Chapter 8: Whats my reason?
Lucy stood frozen in the Grand Hall, stunned by what he'd just heard. All around him, the other races erupted into thunderous cheers. Even Llarm joined in, fist raised, face glowing with excitement.
'War!? I can't fight in a war—I'm weak as hell!'
He tried to steady his breathing, mentally clawing for any reassurance.
'Wait... she said the best 5,000 soldiers. There's no way I'm part of that—I got picked 4,000 this year!'
Relief washed over him like a warm tide. 'Oh, thank god. Dodged that flaming deathball.'
But before he could get too comfortable, a single raised hand cut through the noise like a blade.
Darfin had stepped forward.
The cheers around Lucy died quickly, first in ripples, then the crowd fell silent. Even the giants and ogres quieted at his presence.
Darfin stood tall, his posture flawless, expression unreadable. His golden hair shimmered under the chandeliers, catching the light like a blade unsheathed.
He didn't need to shout. His voice carried on sheer authority.
"Comrades," he began, "as you've heard, this war will occur on a distant planet. Unfortunately, due to its unstable nature, it cannot withstand the presence of more than 5,000 soldiers per side."