Will of the Battlefield

Chapter 80: Talk of Continent

War had a peculiar way of traveling.

Armies always marched on roads. Merchants traveled mostly by caravans. But news... news traveled faster than both.

Before Krynova’s soldiers reached the walls of Kufashr, every throne on the continent had already heard whispers of the coming conflict.

Some welcomed it, others feared it. Most simply watched and used their brains, testing the waters of both nations.

Who knows, they might knock on their doors next, a possibility in a warring era.

Best case, they could take advantage of two weakened and wounded beasts even.

For kings and emperors, another man’s war was often an opportunity.

The Great Murak Empire, the largest nation on the continent. The oldest, the richest, and also the most feared.

Within the imperial palace of white marble, dozens of ministers stood beneath towering pillars. Sunlight streamed through colored glass, painting the floor with shades of gold and crimson.

At the palace’s heart rested the Dragon Throne.

It was sculpted from gleaming white stone, its armrests formed by two coiled dragons whose jaws opened beside the emperor’s shoulders.

Their scales shimmered with veins of silver, and their wings arched behind the throne like a frozen storm.

The emperor sat unmoving upon it, draped in robes of simplicity. His posture was effortless, his expression unreadable. He spoke no words, yet the entire court waited on his silence.

Power did not cling to him; it settled around his dominant presence like the weight of a mountain. Ancient, absolute, and unquestioned.

A man whose age nobody dared ask, his fingers drummed lazily against the armrest.

"Seventy thousand?" The emperor uttered.

A minister bowed. "More than eighty thousand if mercenaries were to be included, Your Majesty."

The emperor hummed. "Krynova’s ambition is growing."

A general snorted. "They’ve mistaken prosperity for strength."

Several ministers nodded.

The Empire had existed for centuries. To them, every younger kingdom eventually made the same mistake.

Krynova Kingdom and the Murak Empire don’t share a border. They only heard and read of each other’s strength, never witnessed it.

One elderly advisor cleared his throat. "The Khanate won’t be easy prey."

The emperor smiled. "Barbarians, blood-craving animals they are."

His gaze drifted toward the massive map hanging behind the throne. "The Khanate produces tribal warriors, very different from Krynova’s armoured soldiers."

A brief silence followed, then the emperor chuckled. "I wonder which is more valuable."

One minister cautiously stepped forward. "There is another matter I’d like to add, Your Majesty."

The emperor raised an eyebrow. "Speak."

The minister spoke. "The academy examinations in Bentram."

Several officials looked confused. A war between nations was one thing, but academy gossip was another.

The minister continued. "A common-born youth named Thane defeated Etno Kamsi."

That gained attention. The emperor’s fingers stopped moving.

"Kamsi? The Kamsi family of Krynova?"

The minister continued with a smile. He had got the emperor’s attention. "He also defeated Donovan Young."

Now even the generals looked interested. The Young family was famous. Not because of politics, but because they produced monsters.

The emperor leaned back. "A commoner defeated both?"

"Yes, and then failed a maze."

The entire court became silent. A general frowned. "Failed a maze?"

"Yes," he replied with an awkward chuckle.

The emperor stared at the minister in curiosity before bursting out laughing. The sound echoed throughout the hall. "Interesting."

He stayed silent for some time before he gazed back at the minister. "Let’s make it more interesting. Summon me the principals of the academies, every single one, within two hours."

Ministers bowed and hurried their way out.

On another region of the map, the Drevlorn Dynasty had similar discussions ongoing.

Unlike Murak’s elegance, Drevlorn valued strength. Its palace resembled a fortress. Stone and steel, all painted in black.

Inside a council chamber, several nobles sat around a circular table.

At the center sat Count Young, Donovan’s father. A broad-shouldered man with six lines upon his face.

His mood was terrible, as a messenger had just finished speaking.

The room remained silent. Count Young’s fingers tightened around his chair.

"So." His voice was calm, dangerously calm. "My son traveled across nations."

Nobody spoke as he talked.

"He represented our dynasty, and he was beaten."

A noble coughed. "He was disqualified."

Another looked away. "He returned with a broken jaw."

The count’s eye twitched. No one dared mention the missing teeth.

One elderly lord finally spoke. "This Thane..."

The count looked at him. "He sounds troublesome."

"He’s a giant."

"He is, by the rumours."

"He defeated Etno Kamsi afterward."

"He did as per reports."

The old lord sighed. "Then perhaps Donovan simply met someone extraordinary."

The count stared at him long enough to make the old man regret speaking.

Finally, he exhaled. "He still embarrassed our family."

Nobody disagreed. Another noble cleared his throat. "The war may help."

The count looked up. "How?"

