Inside the command tent, the air was thick with tension. Lyeona, a lioness in golden armor, paced back and forth on the campaign rugs, her boots scuffing the worn fabric with each agitated turn. As Aexl calmly recounted the ambush, the desperate last stand, and the final, brutal slaughter of the orc war party, her gratitude was a palpable wave. But beneath it, a storm was brewing.
"…and that's when we finished the last of them," Aexl concluded, his voice a low, steady baritone.
BLAARGG!
Lyeona's gauntleted fist slammed down on the heavy oak map table, the sound like a crack of thunder. The wooden figurines representing her units rattled and jumped. "Those FILTH!" she roared, her voice raw with a fury that made the tent guards outside flinch. "We've been hunting them for a month! A whole month, combing these woods, and they just… appear on my sister's doorstep?" She leaned over the map, her knuckles white, her eyes scanning the familiar topography with a desperate, frustrated glare. "Five hundred of them should have been an easy kill, but we couldn't find a single track. How did they slip past us?"
Aexl remained silent for a moment, letting her rage burn itself out. Then, he stood. He picked up a crudely carved orc figurine from the map's edge—damn, this thing is ugly, he thought—and walked to the edge of the table. With the precision of a surgeon, he placed the figurine on the high ridge overlooking the valley, the same one his tactical GPS had guided him to.
"Here," he said, his voice cutting through the heavy silence. The tactician had taken over. "Before I found you, I found this ridge. There's a slope leading down from it. A challenging descent because of the steepness, but climbing up it? For a lightly-equipped scout party, it's entirely possible. My guess? They didn't slip past your patrols. They went over them. They used this path, climbed it without their heavy gear, then hauled their armor up after them. They would have camped around here…"
Lyeona's brow furrowed, a new wrinkle of disbelief on her face. "Wait, you said there were worgs, didn't you? How in the world could they get those beasts up a sheer cliff?"
"Yes, seven of them," Aexl confirmed without missing a beat, his tone flat and certain. "It's the same principle as their armor. With enough orcs and enough rope, you can move anything. It would have been slow, brutal work, hauling them up one by one, but it's not impossible for a determined force."
Lyeona's head snapped up, the tactical implications finally hitting her. "But did you see a camp? Any remnants?"
"I saw disturbed ground," Aexl replied, his gaze distant as he recalled the scene. "Heavy tracks. At the time, I was more focused on the fortress below. But looking at this map, knowing what I know now… it's the only route that makes tactical sense."
Lyeona straightened up, the fire in her eyes banking into a slow-burning ember of respect. She crossed her arms over her golden breastplate, her gaze fixed on Aexl, truly seeing the General before her. The frustration and rage melted away, replaced by a profound, overwhelming gratitude.
"There's no point in sulking over what's done," she said, her voice steady once more. She looked directly at Aexl, her expression stripped of all pretense. "Thank you, General. For saving my village. For saving my sister." She took a deep breath. "Ask for anything. Anything at all as your reward. Whatever it may be, I swear on my honor, it is yours."
The gratitude radiating from Lyeona was so potent it was almost a physical force. It wasn't just in her words; it was in the way the rigid lines of her commander's posture softened, the way her fierce, golden eyes held his with an unshielded sincerity. She valued her sister above all else, and he had saved her.
But it was her final words that short-circuited the tactician in his brain.
"Ask for anything… Whatever it may be, I swear on my honor, it is yours."
Anything.
The single word echoed in the sudden, charged silence of the tent. Aexl's eyebrows shot up. The gears in his mind, moments ago grinding through troop movements and strategic weaknesses, slammed to a halt and began turning in a completely different, far more carnal direction.
His gaze, no longer that of a general, slid over her form. He wasn't seeing a fellow commander anymore. He was seeing a stunning, powerful woman encased in plates of gleaming gold. His mind, a traitorous beast, began a new kind of reconnaissance, wondering about the landscape hidden beneath that gilded armor. The curves it hinted at, the strength it concealed…
A sudden, insistent stirring in his loins made him jolt. The soldier below his belt was snapping to a very salute.
