The Archduke's Songbird-Chapter 291: Home of the Scorpions

Days drifted by peacefully, without much to note—until that fateful morning when a royal decree arrived.

A messenger, clad in the king’s colors, handed the sealed parchment to Jerrick with a grave expression. As Jerrick read the decree, the tension in the air became palpable.

It was a summons to war.

The Altanians, long-time rivals of Ayberia, had reignited an old conflict. They had resumed construction on a dam in the valley of Rudley, blocking the river that provided water to Ayberia. This had been a flashpoint for years, a problem first quelled a decade ago when Jerrick led Ayberia’s forces to victory and halted the dam’s construction. But now, the enemy was back, bolder and more determined, and the kingdom needed its legendary warrior once again.

Whispers of war spread like wildfire across the land. Panic settled in among the noble houses, as old wounds from the previous war, fought only a decade ago, still festered in memory. Letters flooded in, addressed to Jessamyn, from concerned friends and acquaintances—mothers, wives, and sisters seeking news of their loved ones.

The possibility of another war brought with it the dark specter of loss and despair, rekindling fears of the devastation that once nearly shattered the kingdom.

Jessamyn’s heart grew heavier with each passing day as she watched Jerrick make preparations to leave. His once steady, confident demeanor was laced with an unspoken dread. Despite his strength and skill, that would grant him vicory, she knew Jerrick was worried more about her. He didn’t want to leave her alone now.

But as a warrior bound by duty, Jerrick could not defy the king’s command, especially when the Crown Prince himself attested to the King’s order.

Perhaps sensing her growing anxiety, Jerrick took her hand one morning and said, "Let me take you somewhere." He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

Jessamyn followed, her heart heavy yet curious about where he was taking her. They journeyed to a place she had never seen before—the training ground of the Scorpions, Jerrick’s elite unit of soldiers, hidden deep within the Iron Mountain.

The path was a winding, secret tunnel, leading deeper into the heart of the mountain. After what felt like an eternity navigating through cold, stony corridors, they reached a massive stone door.

Jerrick pushed it open, revealing a world unlike anything Jessamyn had imagined. She stepped out, blinking in disbelief.

Beyond the door lay a hidden valley bathed in golden sunlight. A sprawling forest stretched out before her, filled with the sound of rustling leaves and the distant cry of hawks soaring in the clear blue sky.

Rolling hills, dotted with wildflowers in every shade of purple and blue, gave way to neat rows of stone cottages nestled along the base of the mountain. It was a place of serene beauty, yet there was an unmistakable aura of strength here—a feeling that this was where warriors were born and forged.

"Is this where they live?" Jessamyn asked in awe, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jerrick nodded. "The Scorpions prefer solitude. They live by their own code, away from the world’s eyes. This is their haven."

She gently cradled her belly, feeling a gentle flutter from the child within her. Even their unborn son seemed to respond to the powerful energy of this place, as if already in tune with the warriors who called this valley home.

The wind carried the scent of pine, wildflowers, and steel, blending into a symphony of sounds—clashing swords, grunts of exertion, and the rhythmic thud of boots pounding the earth. It was a place where power and tranquility coexisted.

Lost in her thoughts, Jessamyn’s reverie was suddenly interrupted by a shadow falling across her face. She squinted up at the sky, only to find it wasn’t the sun casting this shadow but something else—something far more imposing. Her gaze followed the shadow downward, and her breath caught in her throat.

Towering above her was a giant of a man, clad in dark leather armor that strained to contain his massive form. In his hands, he wielded a battle axe, the blade gleaming wickedly in the sunlight. The weapon was monstrous, its blade alone larger than most men’s shields, with jagged edges that could cleave through bone and steel alike. The handle, wrapped in rough leather, was gripped by hands the size of small boulders. The axe’s wicked edge was pointed directly at Jessamyn, as if it hungered for blood.

For a heartbeat, time seemed to freeze. Jessamyn felt the icy fingers of fear clutch at her heart. Was this the moment she would meet her end?

The air around her crackled with tension as the warrior took a deliberate step forward. The ground beneath her feet trembled with the weight of each step. Her eyes locked onto the giant’s face, obscured by a helmet that left only his cold, calculating eyes visible. Those eyes held no warmth, no recognition—only the impassive gaze of a predator sizing up its prey.

Jessamyn’s instincts screamed at her to flee, but her body felt rooted to the spot, paralyzed by the sight of death looming before her. Her breath hitched as she clutched her belly protectively, her mind racing in frantic prayer for the safety of her child.

Just when she thought she could no longer bear the tension, the axe moved—swiftly, decisively—swinging downward with a force that promised to sever flesh from bone.

At that precise moment...

Jerrick stepped forward, his movements unhurried and steady. He placed a reassuring hand on the small of her back, grounding her in the midst of the chaos. Instead of focusing on the descending axe, Jessamyn turned her gaze to Jerrick, seeking comfort in his deep green eyes. Just by looking at him, she felt her fear begin to melt away.

He smiled at her, a gesture filled with warmth and confidence. Standing protectively by her side, he calmly raised his arm. Jessamyn’s eyes followed the motion, watching in awe as his hand transformed into a powerful wolf’s paw, claws extending menacingly.

The giant finally noticed Jerrick, but it was too late to halt the swing of his axe. The momentum was too great to be stopped. Before he could even consider his next move, the weapon crashed down, meeting Jerrick’s transformed, clawed hand with a resounding impact.