"People forget academy tournaments." A cruel smile appeared. "But they remember victories." fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓

The room understood immediately. If Drevlorn performed well in the coming war between the kingdom and the Khanate, Donovan’s humiliation would fade.

Perhaps not entirely, but enough to raise his head.

Count Young slowly nodded. "Perhaps."

On Bentram Kingdom’s side.

The royal palace was unusually lively. For once, war wasn’t the main topic.

The giant examination hall echoed with laughter.

The king sat upon his throne while ministers argued below.

One minister slammed a report onto a table. "He defeated both!"

Another waved a different report. "He failed a maze!"

"He defeated Etno Kamsi!"

"He got lost. He is a naive brute!"

"He became champion!"

"He walked in circles! For God’s sake, he is dumb."

The argument continued.

The king watched quietly and amused. He remembered Thane a week ago.

Eventually, one minister stepped forward. "Your Majesty."

"Yes?" the king replied.

He asked with a perplexed face. "What exactly are we supposed to think of him?"

The king smiled. It was a dangerous question, but the king was in a pleasant mood for some reason.

The ministers waited. The answer would influence countless opinions.

Finally, the king smirked. "I think he’s funny."

The room froze. Funny? That was not the answer they expected.

The king continued. "He’s brave."

"He is."

"Strong."

"He is."

"Loyal."

"He appears to be."

Everyone started to repeat the king’s words. No one dared to oppose.

The king nodded. "Then I don’t care if he gets lost."

Several ministers exchanged glances. The king leaned forward. "And if he truly is common-born..."

His smile widened. "...then Bentram has gained something valuable."

The king knew Thane’s identity, but he kept it hidden. If the son of counts called himself lowborn, why would the king bother to reveal him?

Talent belonged to whoever nurtured it.

The king then stopped. A thought came to his mind as he turned to the ministers. "Prepare my carriage. I’m going to visit my grandchildren."

As for the Land of Sun, Soland.

Far south, beneath golden deserts and blazing skies, Soland’s royal court held a different conversation.

A prince listened as travelers recounted the story.

The young royal laughed so hard he nearly spilled his drink.

"He defeated two prodigies?"

"Yes, my liege."

"Then lost to directions?"

"Indeed, my liege."

The prince wiped tears from his eyes. "I like him already."

His advisor sighed. "You say that about every idiot."

"No." The prince pointed dramatically. "This idiot sounds special."

At another corner of the continent, Sultanate of Khol.

The grand vizier finished reading the report. The sultan listened patiently.

When the report ended, the sultan asked only one question.

"Can he fight?"

"Very well."

"Can he lead?"

"We have no idea." fɾēewebnσveℓ.com

"Can he think?"

The vizier hesitated.

The sultan immediately understood. "Mhm."

A thoughtful silence followed, then the ruler smiled. "That means someone clever will eventually adopt him."

The vizier nodded. Most powerful warriors eventually attracted powerful patrons.

That was simply how the world worked.

As for the Republic of Tataria.

Merchants cared little for honor. They cared about opportunities.

A group of wealthy traders sat around a table discussing both stories.

The war and Thane. One merchant stroked his beard. "The war will raise steel prices."

Another nodded. "Horses too."

A third waved dismissively. "What about the giant?"

The first merchant laughed. "What about him?"

"He sounds marketable."

The room went silent.

Slowly, everyone turned toward him. The merchant spread his arms. "A giant commoner defeats nobles from two nations."

Nobody spoke.

"The story practically sells itself."

Now everyone understood. One trader smiled, another started calculating, a third immediately began planning songs and stories.

War wasn’t the only profitable thing in the world. Heroes were profitable too.

Meanwhile... Far from royal courts, far from noble councils, far from political calculations.

Thane sat with Conor, Sky, Rimon, Max, and Eudora, eating again.

A truly impressive amount of food sat before him.

Conor watched with fascination. "Do you ever stop?"

"No."

"That’s concerning."

Thane pointed his fork. "You lost because you’re too skinny."

Conor nearly choked. Sky laughed at him.

Rimon buried his face in his hands, as Max simply shook his head.

Eudora looked almost proud. She was happy her brother had friends.

The giant stuffed another piece of meat into his mouth.

Completely unaware that kings discussed him.

That the rulers knew his name. The noble families cursed him. The merchants planned to profit from him. The academy principals argued over him.

To Thane, life was very simple. The tournament was over. He had friends. He had food.

And somewhere in the future, there would probably be another fight.

For now, that was enough. The continent, however, was beginning to realize something.

The war between Krynova and Tharun’kai might change borders.

It might change kingdoms. It might change history itself.

But another story was quietly beginning alongside it.

The story of a giant who was either destined for greatness or too stubborn to realize he wasn’t supposed to achieve it.