Ah, hell.
In one swift, almost convulsive movement, Aexl sat down on a nearby crate and crossed his legs tightly, hoping the maneuver looked more casual than desperate.
The sudden action startled Lyeona from her reverie. "What's wrong?" she asked, her head tilted in genuine confusion.
"Nothing," Aexl grunted, his voice a little tight. He stared intently at a loose thread on the rug, focusing on anything but the golden warrior in front of him. Internally, his mind was racing. What unit could I possibly summon that would be a fitting conquest for this woman?
Just then, a low, electronic BZZZT vibrated from his pocket.
And there it is, Aexl thought, a wave of cynical resignation washing over him. Right on cue, Horny Dominion.
While Lyeona resumed her pacing, her mind clearly still wrestling with the orcs' phantom raid, Aexl discreetly pulled out his Ephone.
A new notification was pulsing on the screen.
[ A Trigger Condition Has Been Detected ]
"Huh…? What else would you expect from this damn app…" Aexl blinked, a slow, predatory smile spreading across his face.
He tapped the notification.
The screen shifted, displaying the familiar, cryptic interface.
[ H-Lords Evaluation ]
???
???
???
Current Evaluation Progress: 20%
Condition to Unlock:
Make Lyeona scream your name for more, and you shall have my sword.
Price: 1200 Command Coins
Aexl's smile widened into a grin of pure, disbelieving avarice. The last evaluation was a vague test of his character. This time… the system had a very, very specific objective in mind. And it had put a name to it.
Then suddenly Lyeona cut the moment as her head snapped towards the light, her commander's instincts on high alert. "What was that?"
Aexl glanced down at the screen, a wry smile touching his lips. He quickly showed the device. "Just my wand" he said, aiming for casual and avoiding to explain something detailed like this is a "Horny Dominion" or whatever this interface is. As he continues "a wand to communicate with my units and summon them."
The explanation did little to ease her suspicion. "Units?" Lyeona's eyes narrowed. "That's right, you're a General. Where are they? This unit of yours."
"Back at the village," Aexl said, deciding the truth was the easiest path. "To be honest, I should be getting back to them." He stood, the movement a clear signal of his intent to leave.
"Wait!" Lyeona's voice was sharp, and her eyes suddenly dropped, widening in alarm at the prominent bulge in his trousers. "And what is that? Between your legs! Is that a weapon? I ordered the guards to disarm you!" She took a breath, her hand flying to her mouth as if to shout for her soldiers.
In a flash, Aexl closed the distance between them, his hand gently but firmly covering hers over her mouth. "No, no," he whispered, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through her. The scent of jasmine and clean soap filled his senses, a detail his mind, now hyper-attuned by the damn app, latched onto with ferocious intensity. "It's… part of the summoning wand."
Lyeona's eyes, wide and inches from his, blinked in confusion. "Ummmph mmmph mmmph…"
Aexl quickly removed his hand. "Sorry," he said, though he wasn't entirely. "Please, I need to get back."
"No," Lyeona snapped, her composure returning with a vengeance, though a faint blush now colored her cheeks. She took a step back, re-establishing her authority. "You said you needed to check the gate, correct? I've already sent a party to the village to confirm your story and inform them you're with me."
Aexl paused. She was thorough. "Right. The gate. What's your intel?"
Lyeona's demeanor shifted, the commander fully back in control. She glanced at the map and beckoned him closer. As Aexl leaned over the table, he was once again enveloped in her scent, a fragrant cloud that made the app's "condition" pulse in the back of his mind.
"We are currently stationed here," she began, her finger tracing a defensive perimeter around the gate. "A trap. We laid it for the orcs, just in case they proceeded to attack the village after their initial raid. My force is one thousand strong—a mix of seasoned warriors and militia." She paused, her fist clenching on the tabletop, the sound of leather creaking under the strain. "But as of our last encounter a month ago… things have been quiet." Her voice turned to gravel, her knuckles white as she was reminded of the humiliating truth on how five hundred of those bastards slipped right through our entrapment without a trace.
