The Obsidian Spire trembled with distant echoes of defeat. Pyronis's armies, once confident and unstoppable, dragged themselves back across the scorched plains—broken lines, shattered formations, and whispers of a Sun King whose power had eclipsed every projection.
Inside the council chamber, the air burned hotter than usual, thick with humiliation and anger.
High Flame-Lord Kharzek Brimwrought stood rigid before the central dais, his jaw clenched so tightly the muscles trembled. "Our vanguard routed. Our siege lines shattered. Our reserves forced into retreat." His voice was low, dangerous. "Firelonia did not merely defend. They dominated."
General Rythis Emberborn dropped to one knee, helmet tucked under his arm. "Their coordination… it was unlike any engagement we've faced. Every move we made was anticipated." His gaze hardened. "Their king's power is not rumor. It is absolute."
Lyssa Vorn slammed a hand against the obsidian table, flames flaring from her fingers. "A single man does not win a war! Their armies—how did they respond so quickly? So precisely? It was as if the entire battlefield moved with one mind."
Forge-Master Halvek growled. "One mind… or one signal. That light of his—the pulses—our front lines saw it. Every time he unleashed one, Firelonia struck in multiple places at once."
Lornak, the ancient Fifth Flame, slowly opened his eyes. "Then we do not face a king. We face a conductor. A strategist wielding both power and unity."
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Kharzek turned away from the others, staring out toward the volcanic horizon. "If we wait, Firelonia grows stronger. The boy king gains mastery. Their generals sharpen. Their forces unite even tighter." He looked back, eyes burning. "We must change our approach."
Rythis straightened. "You want a second assault."
"No," Kharzek said. "I want a deathblow."
The room stirred.
Lyssa smirked. "At last. Speak."
"We do not crush Firelonia by force alone. We fracture them. Break their unity. Sever their command." His voice dropped lower. "We target their generals. Their lines of communication. Their trust. Without their synchronized movements, their armies will fall into chaos."
Halvek nodded slowly. "Assassination. Sabotage. Intercepted messages. Strategic confusion—"
"And more," Kharzek cut in. "Lornak, you spoke of the Conclave."
The elder's expression tightened. "They want instability, not victory."
"Then let their desire serve ours," Kharzek said. "We lure the Conclave into striking Firelonia again. A strike precise enough to make their council panic. To splinter their unity. To divide their forces just long enough for us to move."
Lyssa leaned forward, eyes glittering. "We manipulate the shadows… and attack with fire."
Rythis stepped closer to the table. "And when their lines crumble?"
Kharzek's voice sharpened. "Then we unleash everything. Our full armies. Our siege legions. Our Flamecasters." He inhaled. "We do not retreat again. We burn Firelonia's heart."
Lornak's gaze remained steady. "And if they stand united still? If the Sun King rises again?"
Kharzek's flames flared high behind him.
"Then we kill him. No kingdom survives the fall of its sun."
---