Commander Teriya paced across the balcony before dawn. The stars shimmered over Palledania, but her thoughts were heavy.
She had spent years serving this kingdom—years thinking Prince Veyron was just an arrogant boy, too wild for war and too prideful for leadership. But yesterday, something changed. The speech he gave. The orders he gave. He was no longer the same boy.
"Where did this sudden strategy come from?" she whispered to herself. "That wasn't a fool talking. That was a leader."
Was it a spark? Or the start of something far greater?
—
Prince Veyron stood by the tall window of his chamber, gazing out over the mist-covered city. His garden below was silent. The mountain ridges beyond Palledania looked like frozen waves.
But inside his mind, the storm raged.
"I need an assassin… but I have none. I can only afford one, and even then, the quality would be average at best."
He tapped the wooden frame of the window.
"Poison their water? No. That'll come back to haunt us."
"Destroy their gunpowder? Possible. Or sabotage their cannons—shove something inside the barrel. But what material would work? Something slow to dissolve, invisible…"
"Resin. A resin mixture could do it. But where would I even find it? Ugh. That's a problem for later."
His eyes narrowed.
"They're getting cannons from somewhere. Truhflan isn't clever enough to mass-produce. Their king's dumber than I was before I merged…"
He paused. That word again—merged.
"No. I won't refer to myself as 'I' anymore. Not until I earn something worthy."
A deep sigh.
"Agh. Again, distracted. I need sleep."
He blinked once, just to rest his eyes.
WISH GRANTED.
A familiar voice echoed in his head. Deep, strange, powerful.
"So you've chosen to duel with trillions. But time is still yours."
The silhouette of an emperor appeared—calm, almost cruel.
"You remember me. Erase me from memory."
Veyron jolted awake, heart pounding. His forehead was damp with sweat.
"What… is this fear? I haven't felt this in years. Not even when I was falling from the wall…"
Then his eyes widened.
"We don't have a scout. Damn it—they tricked me. I'll send everyone to their deaths."
He rang the bell.
"Maid! Bring me the record of every soldier we have. I want names, ranks, skills. Everything."
Two hours passed.
Veyron sat at his desk, surrounded by scrolls. He flipped through each one with growing frustration.
"No one fits. No stealth, no speed. No one is right."
He leaned back.
"Wait… that dream… I said something about cloning a fly."
And then—he heard it.
A soft buzzing.
A tiny fly hovered by the window.
> "Fly Clone 1," he whispered.
The fly stopped midair.
A voice filled his mind. Calm. Familiar.
> "I see what you see. I cannot speak aloud, but I am you. Mind-linked. I know your goals. I will never betray you. I exist to scout."
Veyron's eyes sharpened.
> "You… can see enemy territory?"
> "Already in motion. You can close your eyes to view through mine."
Veyron smiled.
> "Maid—summon the commanders."
—
Eleven commanders gathered in the war room. Tension thickened the air.
One of them stepped forward.
> "Your Highness… a scout is returning. He will give a full report within an hour. Should we prepare an assassin?"
Another added, hesitantly,
> "We… haven't found a good one yet."
Veyron didn't react. He could hear their doubts. They still saw him as the foolish prince who once abused his own power.
> "Present your ideas first. Then Commander Teriya. Then I'll speak."
Each officer gave a plan. Some were clever, most were safe. Teriya waited until the end.
She stood by the map, pointing at Palledania's strongest wall.
> "We pretend this section is weak. We use only slingshots for ten minutes. I'll pull back 200 troops and let one of their scouts 'capture' false plans."
> "These fake plans will say our wall needs just one more cannon blast to fall."
Murmurs of surprise.
> "They'll believe it. Focus all their fire here. But they don't know we rebuilt it with Gfile's formula. It's stronger than steel."
Veyron stayed quiet.
> "This," he thought, "is why we're still alive."
—
Fly Clone 1 returned by nightfall.
> "I've seen their gunpowder stockpiles. Their command center is weak on the western edge."
Veyron absorbed the information. He walked to the Mercenary Guild alone.
He tried to clone a human mercenary.
Nothing.
It failed. Human minds were too complex. The fly worked because it was simple—obedient. Predictable.
The war drums began again.
> "Too late."
He threw a pouch of gold onto the guild table.
> "I want twelve mercenaries. You're all hired. Obey, and you'll live."
They bowed without a word.
He gave them assignments and sent them toward Truhflan's lines.
—
Back at the wall, Teriya met him with a sharp glare.
> "Truhflan sent 1,250 soldiers. But they have more than 1,400. Where are the rest?"
Veyron scanned the horizon.
The wind shifted.
> "They're hiding something."
And just like that… the second phase of war began.
To be continued…