Aexl cut through her simmering rage with the clean precision of a surgeon's scalpel. "So the gate is a problem. Can you take it?"
The question snapped Lyeona back to the present. "No," she said, the word clipped and final. She strode out of the tent, and Aexl followed. Two guards at the entrance snapped to a salute. Outside, Lady Shingen sat calmly beside her sabertooth, a portrait of unconcerned power.
Before them, the full majesty of the gate was revealed. It wasn't just a tower, but a three-tiered fortress of grey stone, seamlessly integrated into the natural ridges that flanked it like colossal stone arms. At its base, a massive gate, large enough to admit an army, pulsed with a faint, otherworldly light. It didn't look like an entrance to a fortress, but a gateway to the other side.
Lyeona's voice was filled with a bitter pride. "That gate was once our shield and a place of commerce. The Wardens on the other side, the Marked Ones… they were our closest friends. Our neighbors." Her gaze grew distant, lost in memory. "We thought we had found a haven after so many years of running. But five years ago, everything changed. One night… the matriarchal order of the Marked Ones collapsed. It turned patriarchal, and those hulking green orcs began to appear. The Tainted Ones."
Aexl's hand slipped into his pocket. With a swipe of his thumb, he brought up an image on the Ephone. "You mean these?"
He held the glowing screen out. The picture was brutally clear: the tanned, horned, feminine figures, chained and bleeding under the lash of their brutish green-skinned cousins.
Lyeona recoiled as if struck. "What is that… that wand of yours? What sort of magic is this?" Her eyes were fixed on the image, a mixture of horror and disbelief on her face as she saw her people's former protectors in such a state.
"That doesn't matter," Aexl said, his voice flat. "Are these the Marked Ones?"
"Yes," Lyeona breathed, her voice trembling with a rage that eclipsed her earlier frustration. "The proud protectors of Eldenthyr… reduced to slaves."
"Then why not save them?" Aexl asked the question a simple, logical conclusion.
Lyeona's laugh was a harsh, broken sound, like stone grinding against bone. "You make it sound so easy, General." Her gaze grew distant, seeing battles long since lost. "By the time we even knew of the coup, those filthy bastards had already taken the gate. Our gate. The heart of our commerce, the symbol of our alliance… they turned it into their fortress overnight."
She turned back to him, her golden eyes blazing with the memory of slaughter. "Do you think we just stood by? Five times we have thrown our strength against that stone. Five times I have watched our best warriors get shredded by their magic and butchered at the walls." Her voice cracked, not with weakness, but with the sheer weight of her rage. "That gate is no longer a path to our friends. It acted more like a prison. In order to protect what little we have we are here to risk it all."
Aexl put his phone away, his expression unreadable. "So the gate is held by the Tainted Ones." It wasn't a question, but a statement of fact.
"Yes, General," Lyeona confirmed, her voice hardening, pulling her back into the role of commander. "So. Do you have a plan?"
"Plans require intel," Aexl countered, his eyes fixed on the distant fortress. "How many are inside?"
"Our scouts estimate two to three thousand. All armed. And they have their sorcerers."
The word hung in the air, a foreign concept on a familiar battlefield. "Sorcerers?" Aexl asked, a flicker of professional interest in his eyes.
"Yes," Lyeona said, her expression grim, the memory of what they could do playing across her face. "They conjure fire from their hands. Devastating magic that can inflame an entire phalanx in seconds."
Of course, they have magic, Aexl thought, the tactician in him coolly processing the new variable. Artillery that doesn't need a supply line. What would you expect in a fantasy world? Aloud, he asked, "And you? What's your counter? Do you have sorcerers of your own?"
Lyeona shook her head, and a deep, ancestral sadness seemed to settle over her. "No. Our power… is different. We don't wield it. We grant it." she said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. She saw the tactical confusion on his face and continued, a faint, dangerous smile touching her lips. "We amplify the innate abilities of others. Our blood is a key, And the lock it opens... requires a connection."
Connection?