this life—were why he bled and fought.
But peace was a fragile thing. Selina's words gnawed at him. Strength was needed not only in the ranks, but in the very heart of leadership.
The council chamber smelled faintly of oil lamps and old parchment. The stone table sat heavy between them, scarred by years of debate and planning. Each councilor was present: Rogan with arms crossed like a wall of muscle; Thalos seated prim and proper, quill poised in hand as though ready to take notes; Azhara pale but sharp-eyed; Varik lounging in his chair, twirling a knife idly; Lyria calm yet wary; Selina standing near the wall with her arms folded; Zerathis coiled and restless, like a predator in a cage.
Kael let the silence stretch before he spoke. "We were nearly broken in the last battle. Not for lack of courage, but for lack of preparation. That ends now. From this day forward, every member of this council will undergo mandatory training. Sword, spell, or body—no exceptions."
The reactions came at once.
Rogan grinned, slamming a fist on the table hard enough to rattle the ink pots. "Finally! I thought you'd never say it. About time these pampered folk learned what it means to sweat like soldiers."
Thalos adjusted his spectacles, frowning. "With respect, my strength lies in tactics and planning, not swinging a blade. My time is better served with ink and parchment."
Kael's gaze hardened. "Your people don't get to choose where the enemy strikes, Thalos. Neither do you."
Azhara, ever the healer, sighed, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. "If you think I will break my back learning to wield a sword, Kael, you're mistaken. My place is with the wounded."
"You will train your body and your magic," Kael countered, his voice firm but gentle. "If the healers fall, then the Hollow dies with them. I won't let you carry that burden alone again."
Her lips pressed thin, but she lowered her gaze in reluctant concession.
Varik smirked, balancing his knife on one fingertip. "Mandatory, eh? Sounds like you're afraid I'll outshine you if I get serious."
"You'll do it because I told you to," Kael said flatly. "And because your people deserve a leader who can fight beside them."
Lyria's response was measured, though her eyes lingered on him with quiet concern. "If this is your will, then I'll do it. But Kael, you can't demand this of everyone and not hold yourself to the same fire."
Kael nodded once. "I'll be the first in line."
Selina's smirk widened into a knowing smile, as though she were watching a plan unfold exactly as she envisioned. She said nothing, only raised a brow as if to say: Good. He listened.
Finally, Zerathis leaned forward, the lamplight catching on his sharp features and faintly glowing eyes. "I was bound in chains for years, Kael. Don't think to leash me with your training games. I train only to destroy."
The chamber tensed, but Kael met his glare without flinching. "Then destroy your weakness first. If you serve under me, you serve the Hollow. You'll train alongside us. Or you'll rot again in your cell."
A dangerous silence stretched before Zerathis broke into a deep, guttural laugh. "Very well, Dragon. You amuse me. I'll play along—for now."
The meeting ended with unease, but also with a spark of something new. For the first time, the councilors would sweat as their people did, sharpening themselves for the storms that would inevitably come.
That night, Kael walked the quiet streets once more, the echoes of laughter from earlier still clinging to the air. His Hollow was alive, his people strong. And if Selina was right—and he knew she was—they would need to be stronger still.