The rebellion teetered on the edge of a precarious balance. With Edrik of the Blood advancing from the north and foreign kingdoms cautiously neutral, Juri Winkler knew the rebellion’s survival hinged on the next few moves. Edrik’s assault on Havenfield had sent shockwaves through the northern territories, and the rebels’ response would determine whether the rebellion could hold—or fracture.

  In the war room of Freehold Keep, Juri stood at the center of his leadership team, the room tense with anticipation.

  Juri’s sharp blue eyes scanned the map of the northern territories, his mind piecing together a strategy. Havenfield had been a critical loss, but it also revealed Edrik’s hand. His forces were bold, but they lacked the resources to sustain a prolonged campaign.

  “We can’t let him consolidate his hold on Havenfield,” Juri began. “If he fortifies the town, it’ll become a staging ground for further attacks. But if we strike now, we can turn his advance into a retreat.”

  Valeria Eldryn studied the map. “A direct assault would cost too many lives. Havenfield is already fortified, and Edrik has the advantage of high ground. We need to weaken him before we move.”

  Juri nodded. “That’s why we’ll cut off his supply lines first. Without food and reinforcements, his forces won’t be able to hold Havenfield.”

  Garrick volunteered to lead a team of sharpshooters and saboteurs into the mountains to target Edrik’s supply lines. His team’s mission was to ambush supply caravans and disable key routes, forcing Edrik to overextend his forces.

  “Keep it fast and quiet,” Juri said as Garrick prepared to leave. “We don’t need to wipe out his caravans—just make it impossible for him to rely on them.”

  Garrick grinned, adjusting his bow. “Don’t worry. By the time we’re done, his men will be wondering where their next meal’s coming from.”

  While Garrick’s team disrupted Edrik’s supply lines, Halrick and Kira were tasked with leading a diversionary strike near Stormhollow Ridge, a few miles east of Havenfield. The goal was to draw Edrik’s attention away from his rear defenses, forcing him to split his forces.

  Halrick smirked as he strapped on his armor. “You know, I’ve always been good at causing chaos. This’ll be fun.”

  Kira rolled her eyes. “Just don’t get too carried away. The point is to make them think we’re a bigger threat than we are, not to get yourself killed.”

  The final phase of Juri’s plan involved luring Edrik into a decisive battle at Blackspire Valley, a narrow pass south of Havenfield. The valley’s steep cliffs and rocky terrain would neutralize Edrik’s numerical advantage and allow the rebels to use their superior mobility and tactics.

  “We’ll make it look like we’re retreating,” Juri explained during the strategy meeting. “Once Edrik’s forces are in the valley, we’ll collapse the cliffs and trap them. Then we’ll hit them with everything we’ve got.”

  Garrick’s team moved through the mountains with precision, striking Edrik’s supply lines like ghosts in the night. Caravans were ambushed, bridges sabotaged, and key routes rendered impassable.

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Edrik’s commanders scrambled to respond, but every attempt to secure their supply lines only stretched their forces thinner.

  In one raid, Garrick’s team intercepted a critical shipment of mana cores intended for Edrik’s war machines. As they set the shipment ablaze, Garrick muttered, “That should slow him down.”

  Halrick and Kira’s diversionary strike unfolded with dramatic effect. Their forces staged mock assaults on loyalist outposts, using explosives and staged skirmishes to create the illusion of a larger rebel force.

  Edrik took the bait, diverting a significant portion of his forces to Stormhollow Ridge.

  As Kira observed the loyalists scrambling to reinforce their positions, she smirked. “They’re dancing to our tune.”

  Halrick chuckled. “I almost feel bad for them. Almost.”

  Back in Havenfield, Edrik of the Blood stood in the town square, his black armor gleaming in the torchlight. His commanders reported the chaos unfolding across the northern territories, their voices tense with frustration.

  “Our supply lines are in shambles,” one commander said. “The rebels are hitting us at every turn.”

  Edrik’s green eyes burned with anger, but his voice remained calm. “Winkler is trying to weaken us. But he underestimates our resolve. Let him think he’s winning. When the time comes, we’ll crush him.”

  Juri’s plan came to fruition as Edrik’s forces marched south in pursuit of the retreating rebels. Blackspire Valley loomed ahead, its steep cliffs and narrow paths perfect for an ambush.

  Juri piloted the Dominion-class Mech, its weapons fully operational after weeks of repairs. His sharp blue eyes scanned the terrain as rebel engineers set charges along the cliffs.

  “Wait for my signal,” Juri said through the comms.

  As Edrik’s forces entered the valley, the rebels unleashed their trap. Explosives detonated along the cliffs, sending massive rockslides crashing down and blocking the loyalists’ retreat.

  “Now!” Juri shouted.

  The rebels launched their assault, the Dominion leading the charge. The mech’s railgun fired in rapid bursts, tearing through enemy formations, while its Arc Pulse Cannon disrupted Edrik’s war machines.

  Halrick charged into the fray, his sword cutting down loyalist soldiers with brutal efficiency. Kira darted through the chaos, her daggers flashing as she took out key officers.

  Edrik, however, proved to be a formidable foe. Clad in enchanted blacksteel armor, he waded into the battle with a massive warhammer, crushing rebel fighters with terrifying strength.

  The battlefield seemed to part as Juri and Edrik finally faced each other. The Dominion loomed over the self-proclaimed king, but Edrik showed no fear.

  “You think your machines make you invincible?” Edrik snarled. “You’re nothing without them.”

  Juri’s sharp blue eyes narrowed. “And you’re nothing but a relic clinging to a broken crown.”

  The battle was brutal. Edrik’s enchanted armor deflected the Dominion’s weapons, forcing Juri to rely on precise strikes and tactical ingenuity. The two clashed in a storm of fire and steel, their duel becoming the focal point of the battlefield.

  As the battle raged, Juri spotted a weakness in Edrik’s armor—an exposed gap near the shoulder where the enchantments didn’t fully cover. With a calculated strike, Juri used the Dominion’s plasma cutter to pierce the gap, disabling Edrik’s warhammer and forcing him to his knees.

  “It’s over, Edrik,” Juri said, his voice cold.

  Edrik glared up at him, blood trickling from his mouth. “You may have won today, but you’ll never destroy the nobles. Our blood is in this land. It always will be.”

  Juri didn’t reply. He turned away, leaving Edrik to be taken into custody by rebel soldiers.

  The battle of Blackspire Valley was a decisive victory for the rebellion. Edrik’s forces were routed, and the loyalists’ momentum was shattered. News of Edrik’s capture spread quickly, demoralizing his remaining supporters and solidifying the rebellion’s hold on the north.

  Back at Freehold Keep, Juri addressed the People’s Assembly, his voice firm but resolute.

  “We’ve dealt a critical blow to the remnants of the noble regime,” he said. “But our fight isn’t over. We must remain vigilant, for peace is not given—it’s earned, day by day.”