At Seven Crossings Fortress, in the Lion Kingdom's army camp outside the city.
"All the Mounted Scouts we sent out have vanished without a word. Doesn't that tell you something? We must send troops to support Long River Town, Your Majesty. If you won't help, then I have no choice but to go back myself!"
The roar seemed loud enough to rip the tent apart. Inside, more than a dozen nobles wore expressions ranging from concern to cold amusement and outright delight at another's misfortune as they watched Duke Arama standing in the center.
Aralama had every reason to be anxious. As early as a week ago, scattered reports had arrived claiming that countless long-eared monsters had suddenly poured out of the forest and surrounded Long River Town. Even the messengers Lord Forschel sent out had been killed in the wilderness.
Aralama, who was nearly fifty, had wanted to take his troops back immediately, but Ulric had refused, arguing that a major battle was imminent and that these could well be rumors spread by the enemy.
Of course, they had still sent several groups of Mounted Scouts to Long River Town to verify the reports. Now a week had passed, and not only had no news returned, but the scouts themselves had disappeared.
King Ulric sat in the center of the command tent, his brow deeply furrowed. Watching his friend's rapid breathing, wide eyes, and even his trembling brown beard, he chose to remain silent.
Aralama had always been Ulric's staunch supporter. As both king and friend, Ulric had no desire to see Long River Town plundered by Elves, either. That would weaken the kingdom.
But compared with a round of Elven plundering, he considered confronting the Baccus Empire more important. The Elves generally burned, killed, and looted for revenge,