Part 10: House Malum

The battle had been lost, but the war was far from over. As House Decus began to regroup, rallying under the banner of their greatest warrior, Ser Valen, House Malum's retreat into the skies was only the beginning of a deeper, darker plan. For the soldiers of House Malum, defeat on the ground meant nothing. It was only a temporary setback, a small ripple in the vast, ever-moving tide of their ambitions.

High above the battlefield, in the darkness of the Malum warship, Commander Solin stood at the bridge, staring out at the retreating forces of House Malum. His sharp eyes, cold as the void of space, were fixed on the horizon where the last remnants of the House Malum fleet disappeared. His lips curled into a thin, almost imperceptible smile, as if the loss was merely a part of a larger design.

"We've underestimated them," Solin said, his voice smooth yet filled with a cold edge. He turned to the officers standing behind him. "But this is not over. House Decus may have won this battle, but the war has just begun. And now, we will show them the true cost of resistance."

His eyes flicked to the large tactical display in the center of the bridge. A map of the galaxy, dotted with the locations of the various imperiums under House Malum's reach, flickered with light. The coordinates for the next target were already being plotted.

"We regroup. We resupply. And then… we strike again."

The Malum Fleet

The retreating ships of House Malum fell back to their hidden base in the outer rim, a dark fortress built into the hollowed-out remains of a forgotten planet. It was a place few knew of—a place where the scars of the old world were still visible, twisted and corrupted by the ambition of the Malum family. The base was a fortress, not just of walls but of secrecy, filled with weapons, soldiers, and more ominous things.

Inside the warroom of their hidden fortress, Solin stood before a table lined with various officers, strategists, and commanders, each of them now fully aware of what had happened.

"You let Decus live," one of the commanders said, his voice accusatory. "Why?"

Solin's gaze sharpened. "I let them think they have a chance. Let them build their hope, then crush it in one swift blow. The rebellion will fade as quickly as it arose."

He moved towards a large holographic projection in the center of the room, the image flickering to life. The symbols for House Decus, still holding their small territories and cities, glowed faintly on the map.

"They have their heroes. Their warriors like Ser Valen," Solin continued. "But we have something they don't. Cibus."

The projection zoomed in on the mysterious resource that powered ships, weapons, and entire cities. Its power was limitless, its origins obscure, and the only thing that mattered now was the Malum's control over it.

The strategists nodded, understanding the implication. Cibus was more than just a resource; it was the key to dominance.

"We're not just going to defeat them. We're going to wipe their name from the galaxy," Solin continued. "I'll need the full force of House Malum. Prepare the fleets. Gather the Cibus stockpiles. We strike at the heart of House Decus. Their capital."

A buzz filled the room as the officers saluted, a quiet but deadly determination in their eyes.

Solin turned away, his mind already working, plotting the next move in his mind. The bloodshed of the battlefield was a small price to pay. Victory was inevitable. It was only a matter of time.

The Malum Leadership

Back in the deepest chambers of House Malum's headquarters, in a room far removed from the battlefield and the war rooms, the true leaders of Malum convened in private. These were the ones who controlled everything from the shadows—the ones who never emerged to face the battlefield, but whose decisions and commands shaped the course of wars and empires.

The dim, flickering lights of the chamber cast long shadows across the faces of the Malum leaders. A council of the most powerful figures of the house, their eyes sharp and calculating.

Commander Solin was there, standing at the head of the table, his figure tall and imposing.

One of the leaders, an elderly man with sharp, sunken eyes, spoke first. His voice was gravelly, filled with the weight of ages and knowledge. "You underestimated House Decus. Their strength was more than we anticipated."

Solin didn't flinch. "House Decus is a symbol of resistance, but nothing more. They are fragile. I've already sent a message—let them think they've won. But we'll break them in time."

Another leader, a woman with platinum hair and cruel eyes, leaned forward. "You are certain the new weapon will be ready?"

Solin's smile was thin, but filled with confidence. "We've already begun the trials. Once the Cibus-enhanced weapons are deployed, there will be no stopping us. Decus won't know what hit them."

The older man nodded. "And the ships we've taken?"

"Prepared and ready," Solin replied. "We'll strike first at their capital, then we'll sweep through their territories. Their hearts will break, and their minds will crumble under the weight of what's to come."

The woman's eyes narrowed. "But Solin… you know what this means, don't you? Decus will be willing to throw everything into this fight. They'll send their best warriors. They'll keep fighting until they're annihilated."

Solin's eyes darkened, the flame of ambition burning brighter. "Then let them. The more they resist, the sweeter the victory. House Malum will break them."

The chamber fell silent, and then, the final words of their leader echoed in the room, chilling every soul present.

"We will burn House Decus to the ground."

The Battle to Come

The days following the retreat were filled with tension, as House Decus began to rebuild and fortify its position. The survivors trained, regrouped, and prepared for whatever came next. They knew the reprieve was temporary, that Malum would come again, and the next battle would be even more brutal.