Keal let his gaze sweep over the group. There weren't many who remained – but at this moment, it wasn't the number that mattered, but the location. The narrow pass between the mountains was their only chance.
"Nerion," Keal began, "what do you think if we hold back the King's units right here? A bottleneck. Surprise. And we position our archers up on the rock face." Nerion nodded slowly. "It's our best option. In open field, we would be lost. But here – here we equalize the numerical disadvantage." Keal breathed out. "Then we'll do it."
He turned to the others. "Elandra – find a few people who can handle a bow and arrow. You entrench yourselves on the left slope. Wait for my signal." "Kiro – you take the right side. Same strategy. Full cover, high visibility."
Both immediately set off and began searching among the prisoners for volunteers who were skilled in archery.
Keal turned to Torgul and Unutay. "You two – with me at the forefront. We are the first line of defense. Together with the prisoners, we will hold them back." Then he looked at Mika. "You support us from the air. Be flexible – but cautious." "Nerion, you form the second line. Support us with magic and keep the ranged fighters in check."
Everyone nodded. Without another word, they began their preparations. Shortly thereafter, Nerion stepped to Keal's side. "We don't know how many soldiers the King is sending. And we are… not many." Keal nodded. "I know. But what's the alternative? Run away? Leave the people here behind?" Nerion was silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on the ground. "No. I couldn't do that. But we must be clear – no matter how this battle ends… there will be consequences." "I'm ready for them," Keal replied calmly.
While the group prepared their defensive lines, the first royal unit reached the fortress of Taskura. Everywhere they saw guards bound, disarmed, and beaten. The commander of the royal troops stepped forward. "What happened here?! Where are the prisoners?!" One of the guards, pale with fear, replied: "They… they were freed. By beings we have never seen before. They fled towards the pass." The commander's face twisted into a grimace. Without hesitation, he gave the order. "All units – move out. Towards the pass. No one escapes."
Keal let his gaze sweep over the hills. The lines were thin. Far too thin. Doubt gnawed at him. If the royal troops were indeed as powerful as they said – stronger than anything they had seen so far – then this would not end well.
Unutay noticed how unsettled Keal seemed, how he searched for a better solution. He stepped next to him and said calmly: "This is my first real battle. I don't know what it feels like to face something like this. This pulling in my stomach, the storm in my head. But if you have doubts, you should set them aside – at least for now. Because what I know is: In this moment, only victory counts. Afterwards, we can doubt again. But not now."
Keal looked at him, his expression relaxing slightly. "It's not just about this battle," he said. "If we lose here, we abandon the Alliance – and all the worlds that are counting on us. Even if we win, what then? The people here might live one day longer before the next army comes. What happens to them if we move on? That worries me more than the fight itself." He looked at the horizon. "No matter how this battle turns out – we lose something. Either our lives… or our conscience." Unutay was silent for a moment. Now he understood what truly preoccupied Keal.
Then a shout suddenly rang out. "Hey! There! Back there – look!" shouted Jarul, pointing at a rising dust cloud. Everyone turned around.
A small force moved along the path – fast, determined. They were the freedom fighters from the camp. They had survived the escape… and were coming back. Jarul ran towards them, visibly overwhelmed. "What are you doing here?" "We couldn't stay in camp," one shouted. "Not while others are fighting for our freedom. The prisoners we met along the way told us everything. We came to stand by your side – until death or until freedom!"
Keal stepped towards them. "Thank you… for coming." "No, we thank you," replied the leader. "You and your companions showed us that one can fight even for strangers. That one doesn't have to hide. Enough is enough. Whatever happens – this will end."
Keal looked into their faces. Determination reflected in their eyes. Jarul stepped forward and shouted loudly: "Are you ready to fight?!" "YEEESSS!" roared the army. "Are you ready to die?!" "YEEESSS!" "Then let's show the false king what we're capable of!" A thunderous roar of voices replied: "GO!!!"
Keal turned to the leaders. "Position the archers on the cliffs – left and right. Archers to Nerion – from the second line, you give us cover. Sword and spear bearers form the frontline with us!" "Yes, Sir!" echoed in unison.
Unutay stepped next to him and grinned. "Now you have an army. Not big. But loud." Keal laughed. "You take what you can get."
The men and women took up positions. Arrows were placed on bowstrings. Spears were planted in the ground. The wind howled through the pass – and everyone waited. Silently. Ready. The King's army was approaching.
High above the cliffs, Mika circled in her eagle form. Her sharp eyes scanned far over the valley – until she saw them: A huge army, marching, disciplined, heavily armored. The King's banner fluttered in the wind. She turned gracefully and rushed like an arrow back towards the pass. A few moments later, she landed next to Keal. "They're coming," she said curtly.
Keal nodded and stepped forward. "Everyone to position! The enemy is almost here!" Behind him, the improvised army of freedom fighters, prisoners, and warriors tensed. Elandra and Kiro lay hidden with their archer groups on the opposite slopes. Torgul, Unutay, and Nerion stood ready to hold the front. But no one moved. Only Keal stepped alone into the pass – the others remained hidden.
Then the King's army reached the entrance to the gorge. More than a thousand men. Disciplined. Armored. Threatening. Keal stood alone facing them.
The commander of the royal troops rode forward, a dashing man in dark armor. His gaze was sharp, his instinct watchful. He immediately sensed that Keal was not alone. "Who are you?" he called across the pass.
Keal took a step forward, his gaze calm but firm. "Go back to your King. Tell him his dominion ends here. And if he wants to live, he should never set foot in this place again." The commander laughed mockingly. "And who are you, to speak such words? A nobody. A mere wretch. Just because you freed a few pathetic prisoners, you think you can stop us? Show your people so I can strike them all down! My time is too valuable for such ridiculous figures."
Keal remained unfazed. "This is your last warning. Turn back – or you will die here." The commander's eyes narrowed. Rage flared within him. "How dare you…!" He raised his hand in the air. "Bring me his head!"
The first wave of soldiers began to move – swords raised, shields at the ready. Keal calmly drew his sword and raised it. The soldiers charged towards him. Then – a single, precise downward sword swing. At the same moment, a deadly hail of arrows poured down from both sides of the rocks onto the advancing troops. Dozens fell immediately. Others raised their shields, threw themselves to the ground. Chaos.
The commander cursed and ordered a counter-attack – his archers fired back at the cliffs. "Change target! Fire at the lone one!" he suddenly shouted – and a second hail of arrows sped directly towards Keal. But Nerion leaped from the second row, his hands lit up, and with a mighty pressure wave, he hurled the arrows back in all directions. "Too late," Nerion murmured.
The commander gritted his teeth. "Change formation! Shields out! Swords in! Advance!" Row by row, the King's troops pushed into the narrow pass. The walls were too close for their mass – a tactical disadvantage that Keal's group knew how to exploit. Now Torgul, Unutay, Jarul, Sador, and Mika in her human form also advanced to the frontline. The impact was fierce.
Torgul swung his axe like a berserker, smashing shields and bones in one go. His presence was like a rock in the surf. Keal moved fluidly between opponents, his sword a silver swath through the ranks. Every strike was a statement. He wasn't here to hold them back – but to win. Unutay, on the other hand, was like the wind. He glided through the enemy lines, dodging, countering, striking precisely. Every one of his movements was like a dance figure – and yet deadly. Jarul fought shoulder to shoulder with Sador. Old wounds, new strength – their will was unbroken. The fighters from the camp had not forgotten what had been taken from them – and today they would reclaim it.