General Slade, a formidable figure radiating heat, arrived in the main city.
The bustling streets were alive with lights and laughter. Children gazed at him in awe, their faces alight with admiration. Men stood in hushed silence, their eyes reflecting envy and a hint of inspiration.
Slade, accustomed to being the center of attention, greeted them with a curt nod and a smile.
He moved through the throngs, his hand reaching out to gently pat the heads of the children, acknowledging their respect.
"AHHHHHHHHH! Ahhhhhhhh!"
the girls screamed, their voices rising in a chorus of adoration.
General Slade muttered, his voice laced with annoyance, "That bastard's behind me, isn't he?"
Vice General Reginald replied, "Yes, sir. General Chan and his army are behind us."
Slade turned and saw General Chan, his blue hair shimmering in the light, striding towards them with a group of giggling girls clinging to his arms.
"Damn," Slade grumbled.
"Not that pretty bastard with his new hair color. Does he really have to come on the same day I arrive?"
General Chan called out, his voice booming over the din of the crowd,
"General Slade!"
Chan asked, his tone friendly despite the underlying rivalry, "How's your duty, Slade?"
Slade replied, his voice edged with jealousy, "It's fine, I cleaned it as always."
A little girl approached General Chan, holding out a stuffed teddy bear.
"Sir, can you give me your signature on my teddy bear?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with adoration.
"Of course, little one," Chan said, signing the bear with a flourish.
He turned to General Slade, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "How about you, Slade? Will you sign it too?"
Slade sighed, accepting the bear with a reluctant smile. He scribbled his signature on the fabric, his face betraying his annoyance.
"Don't put a face like that," General Chan said, his voice laced with amusement. "You might scare the ladies."
Slade retorted, his voice laced with anger, "This is my face."
General Chan burst into laughter.
"Oh, I know," he said, putting his arm around Slade's shoulders. "Don't worry, Slade. You're a good man, even if you are a bit grumpy."
The grand hall of the castle, with its high vaulted ceilings and intricate tapestries depicting scenes of past triumphs, buzzed with anticipation. The scent of jasmine and lemon wafted from the gardens beyond the palace walls, a pleasant contrast to the tense atmosphere within.
After a week, all the Generals had arrived, even Supreme General Marco the Third, known as "Red Rock."
General Chan, General Ezekiel, General Slade, and General Jean stood before the King, their figures stoic and their gazes unwavering.
As they bowed, a wave of pressure, a palpable shift in the air, swept through the hall.
"Hey everyone!" boomed a voice as deep as a chasm, yet filled with unexpected warmth.
The King, a man with a weathered face and eyes that held the wisdom of a thousand battles, smiled and greeted his most trusted General. "General Marco, welcome!"
With a booming laugh that echoed through the hall, General Marco, his white and red hair a testament to a life of service and battle, embraced each of the Generals, his burly frame dwarfing them all.
He was in his fifties, the oldest and strongest General in the kingdom, a man who had earned his title through decades of unwavering loyalty and unmatched strength.
"How are you all doing?" he asked, his voice a rumbling rumble that shook the very foundations of the castle.
"We're fine, so drop us," Slade grumbled, his voice edged with annoyance.
Marco chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "You're still the arrogant kid from back then, huh?"
Chan simply grinned, enjoying the playful exchange.
"And to our new General," Marco declared, his gaze turning to General Jean.
He bent down, his hand reaching out to gently kiss her hand.
"Aren't you the pretty girl who was always on William's back? Can't believe you're a General now."
General Jean, still reeling from the unexpected honor of meeting the Supreme General in person, could only blush and stammer a thank you.
Marco, a towering figure of strength and authority, moved to the head of the table, his presence demanding respect and admiration.
"Now, let's start the meeting," the King announced, his voice firm yet reassuring.
As the Generals gathered around the table, they were served by the castle maids, who giggled and blushed under the scrutiny of General Chan's charming gaze, much to the annoyance of General Slade.
"Alright, for Avaloria, we won a rally against them this time," General Chan reported, his voice calm and measured.
"But according to my sources, they're still not revealing any grand plans. My spy informs me that they're training new soldiers."
General Jean added, "From my Intel, the Boogeyman was last seen in the Duskmire kingdom. He was involved in the assassination of General Kashin of Al Andalus."
A wave of shock swept through the hall. "What?" Generals exclaimed. "The Duskmire kingdom is getting stronger."
"For Riruk," General Slade reported, "it's still a war between the brothers. The Excalibur remains in its resting place, untouched."
"How about our barriers, son?" The King asked, turning to General Ezekiel.
Ezekiel reported, "I've expanded the barrier to include more of the kingdom. I've also detected some foreign presence within our borders."
The King said, his voice a low growl, "Spies." "Don't worry, I'll speak to the Silentvisk Family about this matter."
General Marco frowned, his gaze fixed on the King. "You still trust them, My Lord? You know they're planning something."
