Chapter 210 - The Army Rises

Chapter 210 - The Army Rises
Rhiannan POV

The third Trial was war.

Pure, vicious, beautifully organized fucking war. For three hours, Sasha transformed the battlefield every ten minutes. An icy wasteland became a volcanic ravine. The ravine became a jungle filled with choking vines and razor-edged leaves.

Then ruins. Swamps. A desert filled with buried traps.
A city under siege. Forty-five thousand warriors had entered Trial Three. Now I sat high above them on my reinforced crystal throne, belly tight enough to make me question several life decisions, watching them fight for their futures. Sasha's transparent shield surrounded the observation platform. Unfortunately, it didn't block sound. Steel screamed against steel. Spells detonated. War cries shook the arena.

FaeNet was having a fucking stroke.

@SwordBitchJules: HOLY FUCK SHE JUST CUT A DUDE IN HALF WITH A VINE WHIP. GO OFF DRYAD QUEEN.

@OrcDaddyThrust: 300 GOLD ON THE BALD MINOTAUR.

@PixieSnack87: WHERE IS MY GAY ELF SNIPER? IF HE DIES I RIOT.

Azarion rubbed my shoulders. Liam fed me chilled fruit. Elisha paced.

“Three hours,” I muttered. “Three godsdamned hours.”

“They're proving they're ready,” Kaleb answered through the communication crystal.

I knew. That didn't make watching easier. Then I spotted Thorne. “Oh, fuck.”

He ripped through an enemy formation with terrifying efficiency. Lerenya fought beside him, water magic carving through the battlefield while Masaila protected their flank. An ogre charged. Masaila screamed, slammed both hands into the earth, and launched a spear of vines straight through its chest.

Mela leaned closer. “That bitch is terrifying.”

“I know.”

“I love her.”

“I know.”

Mo's voice exploded through the FaeNet broadcast.

“AND THAT'S ANOTHER DOWN FOR TEAM FERAL! THEY ARE NOT HERE TO MAKE FRIENDS! THEY ARE HERE TO MURDER!”

Sasha immediately interrupted. “The opponents are simulated constructs. Murder remains discouraged.”

“BORING!”

I laughed. Then the battlefield shifted again. Nine minutes remained.
~

JAEVIN POV

My leg was fucked.

Every step sent pain straight through my hip, but stopping wasn't an option. Nine minutes. I could survive nine fucking minutes. A fireball came at my face. I ducked. Heat scorched over my head.

“Too slow!”

I rolled through thorns, came up on one knee, and drove my Ironwood blade directly into the glowing fracture running down the stone guardian's chest.

CRACK. The creature shattered. I collapsed against my sword. Eight minutes. Blood ran down my boot.My village flashed through my mind. My mother baking bread. My father complaining about his knees. My little sister sitting on the roof of our cottage, asking me whether Goddess Rhiannan really meant it when she said ordinary people deserved a future too.

I'd told her yes. Now I had to prove it. “I didn't come this far for a fucking title.” I forced myself upright.

“I came for you, Lissa.”

Another construct charged. I raised my sword. “Come on, then.”
~

DAELA POV

My staff cracked twenty minutes ago.

My magic should have run dry ten minutes after that.
Apparently spite was an alternative fuel source. Useful information. I dragged myself through black mud while the remains of four enemy constructs dissolved behind me. My hands trembled. Blood ran from my nose.

Everything fucking hurt. Then something moved behind me. I spun. A brute lunged. “Oh, fuck you.” I slammed my broken staff into the earth.

“GRAVEBLOOM!”

Roots exploded upward. The creature screamed as black flowers wrapped around its body and dragged it beneath the swamp. I stared at the bubbling mud.

“I survived the Bloodmire Plague.”

My legs nearly buckled. “I buried my entire fucking family.”

The countdown rune flashed. 00:01:37

I straightened. “You think I'm dying in a godsdamned job interview?” Not today.
~

Rhiannan POV

The final horn sounded. Everything stopped. Warriors collapsed. Some screamed. Some laughed. Others simply stared upward like they couldn't believe they'd made it.

Sasha's drones descended. I stood slowly. Azarion immediately reached for me. “I've got it.”

“You're shaking.”

“I've been watching forty-five thousand people nearly die for three hours. Let me shake.”

The results appeared. Sasha's voice rolled across the arena. “Out of forty-five thousand contestants who entered Trial Three…”

Silence. “Sixty-two have passed.”

