Her Graceful War Song

Mount Chimera had no name before Rafael claimed it. He chose the name because the mountain's shape resembled a chimera's crouching form. Also, once he had taken control, it became a place of no return for any enemy foolish enough to try their luck.

Not only was it hard to approach, even delivering supplies was a nearly impossible task. So, the Southern Frontier Army had to rely on the dried meat they carried with them. And when they were thirsty, they boiled snow to melt it into drinking water.

The advantage of the location was clear: three sides of the mountain were surrounded by sheer cliffs, making it impossible for anyone to scout from above.

Their position had a natural barrier, so even if they lit a fire, it wouldn't be seen. Still, they couldn't take the risk and build large fires to keep warm. So, the hardest part wasn't hunger but the bone-chilling cold at night. Luckily, the sun shone during the day, so they didn't have to endure the cold for a full 24 hours a day.

A deputy general, Willard Carter, walked over to Rafael and said, "Marshal Sanford, it's nightfall. You should drink some water and rest."

Willard had brought over a cup of water. Freshly melted from snow, its warmth was enough to stir the soul.

Rafael leaned back against a large tree, pulling off his gloves. He accepted the cup but didn't drink right away, choosing instead to warm his fingers before taking the first sip.

"There should be enough stones," he muttered, his voice rough from the chill. "But just to be safe, we'll dig and move more tomorrow."

"Yes, sir!" Willard answered promptly.

Rafael sat down, taking slow sips from the cup. His face was covered in dirt, his beard tangled and matted. When he took off his helmet, his hair hung in messy strands. He took a few more sips, then shakily pulled out a piece of dried meat, gnawing on it slowly.

With the rations running low, they could only afford to eat a couple of pieces a day. When hunger struck, they either ate snow or waited until they could boil it down into water for some warmth.

"Marshal Sanford, when do you think Marshal Crow will make his move?" Willard asked.

Rafael swallowed the dried meat with difficulty, feeling some pain in his stomach.

He quickly drank some water to dull the pain before replying, "It'll be within two days. He can't wait much longer."

"Maybe not so quickly," Willard countered. "He'll probably send scouts first. After all, our forces are scattered. Won't he suspect a trap?"

Willard thought their plan wasn't too complicated. If Victor was more cautious, he might not fall for it. Rafael grinned. "Like I said, he can't afford to wait. He has no other choice."

Sure enough, two days later, Victor led his main army toward the foggy mountain pass, launching his attack.

Louis' troops were no match for the advancing Sandorian army. When they charged in, Louis and his troops fled in a hurry, not even attempting to put up a fight.

Although Victor was desperate,

seeing the situation made him think they might be walking into a trap. However he noticed the Southern Frontier Army hadn't taken the grain with them, having left it all in a flat area in the mountain pass. He even checked himself; it was definitely food.

He considered that the Southern Frontier Army had already been ambushed once, and their main force was scattered. So, it made sense that the remaining soldiers would be too fearful to confront them.

On the other hand, the Sandorian

soldiers were ecstatic. The sight of the grain sent them into a frenzy, and they immediately began dancing with joy. Some even

grabbed handfuls of grain and net

shoved it into their mouths, savoring the sweet crunch and the rich, earthy flavor that made it feel like the finest delicacy in the world.

The cheers of the soldiers filled the air as they reveled in their good fortune. The pile of grain, though not plentiful, was enough to feed them once

for a few days. If they ate only!

a day, they could stretch it for nearly a week. By then, they could take advantage of the Southern Frontier Army being stuck there and storm Simonton City.

Their excitement drowned out any sense of looming danger, erasing the cool-headedness that had once been Victor's trademark. As they set up large cooking pots, ready to prepare their meal, the rumble of rolling stones reached their ears.

Many of the soldiers looked up, but the sight that met their eyes was one of smoke and dust as something heavy came crashing down from above.

"Run! It's an ambush!" someone screamed, but the shout was swallowed by the deafening roar of falling rocks.

It was a deadly storm of boulders. Those who failed to flee in time were crushed, their bodies scattered and shattered by the relentless onslaught.

A jolt of panic shot through Victor. He scrambled to mount his horse, drawing his sword with a roar. "Take the grain! Retreat, now!"

The soldiers of Starhaven were so cunning. They had used the grain as bait!

Victor was the first to retreat, but the ground beneath him trembled as the sound of pounding hooves and marching feet grew louder, coming from all directions. His eyes widened and his mind went blank. Thenoveldrama

hand holding his sword slowly lowered as a realization hit him.

This black mountain, covered fully in snow, would mark his end.