Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The cold winds blew on the plains of the Kingdom of Sky as Elion stood on the ramparts of the main castle. The light of the torches dimly lit the stone wall, casting dancing shadows over his serious face. His gaze was directed towards the horizon, where the steep hills were lost in the morning mist. Since his confrontation with Ahlrik, the weight of responsibility seemed to have doubled on his shoulders. He knew that this meeting marked the beginning of a major change.

Veyla approached silently, her light step on the wet paving stones. She wore a dark fur cape, and her piercing gaze lingered for a moment on Elion's tense profile.

"The troops are ready," she said calmly. "We have identified the available forces."

Elion turned to her with his arms folded.

"How many soldiers can fight?"

"Four thousand regular foot soldiers," she answered. "A thousand light horsemen and five hundred archers." Not to mention the support units. But..."

Elion raised an eyebrow.

"But?"

"The majority of our troops do not exceed rank 2. We have only about 50 Tier 3 knights and three Tier 4 generals," she explained, her grave tone. "You are currently the only one to have reached rank 4 among the ruling nobility."

Elion sighed, his gaze darkened. The military rank system within the Kingdom of Sky was based on an individual's ability to manipulate mana and strengthen his body with it. Power was measured on a scale of 1 to 9:

Rank 1: Level of recruits and basic soldiers.

Rank 2: Intermediate level, the majority of experienced soldiers reached this stage.

Rank 3: Advanced level, reserved for elite knights and officers.

Rank 4: Rare level, where mastery of mana allowed for impressive physical and magical feats.

Rank 5: Level of high-profile generals, able to influence the course of a battle by their mere presence.

Rank 6 and above: Legendary level, very few humans had reached this threshold. Those who succeeded were considered living heroes.

So the military situation in the Kingdom of Sky was precarious. Elion himself, reaching rank 4 at his young age, had already established himself as an anomaly within the system. But that was not enough in the face of the scale of the threat he foresaw.

"We are weak," he said, turning to Veyla. "If a tier 4 or tier 5 army were to attack our kingdom today, we would be swept away in one battle."

Veyla nodded.

"That's why we need to accelerate military reform," she said. "Soldiers are ready to learn, but we lack the structure and resources."

"The problem is that the kingdom lacks money and raw materials." "The economic reform we have begun is still too fragile to support such rapid military development," Elion replied.

Veyla approached, a serious gleam in her eyes.

"Then we have to prioritize. You said you wanted to establish a military society inspired by the Spartans. This kind of system is not built in a day. But..."

Elion looked at her intensely.

"But?"

"We could start with the formation of an elite unit." A force composed only of warriors of rank 3 or higher. Soldiers ready to go into battle without hesitation."

Elion thought for a moment, weighing the options. An elite unit... That might work. He knew that he could not hope to strengthen all his forces at once, but if he could at least create an elite capable of dealing with the most urgent threats, he could stabilize the situation in the short term.

"How many potential candidates?" he asked.

"If we only select those who are already tier 3 or who have the potential to reach it quickly... a hundred, maybe."

"One hundred elite warriors," whispered Elion. "That might be enough to hold a front line, but not for a full-scale war."

"It will be a start," Veyla replied resolutely. "But that means we have to put in place a clear chain of command and an intensive training structure."

"We need a competent commander," said Elion. "Someone of rank 4, at least."

Veyla had a fine smile.

"You are the king. Who better than you to bring about this unity?"

Elion put a hand in his hair, thinking. The idea of personally forming an elite unit was glamorous, but it involved constant involvement and total concentration. Yet, if he wanted to turn his kingdom into a functioning military state, he had no other choice.

"Very good," he said at last. "Select the top 100 candidates. I will start their training tomorrow."

"All right, Majesty," said Veyla, with a slight satisfied smile.

At that moment, a guard burst onto the rampart, short-breathing.

"Majesty! A messenger has arrived! He carries a sealed letter from Count Alrik!"

Elion took the parchment that the guard handed him. The red wax seal had the symbol of the count: a black axe surrounded by a circle of thorns. He tore the seal and quickly went through the letter. His face hardens as he reads.

"What does he say?" asked Veyla.

"An attack," Elion answered, looking up. "Monsters." A horde gathered at the northern border. Alrik asks for immediate assistance."

Veyla squinted her eyes.

"Monsters? What guy?"

"He doesn't specify it," said Elion. "But if he took the trouble to send a personal messenger, it means that the threat is serious."

"What are we doing?" asked Veyla.

Elion put the letter in his coat and took a deep breath.

"We leave immediately. It's time to test the skills of our soldiers... and see if this kingdom is really ready for war."

Veyla nodded.

"I'll prepare the troops."

Elion turned to the horizon. The wind was blowing harder now, carrying with it the promise of an impending battle. He knew this was just the beginning. If the kingdom of Sky were to survive, it would have to prove that it deserved its place on the world's powers.

And Elion Skyless was going to show everyone why he had become king.