I. The First Wave and The Divine Chat
Vael wore his "Confident Idiot" mask as he stood with the 300 soldiers. The first enemy wave of 200 shock troops charged toward them.
Vael's mind was instantly transported to the God Aethel mental chatroom, pleading with his creator.
Vael: "God, please! Give me the power to kill 100 people! Or charm 100 soldiers! I'm about to be murdered by a budget I increased!"
God Aethel:"Oh, little one! You were sent to spread 'poetry and love,' not 'violence.' Besides, I only offer skills relevant to your Core Identity. Do you want a power to write a better grocery list? I can do that!"
Vael: "I need to survive! I need a sword skill, not a shopping skill! This is my final prayer!"
God Aethel:"You know what your problem is? You keep reciting poetry to girls you shouldn't! And honestly, the best solution here is to let you die gracefully. It would make for an excellent final chapter."
Vael: "No! I don't want a final chapter! I want a long, boring epilogue with one wife and a comfortable chair!"
God Aethel:"Too late! Live your destiny!"
God Aethel slammed the door on Vael's mental chat. Vael's face, now back in reality, was pale with the knowledge that even the divine was actively rooting for his failure.
II. The Wives' Devastation and General Vorlag's Miscalculation
Vael squeezed his eyes shut as the 200 shock troops arrived. He felt a furious hurricane erupt right behind him—the sound of his six wives turning two hundred men into tactical compost.
Vael opened his eyes and saw Astra wiping enemy blood off her cheek. I just survived a massacre because I married six psychopaths, Vael thought with hollow gratitude.
[Enemy Observation Post: General Vorlag and Advisor Krell]
General Vorlag watched the complete destruction of his elite 200 troops.
Vorlag: "This is a farce! That frail little man didn't move! Is he truly a weak fool whom my army underestimated?"
Advisor Krell quickly intervened, his voice urgent. "No, General! Do not underestimate him! Our intelligence reports this man is the Divine Consort to King Aerion's daughter, and the King worships him! Rumors state he has defeated the King's strongest warriors without lifting a sword! It's also whispered that he turns his enemies into devoted disciples using his dark, magical words! He may look weak, General, but he is a dangerous sorcerer!"
Vorlag's doubt turned to dread. "Very well. If he is truly that powerful, we will not risk any more small units."
Vorlag immediately ordered his remaining 800 soldiers to charge the entire position.
III. The Steed of Doom and The Rushed Rhyme
When the full 800-strong enemy army advanced, Vael experienced a moment of total existential collapse.
Vael yanked the reins: "Retreat! This is not tactical! I am officially reversing the order! I command you to take me away from this!"
But the horse, now in a manic frenzy and ignoring Vael's pathetic plea, broke into a full sprint.
Vael screamed, hanging on for dear life. "Stop, you monstrous equestrian beast! I command you! I am the one who pays for your oats!"
An arrow whizzed past Vael's ear. With death seconds away, Vael made a desperate, high-risk decision. He started reciting the worst, most panicked poetry imaginable, hoping the Divine Charm would trigger and save him.
"Oh, the field is green, the sky is blue,
I like my horse, and I like you!
Don't stab me, please, I have much to say,
Just stop the war and go away!"
He continued his pathetic, nonsense rhyme as his horse plunged into the enemy formation. The terrible poetry failed to charm the men, but succeeded in utterly baffling them.
Astra (shouting, thrilled): "Look at him! He goes straight for the General! A solo charge! What spirit!"
Lyra (adjusting her glasses): "Statistically, running directly into 800 men is the least viable option. He must be attempting a Psychological Shock Manoeuvre!"
The horse, unstoppable, carried Vael straight through the entire enemy line, completely scattering their formation, and into the thick jungle that bordered the city. General Vorlag, convinced Vael was aiming for their supply lines, ordered half his remaining army (400 men) to pursue Vael into the woods.
IV. The New Commander and The Jungle Trap
The horse finally halted in a dense thicket deep within the jungle. Vael tumbled off, kissing the dirt. Freedom! Sweet, dirty freedom!
He heard the crashing of 400 enemy soldiers entering the jungle behind him. Right. Not freedom. A slightly more scenic execution.
Then, from the other direction, he heard the frantic voices of his six wives, calling his name and closing in on his position.
Vael threw his hands up in despair. He was trapped between an army and his Harem.
"Vael, the Poet-Commander, had finally escaped the battlefield, only to realize he hadn't escaped death. He had merely designed a highly efficient, single-location execution chamber. At least I'll die knowing my wives will avenge my killer by marrying him too."