War is Here
Roman, one of the dragon riders, entered the healer's tent with a sense of urgency. He alerted everyone to be on high alert as the possibility of war loomed ahead.
The statement carried a weight of uncertainty, based on Ragnar's instincts as the warlord of Gamaaloth. His intuition had proven reliable in the past, prompting the need for immediate readiness.
Lady Sophia, having just returned from gathering herbs, wasted no time instructing the healer girls to don their iron armor vests.
It was a precautionary measure to safeguard themselves against potential attacks. Although stationed at the border, offering their services to the wounded, the healers were not exempt from danger.
The enemy often targeted them, viewing them as sorceresses capable of healing their wounded soldiers.
In their eyes, eliminating the healers disrupted the cycle of soldiers returning to the battlefield, rendering their efforts less effective.
The healers understood the risks involved and remained vigilant, knowing their lives were linked to the outcome of the impending conflict.
"Does General Pyndale have knowledge of this?" Lady Sophia inquired, concern evident in her eyes as she looked at Roman.
Roman nodded in response, confirming that General Pyndale was indeed aware of the situation.
Lady Sophia's worry deepened as she glanced at Adeline, a fellow healer. The soldiers from Cescil hadn't fully recovered from their injuries, and the reinforcements from Gamaaloth had yet to arrive.
"If Ostrill manages to regain their strength quicker than anticipated, our forces will be at a disadvantage," Lady Sophia murmured, her voice tinged with apprehension. The delicate balance of power in the war hung in the balance, and time was of the essence.
Lady Sophia's mind raced with thoughts and possibilities. She knew the soldiers under her care in Cescil were still vulnerable, their bodies weakened and their spirits fragile.
Without ample time to heal and regain their strength, they would be ill-prepared for a full-scale conflict.
Her gaze shifted to the horizon, where the Gamaaloth troops were expected to arrive. The anticipation weighed heavily on her, as the success of their alliance relied on the reinforcements from their neighboring kingdom.
If those reinforcements were delayed or unable to provide the necessary support, the outcome would be dire.
* * *
As Ragnar perched atop Ymat, his piercing gaze scanned the vast expanse before him. The border of Clearport stretched out below, the shimmering waters of the river winding through the landscape.
His heart sank as he observed the movement of Gamaaloth's army, slowly progressing toward their destination. Mm
The realization hit him like a gust of cold wind. The timing was off, and they faced a crucial setback. The route they had taken, although seemingly the most direct, had led them astray. It became apparent they wouldn't reach Clearport in time to reinforce their allies.
A mix of frustration and concern washed over Ragnar. The urgency of the situation demanded swift action, yet he found himself restrained by time and distance limitations. His mind raced, searching for alternative paths, but options seemed scarce.
He contemplated the consequences of their delayed arrival. The troops in Clearport would be left vulnerable, fighting against the enemy without the much-needed reinforcements. It was a grave blow to their strategy and a potential turning point in the war.
Ragnar's grip tightened on Ymat's reins as he wrestled with the weight of the situation. His mind raced through possible solutions, trying to salvage the dire circumstances they found themselves in.
As Ragnar's eyes scanned the horizon, he caught sight of two distant black dots moving steadily closer.
Relief washed over him, realizing it must be Reeve and Uzana accompanied by their mighty dragons.
However, Ragnar's momentary relief was abruptly shattered as sudden flashes erupted from the direction of the Newside border.
His trained eyes recognized them as spear arrows, glinting ominously in the sunlight. The realization struck him like a physical blow, a stark reminder of their imminent danger.
As the tumultuous battle raged on, Ragnar's keen eyes detected a new threat emerging from the horizon.
Several sleek and formidable flying objects came into view, their distinct shape leaving no doubt in Ragnar's mind.
He recognized them as Trurian Kingdom's fighter aircraft, advanced technological marvels unique to the Trurian kingdom.
These aircraft, with their streamlined design and powerful engines, showcased the Trurians' dominance in aerial warfare.
Ragnar knew facing these formidable adversaries would require unwavering courage and resourcefulness.
The appearance of the Trurian aircraft signaled a significant escalation in the conflict, further intensifying the already dire situation.
As the aircraft swiftly closed in, their propellers slicing through the air, Ragnar felt a surge of urgency. Reeve, Uzana, and their dragons were in imminent danger.
The Trurian fighters were equipped with devastating weaponry, capable of inflicting substantial damage to both the dragons and their riders.
Instinct kicked in, and Ragnar's mind raced with the urgency of the situation. His comrades were in jeopardy, caught in the crossfire of enemy attacks.
The enemy's intentions became clear, seeking to eliminate Reeve, Uzana, and their dragons before they could reach safety.
Without a moment's hesitation, Ragnar spurred Ymat into action. The majestic dragon responded with agility and speed, veering toward the direction of the skirmish.
The wind whipped past Ragnar's face as they closed the distance, tension mounting with each passing second.
As Ragnar and his companions drew closer, their eyes widened in horror at the chaotic scene unfolding before them.
Reeve and Uzana skillfully maneuvered their dragons, evading the relentless onslaught of spear arrows from the Trurian fighter aircraft.
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