Page 170 of The Wild Prince’s Favorite (The Dragon Empire Saga #3)

“Well,” Kiera sighed, swinging her favorite sword, “guess we’ll have to do a bit of cleaning first.”

Just then, silence reigned, the negotiations having obviously failed.

The Munsa Tribe’s male leader, Ekut, glanced at Kassein and shook his head in a defeated expression. Kassein took a deep breath and stepped forward, effectively standing a couple of steps ahead of his army and fellow leaders.

Then, he slowly drew his large, giant sword from its sheath, causing some gasps among the ranks.

It had been almost inconspicuous while hidden in the leather, but his sword was too heavy for most normal men to even carry, and its size was as impressive as the shine of its blade.

This was a weapon that had heavy damage and mass casualty written all over it, and the men on the frontlines paled at the sight of it in Kassein’s hand.

Slowly and deliberately, he pointed it at the man who had been shouting back at Ekut.

“...You chose to die,” he hissed.

In the distance, Kein let out a deafening growl, and Kassein took the first step. At first, he walked, almost casually, rain dripping down his hair and face, his dark green eyes riveted on the man who, for a split second, seemed to deeply regret his decision.

Then, Kassein accelerated, and he heard steps behind him. One pair of feet splashing the mud following him, then another, then another, then a dozen, then twice as many. After what looked like a second of hesitation, the first enemy line marched forward too.

Thunder suddenly boomed over their heads, and it was like chaos erupted all at once. Kassein ran, men shouted, and a head flew off. The war had begun.

Kassein had fought in a lot of battles before, but for the first time, he was experiencing the difference between being in battle and leading a war.

When he had stood in battle, he had always been able to see the end.

See the men fall, one after another, gauge the chaos around him, and know when the end was near.

But standing down here, in this hellish rift, there was no way to tell the end, no way to tell how many more men he’d have to slay before it was over.

It felt endless.

The rain was battering the troops, the mud was climbing up their ankles and licking their shins, and the thunder was raging along with the chorus of clashing blades and human cries.

It was sheer chaos all around him, and for a while, all he could do was slay, stab, and swing his sword as the men kept coming at him.

There was no room for him to check on his troops, let alone establish any kind of strategy.

He had a faint sense that they were trying to gang up on him, like they were trying to take down a giant.

Still, Kassein kept going, ignoring everything else, kicking bodies out of his way, focusing on his movements, staying aware of his blind spots, and spotting any enemies that dared to approach.

He had been trained to fight from the minute he had been able to hold a sword, and he’d had the strength of a dragon since his birth, but there was nothing that could test a man like hundreds of men coming at him and hoping to be the one to sever his head from his body.

Some men came howling, roaring, shouting like their battle cry was going to grant them some invisible power, only to be rendered mute or choking on their own blood seconds later.

It was all the warriors seeking glory in taking down the strongest of them all, and for a while, Kassein didn’t have the time to bother with mercy.

He acted like a mindless instrument of death, killing, slashing, and breaking anything that came his way with ill intent.

He didn’t bother with any war cry, only releasing grunts when his muscles began to ache, hot breaths when his skin burned, and spitting when something foreign entered his mouth.

There were no superficial movements, no speeches like some of those men did, for whatever reasons their customs or pride led them to.

Kassein didn’t care; he had a war to win and an opponent to defeat.

It took a long while before he was finally able to slow down just enough to check on everyone else, somewhere behind him.

He was standing at the very helm of his army, with Kiera, Ekata, Ekut, and Sazaran scattered a few paces behind and on the sides with their men, like he was leading an arrow’s head piercing through and behind enemy lines.

All of them seemed to be holding their ground with various amounts of fatigue showing; Sazaran’s arm was bleeding, and Ekata had changed weapons for some reason, but they were still going strong, flanked by allies and, instead of shouting orders few would hear, they led by example.

Kassein had to slay some more men who’d rushed at him before he could take another short break to check farther back.

