The Lustforged Hero-Chapter 48: The march

Liam stepped into the courtyard, the cool dawn air biting at his skin. The torchlight behind him flickered and faded as he got outside.

Ahead, Kael stood like a sentinel, his bronze armor dull in the gray light, his red hair stark against the paling sky. Breath fogged in front of him as he stood with his hands on his hips, his gaze locked forward, unreadable.

Around them, the courtyard buzzed with quiet purpose—spies and riders milled, saddles creaked, horses snorted, the scent of hay and sweat thick in the air. The faint clinking of metal echoed as soldiers adjusted weapons and armor, finalizing preparations.

Liam's boots crunched against the gravel as he stepped toward Kael, his cloak swaying, the dull ache in his thighs waking with every stride. His heart still felt split, lingering in that small, warm room. But duty hardened against it, pushing passion deeper, locking it away where it couldn't distract him. The world was stirring, waking. Dawn was breaking.

Movement at the side gate caught his attention. The girls emerged in a loose formation, stepping into the courtyard with quiet grace. Lysandra's silver hair caught the faint morning light, shimmering like frost. Beside her, Selene's tail flicked behind her, her crimson eyes glinting with sharp amusement, always watching, always seeing more than she let on. Erynn moved with measured confidence, her golden curls bouncing as she walked, her staff tapping against the stone with each step. Her green eyes, bright and perceptive, flicked over the gathered riders before settling on them.

As they approached, the riders instinctively parted, giving them space. Erynn's voice carried easily over the quiet murmur of preparations, her words calm, clear, cutting through the morning stillness like a blade. "Preparations are nearly done. Horses are saddled, spies have been briefed. The king will be here soon to address the troops."

Her gaze flicked toward the palace, taking in the closed doors and the glowing windows beyond. Then, her eyes returned to them—steady, expectant. Kael grunted in acknowledgment, shifting slightly, but his face remained unreadable, green eyes locked forward, focused.

Liam's chest tightened, nerves flickering beneath his skin. Could they sense it? Smell it? Did Isabella's scent cling to him like a whispered secret, waiting to be uncovered?

His eyes darted toward Kael's face, searching for a sign—anything. But Kael remained still, stone-like. There was no jab, no knowing glance, no sharp remark. Just silence. And somehow, that was worse.

Liam shifted, his boots scuffing against the gravel. He cast a quick glance at Selene, who had sidled up beside him, her crimson eyes narrowing slightly, nose twitching. Sharp. Too sharp. She caught things others missed, always had.

Her lips curled, slow, knowing.

Liam's breath caught.

Selene leaned in, voice low, teasing, the purr of amusement threading through her words. "What's up with you?" A pause. Her grin widened.

His jaw clenched. His eyes flicked to her, sharp, warning. His voice came quick, low, firm. "Not a word."

Selene laughed softly, raising her hands in mock surrender. "Calm down. Lips sealed. Wouldn't dream of it." But the glint in her crimson eyes said otherwise—mischief sparked beneath the surface, delighting in his discomfort.

Liam exhaled, tension thrumming beneath his skin, but relief crept in, too. Whatever she suspected, whatever she'd caught, she wouldn't say a thing. Not now.

The wind picked up, tugging at his cloak. Lysandra and Erynn exchanged quiet glances, the weight of the morning settling over them all.

Then the horn blared—short, crisp, cutting through the stillness.

Everyone's heads turned.

A guard's voice rang out, clear, strong, authority woven into every word. "The king approaches. Stand ready!"

Armor gleamed as men straightened, backs stiffening, hands settling on weapons. Horses quieted. The air shifted, thickening, heavy with expectation.

LPalace doors swung open.

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The king strode forward, his gray beard bristling, his crown dull under the pale morning light, his heavy robe sweeping behind him. Guards flanked him, their faces impassive, their movements precise.

The courtyard stilled.

Every eye was on him as he reached the center, his gray gaze sweeping over them—spies, soldiers, riders, the girls—Liam.

Authority settled over them like a weight. The dawn light crept higher, washing the scene in pale gold.

The moment stretched, heavy, waiting.

The king raised a hand and the silence deepened.

His voice boomed, brief, piercing, every word landing with the force of steel and fire, branding itself into the morning air.

"Eryndor is standing. Maltheris threatens our peace once more. You ride today to sever their roots and set fire to their shadow looming over Eryndor. To bring back dawn. And I believe we will prevail, we always have."

His fist clenched and his gray eyes blazed. His beard shifted with the force of his words. His crown gleamed, catching the first streaks of morning light.

A beat.

Then—The troops roared.

Fists thumped against chests. Horses stamped. Riders cheered. The energy in the courtyard shifted, coiled, ready to spring forward.

Kael's jaw tightened. Lysandra nodded once, silver eyes gleaming. Selene's tail lashed, excitement stirring beneath her smirk. Erynn smiled, quiet but knowing.

Liam's chest swelled.

The king stepped back and Guards moved and the signal was given.

The plan was alive.

The speech was done, the moment carved into legend.

Dawn streaked gold across the sky. The march began.

Riders swung into saddles, leather creaking, horses shifting beneath them. Spies split, darting northwest, dust kicking up in their wake. Soldiers formed ranks, boots stomping in unison, metal ringing in final preparation.

Kael mounted his roan, steady, green eyes fixed forward.

Liam climbed onto his bay, the horse shifting beneath him, sensing the tension in the air. His cloak settled around his shoulders, weight familiar, grounding.

The girls moved with them—Lysandra's mare pranced, eager. Selene's gelding snorted, impatient. Erynn's chestnut stepped neatly beneath her, staff strapped securely to her back.

The king watched from his place, gray eyes firm, unyielding.

The courtyard emptied, movement rippling outward. The gates stood open.

Liam's gaze flicked back, just once, toward the palace.

Selene smirked beside him, but she said nothing.

Kael moved in front of them as the riders fanned out and the troops marched. The gravel crunched beneath hooves and boots.