The Warrior’s Honor

The Sky Falls Silent

The Plains of Leipira, once a storm of fire, steel, and war machines, now lay in an unnatural stillness. The ground was littered with the remains of Formicrons, broken weapons, and the bodies of warriors who had fought until the last breath.

Above them, the Defiance Vanguard, the mightiest warship in Asemeri history, hovered like an unshaken monolith. Its presence had dictated the course of battle, its plasma cannons having carved destruction across the land without mercy.

Now, it remained motionless.

Its cannons did not fire. Its engines did not roar.

The battlefield—what remained of it—stood in anticipation.

Then, it moved.

The warship adjusted its trajectory, its thrusters humming to life with a deep, reverberating growl. A massive force of air and energy rippled through the battlefield, kicking up dust, smoke, and loose debris.

But the cannons did not turn back toward them.

Slowly, steadily, the Defiance Vanguard shifted away, rising into the darkened sky.

For the first time, it was not an executioner.

It was leaving.

The Meaning of the Retreat

The warriors of Val'katl, Salgar, and the remnants of the battlefield stood frozen, watching in disbelief as the warship disappeared into the horizon.

No final bombardment. No overwhelming counterattack.

The greatest force of destruction on the battlefield was simply… leaving.

Tlandar stood amongst his warriors, his hands still firm around Khalzir and Asharuk, the legendary twin blades of Asemeri chieftains.

The weapons had once belonged to Val'katl, a warlord who had endured five years of war. Now, they belonged to him.

Akashma's Formicron landed nearby, her cockpit hissing open as she stepped out, her red cloak still damp from the mist of the marshlands.

She stared at the sky, watching the Defiance Vanguard disappear.

Then, her gaze turned to Tlandar.

"Why?" she asked, breathless. "He could have obliterated us. He could have ended this war right now. Why did he leave?"

Tlandar didn't answer immediately. His mind was sharp, but his heart was still steadying from the intensity of the battle.

Finally, he spoke.

"Because he's Asemeri."

Akashma's brows furrowed. "What does that mean?"

Tlandar's grip on his swords tightened slightly, their indestructible alloy humming faintly in his hands.

"Asemeri do not win battles through cowardice, nor do we claim victory through dishonor." His voice was firm, his breath even. "Cosmus saw that I won today. And he will not stain his name by denying it."

Akashma narrowed her eyes. "You're telling me the most ruthless warlord alive has honor? That's why he left?"

Tlandar exhaled slowly, his gaze unshaken.

"We all have honor. That's what makes us Asemeri."

A long silence passed between them.

Then, Akashma shook her head. "If that's the case… he'll return."

Tlandar nodded.

"He will."

The Aftermath of War

The battlefield was no longer a place of chaos.

It was now a monument of endurance.

The remaining Val'katlans gathered together, warriors who had stood against Ixtiel for years, now standing under a new leader. The wounded were tended to, their brothers and sisters working quickly to stabilize those who could still fight another day. The fallen were honored, warriors draping cloth over their still bodies, whispering quiet words of remembrance.

Tlandar looked over the faces of those who remained.

There were many who had perished.

But those who had survived stood tall.

The Mark of Leadership

Tlandar turned as a group of warriors approached. Among them, a Val'katlan general, his armor still scarred from the battle.

The warrior studied Tlandar for a long moment.

Then, slowly, he knelt on one knee, his head bowed.

"Chieftain. What are your orders?"

Tlandar inhaled, his chest rising.

The word struck deeper than any blade.

He was no longer simply a warrior.

No longer simply a survivor.

The fate of an entire people now rested in his hands.

He looked toward the horizon where the Defiance Vanguard had vanished.

Then, he looked toward his warriors—his people.

Tlandar tightened his grip on Khalzir and Asharuk and spoke with absolute clarity.

"We prepare. We rebuild. And then… we take back New Asemeri."

The warriors stood, fists raised.

A final war cry echoed across the land.

The war was far from over.

But Tlandar would lead them to its end.