Chapter 379: Kingdom of Elberia
The war room of the Kingdom of Elberia was a modest, almost humble place, a stark contrast to the grandeur often associated with rooms where rulers deliberated over matters of state. The walls were lined with old banners, each marking a victory or an alliance of the past. A heavy wooden table dominated the center, covered with scrolls and maps detailing the lands of Elberia, Varzadia, and the neighboring territories. The air was thick with tension, the candles flickering, casting long shadows on the stone walls. Outside, the late afternoon sun hung low, sending shafts of light through the narrow windows, illuminating the dust swirling in the air.
King Alric stood at the head of the table, his face set in a thoughtful frown. He was a man in his late forties, his face marked by lines of age and worry. His crown was a simple one—not overly adorned, just a thin circle of silver that rested lightly on his graying hair. He was a cautious ruler, known for his ability to navigate delicate political situations, but today his face showed a trace of uncertainty. He leaned over the table, his hands resting heavily on the surface, his eyes fixed on the map of Varzadia that lay before him.
"They’re moving, Alric," said Marshal Hadrien, his chief military advisor, breaking the silence. The marshal was a burly man with a rough demeanor, his thick mustache quivering slightly as he spoke. He pointed to the northern border of Elberia on the map. "The reports indicate that Varzadia has increased its military presence here. Troop movements. Supplies. It doesn’t look like a mere exercise."
King Alric nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing as he took in the information. "Yes, Hadrien. This isn’t just a drill. Something is brewing in Varzadia, and I fear we might find ourselves caught in it."
He looked up at his council—a mix of military leaders, advisors, and nobles, all gathered around the table. The room was filled with an uneasy silence, each of them sharing the same apprehensive expression. Varzadia had always been a powerful neighbor, and their ambitions had never been a secret. Elberia, a much smaller kingdom, had managed to keep out of their sights through diplomacy and a careful balance of power. But now, it seemed, that balance was tilting.
Sir Edmund, the head diplomat, cleared his throat, stepping forward. He was a thin, wiry man with a sharp gaze, always attuned to the subtleties of court politics. "Your Majesty, we must consider what Varzadia’s true intentions could be. This kind of buildup is not something they do lightly. If they intend to march on Astellia, we could find ourselves in a precarious position—either caught in the middle or forced to take sides."
Alric nodded again, his gaze drifting to the northern part of the map. "That’s exactly what worries me, Edmund. We must be cautious, but we also need to understand what Varzadia is planning. If they are preparing for a campaign, Elberia could be in their path—or worse, their target."
A murmur of agreement went through the room. The tension was palpable, a sense of urgency beginning to grow among those gathered. The uncertainty of what lay ahead was unnerving, even for those who had seen their fair share of conflict.
Marshal Hadrien crossed his arms, his expression hardening. "We should strengthen our defenses along the northern border. If Varzadia moves, we need to be ready to defend ourselves."