Interlude

In a dimly lit cave, shadows loomed as four figures gathered around a single candle, its flickering light casting long shadows on the walls. The air was thick with tension, the only sound the crackling of the candle as it burned slowly.

"When are we moving in?" a low, rumbling voice asked, the figure cloaked in darkness, his presence imposing and unreadable.

"We are moving in soon," a woman's voice responded, her tone smooth yet cold. She remained hidden, her form swallowed by the shadows, only her voice betraying her position. "The last of our forces are on their way."

"That's boring," another male voice chimed in, filled with restless energy. "I say we go in and destroy everything." His voice was rough, almost childlike in its enthusiasm, though the hood covering his face concealed his expression.

"We were ordered to stay on standby until the first forces arrive," the woman retorted, a note of finality in her voice.

"Why should I?" the excited voice shot back. "I want to have fun."

The deep voice, now tinged with menace, cut through the air like a blade. "Would you disobey orders?"

"I-I would never do such thing," the young man stammered, suddenly nervous under the weight of the deep voice's cold authority.

The cloaked figure ignored the interruption, his gaze piercing the shadows. "We were given orders, and we stick to the plan. We will move as soon as our forces arrive."

A brief silence hung in the air, heavy and expectant.

"Where should we strike first?" the deep voice asked, his tone calm but commanding.

"We will send our primary forces—30 groups—to create a distraction. Then, the secondary forces—52 groups—to the border villages. The extras will spread out to the other villages," the cloaked figure outlined, his voice cold and calculated. "We don't need the extras."

The remaining figures fell silent, understanding the ruthless efficiency of the plan. But then, the man with the excited voice spoke again, his tone mischievous.

"Ha, ha, ha, isn't that cold of you?" he chuckled darkly.

"My suggestion is we attack the south of the Mythos Empire," the woman interrupted, raising her hand as if to make her voice heard. "The south is the territory of Division 4."

The room fell silent as the other three figures turned to face her, their attention now fully on her.

"Hmm, yes," the deep voice murmured in thoughtful consideration. "Attacking Division 4's territory would be wise. Since the war, they've lost a lot of their forces."

"Indeed," the woman added, her voice laced with cold calculation. "It makes it the perfect spot to strike."

A spark of excitement flickered in the hooded figure's voice. "So we're attacking, right?"

"No," the deep voice said firmly. "We're not getting involved."

"Huh? So we're just sending in grunts?" The male voice questioned, disappointment tinged in his words.

"Yes, we follow orders," the deep voice replied, his tone final. "We must please the master."

A heavy silence followed as each figure nodded in agreement. Their plan was set, and their purpose was clear.

The final voice, previously silent, now spoke up, its tone cautious and wary. "I say we should be cautious. Underestimating the Division Knights could be dangerous."

The others snorted in disdain, dismissing the concerns. The excitement to move forward was palpable, and none were willing to slow down now.

"We should proceed with the plan," the deep voice affirmed. "Prepare everything to move when ordered."

"Roger!!" The excited male voice echoed in the cave, a sense of anticipation thickening the air.

The figures stood in the shadows, the candle flickering one last time before the room was swallowed by darkness. The plan was set into motion, and the wheels of hidden scheme were turning.