Holy. Fuck. The arena detonated. Sixty-two. Thorne.
Lerenya. Masaila. Jaevin. Daela. Their names glowed among the others. Liam grabbed my shoulder. “All three.”

I grinned. “No shit. Those three are fucking monsters.”

Sasha continued. “From these sixty-two, one will rise as General. One will become Warden. Sixty will become officers across ten elite squads.”

FaeNet exploded. Memes appeared instantly. One featured Mo holding a banana like a sword. LET ME IN THE ARMY. I GOT POTASSIUM.

I laughed so hard I nearly pissed myself. Azarion helped me onto the center dais. I looked at the sixty-two warriors below. Bloody. Exhausted. Still standing.
“You did it.” My voice carried magically across the field. “You bled. You broke bones. You faced your worst fucking nightmares and kept moving.”

Several contestants raised their weapons. “You are the elite of Andopeer.”

The crowd roared. “Tonight, you feast.” Louder. “Tomorrow, you learn your ranks.”

Weapons slammed against shields. “And in two days, the Noble Trials begin.”

Absolute fucking insanity. I smiled at the nearest FaeNet crystal. “Rest well. Fight harder. Your strength builds our kingdom.”

I winked. FaeNet died. Again. Then something tightened low in my belly and my smile vanished. “Fuck.”

Kaelith appeared beside me. Sereth followed. Then Brimma. I hated how quickly they moved. “You're not going into labor, are you?” Mo asked.

“No.” Another cramp. “Probably.”

Everyone stared.

“Maybe?”

Azarion's face went pale.

“I DON'T FUCKING KNOW.”

That was apparently the wrong answer. I was immediately kidnapped by my own household.

LATER

“False labor,” Kaelith assured me. I collapsed backward against my pillows. “Oh, thank fuck.”

“But close.”

I stopped celebrating. “How close?”

“A week at most.” Sereth looked up from her Book of Fate. “Possibly days.”

“Fuck.”

Brimma snorted. “Don't sneeze too hard.”

I threw a pillow at her. Azarion scooped me up. “Bath.”

“I can walk.”

“No.”

Soon I was lowered into steaming rose-scented water while Elisha massaged my shoulders and Liam fed me grapes. “You're radiant,” Liam whispered. I glared.

“Finish that sentence and drown.”

He kissed my forehead. “Terrifyingly radiant.” Better.
Outside, the castle celebrated. The sixty-two finalists were being honored in the feast hall. And apparently fate wasn't finished fucking with us. Because later, Sasha sent me footage. Bruxxa stood at one end of the feast table. Across from her stood an enormous half-orc warrior.

Scarred face. Crooked tusks. Moss-green eyes. They stared at each other. Then both sniffed. I sat upright in the bath. “No fucking way.”

Reyna jumped up in the footage. “YOU'RE MATES!”

Bruxxa's hand went straight to her dagger. Of course it did. “I've been hurt,” she growled.

The orc immediately placed his weapon on the table.
“Then I'll earn your trust.”

Bruxxa froze.

“However long it takes.”

Reyna practically vibrated.

“NAME?”

He bowed.

“Grogg Bloodbellow.”

Bruxxa studied him. “Don't expect me to swoon.”

Grogg smiled. “I wouldn't dare.”

“I bite.”

His grin widened, revealing sharp canines. “So do I.”
The feast hall fucking erupted. FaeNet followed.

I slowly sank deeper into my bath. Trial Three complete. Sixty-two elite warriors chosen. My babies apparently preparing their escape. And Bruxxa had found her mate. I grabbed another grape. “Okay.”

Elisha raised an eyebrow. “Okay what?”

I chewed thoughtfully. “Maybe this kingdom really is going to fucking make it.”

The next morning....

Morning arrived entirely too fucking early.

After a night of food, alcohol, music, screaming, mate discoveries, and enough questionable decisions to keep Sasha's incident reports interesting for weeks, the castle somehow woke with the sun. I had barely slept. Neither had the council.

There were sixty-two names to review. Ranks to decide. Squads to organize. Responsibilities to assign.
And approximately nine thousand arguments about who belonged where.

But we'd done it. Our army had leaders.

I stood on the highest balcony of Dragon Castle with one hand beneath my enormous belly and Azarion's hand resting firmly on my hip. The entire courtyard below was packed. Soldiers filled the barracks balconies. Villagers crowded the roads beyond the gates. Floating FaeNet crystals hovered everywhere.

Sasha appeared above us in radiant humanoid form, golden circuitry pulsing beneath her skin. “FaeNet broadcast active,” she announced.

