Chapter 516: Chapter 516

The Phoenix Legion arrived at Azul at dawn, its banners still wet with sea spray. King Aragon and Prince Vaskar where waiting for them on a temporary camp beside the shoreline.

Their silhouettes were against the low sun, waiting like sentinels for their allies. Percival, Netser, along with the ladies Shaya, Lazira, Aryana, Veronica, and Marjan, who were members of the medical team, arrived with the contingent from the capital.

Azul had been transformed into the nerve center of Estalis’s defenses. The harbor, normally a humming artery of trade, now thrummed with war-readiness: war galleys creaked at their moorings, maps and signal flags colored the command tents, and men shouted curt orders while carpenters hammered reinforcements into place.

On the area lined by palms just beside the shoreline, wooden barracks were constructed hastily to serve as temporary dwellings for the soldiers who arrived to defend Estalis’ eastern coast. Tents were also pitched for the others that the barracks could not accommodate.

For the next two days Lara had not left the camp — she had spent every waking hour teaching her brothers the subtleties of fighting at sea: how to read the tides, where hidden currents betrayed an approaching fleet, and which maneuvers could turn a ship from prey into predator.

"How did you learn all this, Lara?" Galahad asked, reaching out to ruffle his sister’s hair; the motion was teasing, but his eyes were earnest.

Lara smiled without stopping her demonstration. "When I was in Ourea," she replied. "There are many rivers there. Master Jetrhu taught me how water moves and how ships must move with it."

"As I thought — my sister is the best," Asael said, puffing with pride.

While Lara drilled her brothers and other commanders in boarding tactics and sail work, Prince Alaric, King Aragon, and Prince Vaskar bent over a spread of charts beneath a canvas awning. They traced coastlines with gloved fingers, marking choke points and lighthouse beacons with charcoal.

"They have the advantage at sea," King Aragon said, voice low and steady. "We cannot meet them on their terms. We must draw them ashore."

General Marcus, a veteran of skirmishes with coastal raiders, frowned. "And if they refuse? If they simply circle and wait us out, we could be trapped in a stalemate."

Prince Alaric’s gaze flicked from the maps to the harbor beyond. "Then we go on the offensive," he said. "Their blockade will strangle Estalis economy. Fishermen will be kept from the nets; merchants will be denied harbor. Our ports are the kingdom’s heartbeat — cut it, and the city will feel it."

Vaskar’s voice sharpened, the urgency of command coming through. "Two days of blockade and the markets go bare. Our people will go hungry especially the fishermen." Nᴇw novel chapters are publɪshed on 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭•𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦•𝘯𝘦𝘵

Around them, the harbor answered: a bell tolled, a sailor shouted, and the tide slipped against the quay as if to underscore the trio’s decision. The conversation ended not with a plan fully formed but with a resolve that spread like ink across the map — they would not wait for the sea to decide their fate.

King Aragon leaned back from the map table, the sound of gulls filling the tense silence that followed. The air inside the command tent smelled of parchment, salt, and sweat — the scent of decisions that would decide the fate of Estalis.

"We need to split our soldiers into three groups. Our scouts sent urgent message that the fleet, had split. One group is heading toward Lavista, the second one toward Azul and another one to Zaraga." Prince Alaric said with pursed lips. "They seemed to be attacking the major seaports of Estalis at the same time."

"Then we be ready," King Aragon said at last. "We will not let the Zurans dictate the field. If they want the sea, they shall have it — but on our terms."

General Marcus nodded grimly. "The second fleet sails under Admiral Salum, a cunning and ruthless man, but predictable. He likes to corner his prey, drive them against cliffs or sandbars. If we study the currents north of Azul, there are reefs hidden there, sharp as teeth. We could turn those against him."

Prince Vaskar’s eyes brightened. "A trap, then. We feign retreat toward the reefs, draw them into pursuit, and once they are caught in shallow waters—"

"—our fire ships strike," Alaric finished. He traced the outline of the bay on the map, where two rocky peninsulas narrowed into a bottleneck. "We’ll use old merchant vessels loaded with pitch, oil, and powder. When they in, we light the harbor."

The idea hung in the air like the spark before a flame.

King Aragon tapped his chin. "And our defenses on land?"

"We fortify the cliffs and shore batteries," General Abner interjected. He was older than the rest — full-bearded, with a voice like iron dragged across stone. "If the Zurans attempt to land troops, we’ll have archers and ballistae ready. The rocks themselves will fight for us."

Lara, who had slipped into the tent unnoticed, stepped forward. "You’ll need signal coordination between the naval and ground forces. A delay of even a minute could cost us the battle. If I command the coastal watch, I can ensure the timing aligns — our ships strike as our archers loose."

Prince Alaric smiled faintly. "You’ve thought this through, haven’t you?"

"I’ve seen the rivers of Ourea flood entire plains because one man misjudged the current," Lara replied. "Timing is victory."

A murmur of approval passed among the gathered officers. General Abner wanted to protest, but he remembered how Lara fought in the Battle of Carles, and the words were stuck in his throat.

Vaskar reached for his quill and began marking routes across the parchment. "Then here’s our structure: Marcus commands the outer fleet — he’ll make first contact. Abner leads the shore batteries. Lara oversees coordination between both fronts. Asael, you and I will lead the strike force at the bottleneck."

"And what about the rest?" Aragon asked.

"Aren’t we going to send soldiers to Zaraga and Lavista?" Vaskar replied with a question. "We will also keep a small reserve in Azul," Vaskar answered. "If the first assault fails, they’ll protect the harbor and the people."

For a long moment, no one spoke. The sound of waves crashing against the docks echoed through the canvas walls like the steady beat of a drum.

At last, Aragon rose, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "Then it’s settled. Prepare the fleet and the army. Tonight, we rest. Tomorrow — Estalis answers the sea."

Outside, the wind shifted, carrying the tang of the ocean and the far-off cry of horns from the sentries. The Zurans were out there, somewhere beyond the horizon — and by dawn, both nations would be racing the tide toward destiny.