The King replied, "I know. But we need their help and connections. Until we can catch them, we'll use them to our advantage."
"For the Aethelred Kingdom," General Marco said, "I personally went there. They've erected a light barrier around all of their cities. They're not making a move, at least not yet. I even saw General Kimiko." Marco chuckled. "I just walked away. I didn't want to cause a scene."
Supreme General Marco stated, his voice heavy with concern, "My spies haven't contacted me. I assume they were discovered and killed by the curse we placed on them."
"Talking about soldiers," General Marco began, his voice booming through the hall, "how's the new generation shaping up?"
The King, his gaze softening with pride, replied, "Oh, Prince Ezra is growing stronger every day. He's a natural with fire magic, just like me."
General Chan, his blue hair shimmering in the light, took a sip of his tea, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I've heard there's a light user in your city, General Slade. A prodigy, they say."
General Slade, his features hardening slightly, puffed out his chest. "Yes, it's my nephew. A talented young man. He's a natural with light magic."
Chan chuckled, shaking his head. "Wow, kids these days. They're certainly proving to be a force to be reckoned with."
The conversation about the new generation of soldiers was abruptly interrupted by a servant.
"My Lord, I apologize for interrupting, but General William has arrived."
A hush fell over the room, shock evident on every face. General William, a figure once renowned for his kindness and charisma, now stood before them, a stark contrast to his former self: a one-armed man, his expression etched with a quiet stoicism.
General William bowed, his voice a low rumble, "Good day to you, Generals and Your Highness."
General Jean fought back tears. She could hardly believe the man she once knew, the fun-loving, strong General, was now missing his arm.
"Sit here, William, join us," the King gestured to an empty chair.
"William, long time no see," General Slade and General Chan greeted him, their voices tinged with a mix of concern and camaraderie. They were all of the same generation, their bonds forged in the fires of battle.
Williams chuckled, a warmth returning to his eyes as he returned their greetings. "You know I can make a hand for you," General Chan offered, his voice sincere.
"It's fine, thank you for your kindness, but I'm alright," William replied, his smile a little strained.
General Jean, unable to contain her emotions any longer, bowed her head. "General William," she murmured, her voice choked with emotion.
"Don't do that anymore, General Jean," William said, returning the bow, his eyes filled with warmth. "I'm no longer a General, you know."
General Marco, the Supreme General, simply nodded in greeting.
The King, his gaze steady and thoughtful, broke the silence. "I invited you here because you were once a General, William. We need your expertise."
The conversation continued, but Jean was silent, observing William, the change in him palpable. He still smiled, but it felt different, tinged with a sadness she couldn't ignore.
"William," the King said, "how would you like to be one of the heads of the Academy?"
"Of course, My King," William's voice held a firmness that spoke of a man embracing a new purpose.
The meeting concluded in the evening.
As William walked out of the castle, General Jean stopped him.
"How are you, Sir William?"
William smiled, his gaze meeting hers. "I'm fine, and please, drop the 'sir.' I'm no longer a General."
Jean's dam broke. She could no longer hold back her emotions. Tears streamed down her face as she confessed, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry I couldn't do anything back then. It's my fault."
The memories of the battle against General Daibou flooded back. Daibou had targeted Jean, and William had turned his back to protect her, sacrificing his own arm in the process.
"It's fine, Jean. It's part of war. I never blamed you, and I never will," William said, gently patting her back. "Besides, I have my job to teach the next generation."
"But you hated war," Jean said, her voice thick with confusion. "Why did you take this job? Why teach children to fight?"
William stood tall, his gaze fixed on the night sky, where a fierce wind whipped through the trees. "It's the King's order, Jean. And his orders are absolute."
Jean looked at him, a sense of relief washing over her. She knew this was true. But then she remembered something else.
"Anyway," she said, her voice laced with a hint of wistfulness, "you still didn't answer my confession back then."
"You told me I was confused, that I was still a child," Jean reminded him, her voice a whisper carried by the wind.
"But I still feel the same feelings for you. I still love you, William."
The wind, as if in sympathy, whipped her long, beautiful hair around her face, reflecting the moon's light, highlighting her beauty.
Silence stretched between them, the weight of unsaid words hanging heavy in the air.
Finally, William spoke. "I don't want to marry someone who is always in battle. That's the life of a General."
"That means, if I want to marry you, I have to leave the battlefield," Jean said, her voice trembling slightly.
"You know it's my dream to be a General!"
"That's why I never forced you,"
William said, his gaze meeting hers for a moment before turning away. He walked away, leaving Jean standing alone, her heart filled with a mixture of hope and despair. She was left with her confession unanswered, her future uncertain.
As the night sky enveloped the castle, a quiet stillness settled over the halls, where whispers of the day's revelations lingered. The Generals dispersed, each carrying their own burdens and hopes for the future.