I exhaled. “Fuck it. Let's do this.”

Azarion kissed my temple. I stepped forward. “My people.” My magically amplified voice rolled across the courtyard. Silence fell. “After three days of blood, grit, sacrifice, questionable life choices, and some truly fucking terrifying displays of violence…”

Someone cheered. I laughed. “…we have our army.”

The kingdom fucking erupted. I waited until the screaming softened. “Our new General…” I glanced toward the line of finalists. “…will be Thorne.”

Absolute chaos. Thorne stood beside his mates, shirtless because apparently shirts had become optional after becoming an ancient vampire sex symbol. He stared at me. Then slowly raised one eyebrow. I grinned. “Yeah, bitch. You.”

Liam screamed louder than anyone. Thorne finally stepped forward.

“Our General is ancient, terrifying, fiercely loyal, and apparently capable of making half of FaeNet sexually confused simply by looking at a camera.”

FaeNet comments exploded.

GENERAL VAMP DADDY.

WE ARE SO FUCKING SAFE.

WHY IS HE SHIRTLESS???

DON'T QUESTION BLESSINGS.

Thorne bowed his head. Beside him, Lerenya looked ready to explode with pride. Masaila looked ready to kill anyone who disagreed. Perfect.

“Our Warden and second in command…”

Masaila's head snapped toward me.

“…Masaila.”

The roar somehow got louder.

“The feral dryad who beat one of my magical tests to death with another magical test.”

Masaila smiled. “That was efficient.”

Sasha's voice floated overhead. “It was deeply irritating.”

I pointed toward Sasha. “See? Leadership material.”

Masaila stepped beside Thorne, one hand on her axe and the other wrapping possessively around his waist.

“And finally, we created a new position.”

Lerenya blinked.

“Officer Master. Third in command. The binding force between our officers and senior leadership.”

Her eyes widened.

“Lerenya.”

She actually squeaked. Then recovered immediately and blew a kiss toward the crowd. Naturally.

“She anchored two terrifying ancient assholes,” I continued. “Managing sixty officers should be easy.”

Thorne looked offended. Masaila looked proud. Lerenya laughed. “Challenge accepted.”

I turned toward the remaining finalists. “Now our officers.”

Golden names began appearing above the courtyard as Sasha divided them into their commands.

Ten Battle Captains.

Dravik Stormbreaker. Nyelva Ironroot. Kaen Bloodhowl. Sirena Wraithwind. Jaxar Hollowvein. Thalia Direthorn. Brunnak Sandclash. Vireya Dawnspark. Halric Stonebrand. Keera Moonbriar.

The frontline warriors raised their weapons.

Ten Spellcasters followed, including Vaelor Umbracrest, Myndira Spellshade, Tenzen Pyrelock, Ivria Glimmergrove, Rhazek Bonechant, Lyssa Starwell, Edrion Voidflare, Callix Emberline, Ziraen Thorncloak, and Fauren Mistquill.

Magic erupted above them. Then our ten Healer Commanders. Ten Tacticians. Ten Scout Commanders. And finally ten Quartermasters.

Sixty officers. Ten squads. Each squad would have frontline command, magical support, healing leadership, strategy, reconnaissance, and logistics.
Because armies weren't built from swords alone.
Someone had to feed the idiots holding them. Sasha had taught me that.

“Each officer receives private quarters within their assigned barracks section,” Sasha announced. “Enhanced food allotments, command privileges, additional training resources, weekly massage tokens, and monthly gold bonuses.”

A roar came from the officers. I turned toward Sasha.
“Massage tokens got the biggest reaction.”

“Warriors are statistically enthusiastic about massage.”

“Same.”

Azarion squeezed my hip. I ignored him. Sasha continued. “Tomorrow morning, formal squad integration begins. Failure to arrive on time will result in disciplinary action.”

Mo's voice suddenly blasted through one of the FaeNet crystals. “WHAT IF I'M LATE?”

“You are not in the army.”

“DISCRIMINATION!”

“You are on the Royal Council.”

“EVEN WORSE!”

The courtyard dissolved into laughter. I rested both hands over my belly. My babies shifted beneath my palms. Three days ago, half a million people had stepped forward. They'd come from farms and forests. Mines. Brothels. Temples. Ruined villages.
Forgotten clans. Some had wanted glory. Some wanted purpose. Some simply wanted somewhere to belong. Now we had an army. Not one built through forced service or inherited from corrupt lords.

They had chosen us.

And we'd chosen them.