Boundless Evolution: The Summoning Beast
Chapter 42: A Kingdom on the Brink

Chapter 42: A Kingdom on the Brink

"A DRAGON?!"

The word crashed through the chamber like a thunderclap. King Alden’s fingers dug into the armrests of his throne, his knuckles turning white.

Around the war table in the royal palace, the most important figures exchanged uneasy glances, their postures stiff with tension.

"Yes, Your Majesty," Callen confirmed, his voice grim, "It has been confirmed by the head scribe of Dawnbreak Keep. We don’t know how, but Zavareth has managed to break the natural law of summoning as we understand it."

At this the room fell into a heavy silence that was only periodically broken by the heavy breaths of King Alden and the generals.

"Commander, we must realise that if they can do this once, the chances of them being able to do this again are more than likely," a general muttered, his boots clicking against the polished floor, "And we have no means of countering it..."

At this, King Alden let out an audible sigh as his thoughts drifted momentarily.

"This war should have never begun," he muttered, "Zavareth was unstable, but now it’s led by a ruler who has an unchecked ambition..."

"What of the survivors?" he refocused as he looked at the head scribe.

"Only a handful made it back, Your Majesty," Callen admitted, his jaw tightening, "A few scribes, a few soldiers and two summons. The rest were all lost or unheard from when the stronghold fell."

The King exhaled slowly, his fingers steepling beneath his chin, "I presume Commander Darius was also left behind."

Callen hesitated, but there was no point in softening the truth, "I am afraid so. He stayed behind to stop the dragon’s advance but knowing him being a B+ rank Warlord Beastbinder, I am afraid that I can only presume that he is dead."

A murmur rippled through the gathered generals as they once again were reminded of the fact that Darius, a B+ rank soldier, had stayed back to fight a dragon whose lowest rank started from A+ rank.

It was never a battle that he would have been able to win from the beginning. It was akin to a veteran knight facing a god of destruction. The result had been inevitable, but his sacrifice had bought Eldoria some time as it slowed the advance of the forces of Zavareth. Yet, the reality of his death weighed more on them than the time he had bought.

"We should never have sent him to the stronghold from the beginning..." another general spoke wistfully, "His death is a massive blow to us and a great morale boost to Zavareth’s army."

A heavy silence followed, settling over the war table like a suffocating shroud.

"What course of action do you propose, Your Majesty?" Callen asked, his tone even.

"Our immediate concern is to reinforce the remaining strongholds in the Silver Mountains Region," Aldren said, his fingers drumming against the table.

"Agreed, Your Majesty," Callen’s voice joined in as his hands pointed to the West side of the map which was spread out on the table, "Zavareth has pushed hard against our western border."

Callen’s finger now moved, hovering over the mountain pass. "Titan’s Gate is all that stands between them and the heartlands."

His voice darkened, "Ironwatch Keep is intact for now, but if they take the surrounding valleys, it’s as good as lost. And Stormrend Fortress..."

He hesitated, pressing his lips into a thin line.

"Already under siege," a general muttered, "And if it falls—"

"—the road to Riverward Bastion opens," Alden finished grimly, "And after that, nothing stands between them and Whitehold."

One of the generals let out a slow breath, his fingers tightening around the war table’s edge, "Then it won’t be enough to send just reinforcements—we need to send them with a specific strategy in mind. We cannot spread our forces too thin, or we risk losing every front at once."

Another general nodded, "If we lose Titan’s Gate, it won’t matter what else we reinforce. That fortress is our key foothold in the mountains, and without it, Zavareth will flood into our lowlands."

"We are no longer just fighting Zavareth," Alden murmured, his gaze dark, "We are fighting the unknown. First, a general and his entire personal unit vanish without a trace, their fate unknown. Then, a dragon appears—an impossibility that should never have existed. If that was a warning, then what comes next may be our reckoning. And if we do not act quickly, we will be fighting from within our own walls, against enemies we do not yet see."

Callen straightened, his eyes sharp with determination, "Then we must adequately prepare for that. We need to investigate Dawnbreak Keep’s collapse further. If there’s a traitor among us, we cannot allow them to remain hidden."

Alden nodded slowly, his fingers steepled beneath his chin, "Agreed. We will assign trusted scouts and spies to trace the missing officers and uncover any Zavareth influence within our ranks. If Eldoria is compromised, we will cut out the rot before it spreads."

Silence stretched between them, heavy with the weight of unspoken fears. Then, slowly, the King stood.

"Then it’s settled," Alden said, exhaling deeply, "Titan’s Gate and Riverward Bastion will be reinforced immediately. Frostguard Hold will receive a contingent of mobile cavalry to harass advancing forces, and supply lines to Stormrend Fortress will be secured at all costs. If Zavareth believes they can march unchallenged into Eldoria, they will find themselves sorely mistaken."