Their army held the ranks tight with the Munsa Tribe, but as anticipated, more enemies had descended from the sides, and now, all the brigades were forced to battle, even those at the very back.

The enemy was trying to trap them, but that would be impossible so long as Kassein’s army didn’t let them win any ground.

For now, their exit route still looked solid, and no brigade was conceding.

Some tight pockets were forming around the injured to evacuate them, and Kassein could guess that although he was too far to be seen, Kauser had to be leading the troops at the rear and, if it was still possible, coordinating evacuations for whoever had a chance to make it.

They had established a post about a mile before the battlefield with an infirmary, with Tievin supervising it and a brigade to defend it, and Kassein hoped they’d manage to stay unharmed long enough.

He refocused on his end, but gradually, it became clear the enemies had stopped trying to charge him and were making efforts to avoid him instead; the path of defeated enemies behind him served as a clear warning to anyone who took the main route and tried to rush past Kassein.

Sadly for both armies, this rift offered absolutely no such thing as a safe route anywhere.

The terrain was just as dangerous as the blades they carried, and in the very first minutes of the battle alone, dozens of men had been injured or killed by unforeseen crevices, rocks suddenly falling, and underestimated cliff heights.

Even Kassein had felt sharp rocks stab his boots, soles, or skin several times as he’d been forced to step on them without looking.

This place was a nightmare to walk around in, let alone try to fight in; the ground was uneven, and unpredictable sharp-edged rocks were hidden in the growing amount of bloody mud pooling around them.

He’d learned enough medicinal basics from his mother to know many who survived this fight might die from infections, and it made him even more furious.

Whoever had picked this battleground had no regard for the lives of their soldiers.

The thunderstorm was making the already treacherous terrain twice as bad, and he was starting to understand the absolute horror the Munsa and Alezya had shown when their battlefield had been announced; their enemies were madmen.

When Ekata let out a frustrated cry, he glanced back and saw that she’d stuck her ankle in a crevice, tripped, and injured herself.

He was too far to help, but in a matter of seconds, Sazaran was over to shield her from enemies while she recovered and stood back up. They had to admit that the tribes weren’t shying away from the fight, at least the ones on their side. The same couldn’t be said for their opponents.

The trained warriors had obviously stood at the front, but the more Kassein pierced through enemy lines, the more he came across scared expressions, shivering hands, and tearful eyes.

Maybe some were just cold from the rain.

Still, either way, he slightly changed his attacks from then on, trying to focus his fatal blows on the most determined fighters and sparing the lives of anyone who showed weakness, satisfying himself by just harming them until they fell or gave up.

More than once, he saw a man fall, injured, and cower in the mud; Kassein moved on without looking back.

He also stopped trying to make more progress through the battleground; there was no point in burying themselves deeper into this hellhole.

Instead, Kassein determined that if their opponents were that eager to fight, they could cross the hellhole they’d picked to get to him; he would rather stand his ground and let them come than pull his men any deeper into this treacherous area.

“This. Fucking. Mud!” his sister barked from somewhere behind.

When he glanced back, Kiera was absolutely covered in mud, like she’d been hit by a wave of it, and the downpour wasn’t washing it off of her fast enough; he grimaced, unsure of what his sister had done to end up like this.

Maybe she had tripped at some point too because she looked positively pissed.

It took Kassein a second to realize that the only reason she had time to rant was that, like him, Kiera had reached a point where the enemy had deemed it better to try and avoid facing her at all.

She spat out something dark and kicked a man who was trying to get back up before she glanced up and smirked.

“Looks like our girl’s doing great.”

Kassein whipped his head around toward the skies.

It took him less than a second to spot his dragon, right before it dove with a furious growl onto the flank of one of the mountains surrounding the rift.

With all the chaos down there and the thunder above, Kassein had completely tuned out his own dragon’s furious growls, but now, it was clear that they echoed just as loudly as the skies all around them.