He let his gaze sweep across the war table, meeting the eyes of each commander, each officer, "Do we all stand by this decision?"

A brief silence followed, heavy with the weight of the moment. Then, one by one, the generals gave firm nods. Some voiced their approval aloud, their tones resolute, while others pounded a fist lightly against their chests in solemn agreement. The tension that had lingered moments before began to shift—still heavy, but now laced with determination.

Alden gave a slow nod, satisfied.

Callen gave a firm nod as well, "I’ll see to it that the orders are dispatched at once, Your Majesty."

Alden’s gaze lingered on the war table, his eyes dark with contemplation, "This is only the beginning, Callen. But at least we now have a direction."

He let the silence settle for a moment, allowing the weight of their decisions to sink in before shifting his tone, "This council is dismissed. We have more pressing matters to deal with rather than to hear this old man talk. Callen, stay."

As the last of the generals and advisors exited the chamber, the once-heavy tension lifted, leaving behind a quiet sense of exhaustion. The rhythmic clatter of boots against polished marble faded, giving way to the distant hum of life outside the palace walls.

Candlelight flickered in the dimly lit room, casting elongated shadows that stretched across the war table, now an island of strategy amid the vast sea of uncertainty.

The grand hall, which moments ago had been filled with heated voices and the weight of war, now settled into an eerie stillness—one that demanded reflection more than reaction.

Alden sighed, rubbing his temple before speaking. His gaze drifted toward the war table, but his mind was elsewhere. For a long moment, neither of them spoke, yet they both knew where their thoughts lingered.

"Darius..." Alden’s voice wavered. He swallowed, his throat tight, "It wasn’t his time."

His gaze flickered toward the empty chair at the war table—the one Darius had always occupied. For a moment, he could almost see him there, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips as he listened.

"I can still hear his voice," Alden whispered, "Still see the way he stood tall among his men. He was always the first into battle, the last to leave."

A sharp exhale. A bitter shake of his head.

"And now he’s gone."

Callen’s grip tightened against the table, his usual composure faltering, "The men followed him not because they had to, but because they believed in him. He saw something in all of us. And yet, when he needed us the most, we left him to die."

Alden inhaled sharply, rubbing his temple, "His death will not be in vain. But gods help me, Callen—I am beginning to wonder if I sent him to his grave for nothing."

Alden nodded, his gaze dark, "We did not just lose a commander. We lost one of our closest friends. And yet, the war does not stop for grief."

Callen exhaled sharply, "No, it does not."

A moment of silence stretched between them, both men weighed down by the cost of their decisions. Alden finally straightened, inhaling slowly before his gaze locked onto Callen once more.

"Tell me honestly, Callen—do you believe we can trust the men we surround ourselves with?"

He let the question linger, his gaze sharp, searching for the unspoken doubts that even Callen might hesitate to voice.

He let out a slow breath, his gaze distant, "We need clarity, Callen. The council debates strategy, but the deeper truths remain unspoken. This war is no longer just about land or power—it is about survival."

Callen straightened, "Then we must root out the truth now, Your Majesty. The disappearance of Dawnbreak’s leadership, the sudden offensive, the precision of their movements—this was no coincidence. And if it was orchestrated, someone within our ranks may have known about it."

Alden’s expression hardened, "The thought has crossed my mind as well. We may not only be fighting Zavareth, Callen. We may be fighting enemies within our own halls. A traitor among the kingdom’s powerful figures is not unthinkable. How else could they have struck with such precision?"

Callen hesitated, then nodded, "If this is true, we must tread carefully. If we start rooting out corruption openly, we may push hidden threats further into the shadows. But we cannot sit idly either."

Alden tapped the table, "Which is why we must act cautiously. I want you to start investigating—quietly. Identify anyone who had access to Dawnbreak Keep’s defense reports, troop movements, and supply routes in the weeks leading to its fall. Cross-reference that with anyone who left the capital or disappeared without proper notice."

Callen gave a slow nod, "And what of the spy we placed in Zavareth? He was supposed to report back soon. If he has uncovered anything about Zavareth’s true objectives, his information could be crucial."

Alden’s fingers drummed against the table—once, twice—then stopped. He exhaled, slowly, "If he is still alive, we need that report now more than ever."

A beat of silence. The candlelight flickered.

"Is there a chance that has turned against us?" Callen asked.

"I doubt it. He has been under my family’s care is devoutly loyal to us. But..." Alden’s gaze darkened, "Should that be the case, we will deal with him before he deals with us."

Callen’s jaw tightened, "Understood, Your Majesty. I will have the military ready to move upon order immediately."

Alden exhaled, his gaze locked on the flickering candlelight, "I hope he does send news back soon."

A moment of silence stretched between them, both men weighed down by the cost of their decisions.