When Aquila woke, the space beside her was empty. She rubbed her eyes gently and pushed herself upright, the faint chill of morning brushing her skin.
Did she leave already?
Turning her head, she noticed a small table near the bed—a piece of bread and a steaming cup of tea waiting for her.
A smile curved slowly across her lips.
How sweet.
She dressed in the clothes Zuleika had lent her—warm and practical for the winter air, and loose enough for movement in case battle returned. Once ready, she sat back down, sipping the tea and nibbling the bread with unhurried care.
When she finished, she stepped outside the tent, greeted at once by the cold wind carrying a faint tang of seawater.
Her gaze swept over the camp—rows of tents, some half-open, where injured knights lay bandaged and groaning. Others trained despite the exhaustion etched into their faces.
War… it truly is cruel when greed takes hold of men's hearts.
She sighed and walked on, her boots crunching softly against the scarred ground of Nexus, a town once lively and full of color, now reduced to a staging ground for survival.
Then she saw it—dark turquoise hair catching the morning light.
Zuleika.
Aquila had meant to call out, but stopped short when she saw her. Zuleika's face was calm yet determined, her hands steady as she helped the medics tend to wounded knights, wiping blood away, pressing bandages with care.
She really is something… caring so deeply, so fiercely, for her people.
Before Aquila could even call Zuleika's name, a sharp horn split the air from the Nexus walls.
"THE TARTAGALIAN FLEETS ARE MOVING!" a knight on guard bellowed.
The camp erupted into chaos. Knights scrambled for their shields and swords, their boots pounding against the frozen ground as commanders barked orders.
"MOVE! MOVE! THROUGH THE GATES, NOW!"
"DEFEND THE WALLS WITH YOUR LIVES!"
The roar of Nexus soldiers shook the battered streets like a war drum.
Aquila's hands curled into fists at her sides, her heart hammering with a restless ache. She turned instinctively toward where Zuleika had been—but she was gone.
Without thinking, Aquila hurried toward the largest tent, where she knew Stella would be. Inside, she found Zuleika already fastening her light armor, streaks of blood still marking her cheek from the medics she had helped earlier.
"Listen, Lei," Stella said, her tone brisk, eyes on the parchment in her hand. "You don't need to rush the front lines. Guide the knights, keep formation. I'll join you once I've spoken with Sir Baton."
"Got it," Zuleika replied, then turned—and froze when her eyes landed on Aquila.
"…Aquila."
Her lips formed the name as though it were both a relief and a weight. She crossed the space quickly, and together, they stepped out into the cold air.
"Are you going to the front lines?" Aquila asked, her voice low but steady.
"I am," Zuleika answered without hesitation. "I can't let my knights fight without me."
Aquila exhaled sharply, worry pressing against her chest like armor too tight to bear. She knew she couldn't stop her—not Zuleika, not when her resolve burned so fiercely.
"I understand," Aquila murmured at last, silver eyes softening. "Just… come back alive, okay?"
Zuleika's smile was careful, but it held the kind of strength Aquila had come to know too well. "I will."
With that, she turned and strode toward the gates, her turquoise hair catching in the wind like a banner of defiance.
Aquila stood rooted, watching her until the press of soldiers swallowed her form. Slowly, she lifted her gaze to the looming walls.
"…I can still support them," she whispered to herself, resolve hardening. Then, with long strides, she made her way to the ramparts where the Nexus archers were already lining up, their bows poised toward the horizon.
Outside the walls, the ocean writhed with sails and iron—hundreds of Tartagalian ships, dark and endless as the horizon itself.
The Nexus knights who stood on the front lines felt their courage falter; shields dipped, whispers of dread rippled through the ranks.
Zuleika pushed through the formation, her light armor glinting under the gray skies. She stopped before them, lips curling into a nervous smile.
"Seriously…" she muttered, loud enough for those near her to hear. "Do they ever run out of boats? What, did Tartagalia invite their grandmothers and pet chickens along for this trip too?"
A few chuckles escaped the lines, easing the heavy silence.
She planted her sword into the ground and turned, voice rising above the sea breeze.
"Listen up! I know what you're thinking—'That's too many ships! Too many enemies!' But you know what I'm thinking?" She paused dramatically, grinning.
"That it just saves us the trouble of hunting them down one by one later!"
Laughter rippled louder this time. The weight on the men's shoulders eased, even just slightly.
Zuleika smirked and leaned on her sword. "Besides… we're Nexus. We've been through worse! Remember the time half of you thought you could drink Sir Argus under the table? That was way scarier than this, and yet you survived!"
A roar of laughter broke out, even Sir Argus from the rear yelling, "HEY!" which only made the soldiers laugh harder.
Zuleika raised her sword high, her tone shifting—still playful, but burning with conviction.
"So let them come with their hundred ships! We'll send them back to the sea with their tails between their legs! Fight for Nexus, fight for your brothers, fight for every laugh we'll share when this war is nothing but a story!"
The knights roared with her, the earlier gloom replaced by a fiery spark.
Zuleika turned back to the horizon, her smile softening just for herself.
Yeah… let's give them hell.
The first Tartagalian ship didn't even try to dock. Instead, its cannons boomed, followed by another and another, until the sea itself seemed to vomit fire and iron.
A storm of cannonballs arced across the gray sky, aimed to tear Nexus apart before the enemy's boots even touched the sand.
"Bastards," Zuleika hissed under her breath, her grip tightening on her sword. She stepped forward, past the line of trembling shields.
"Your Highness!" one knight called in panic, but she didn't stop.
Zuleika closed her eyes. And then—
The sea answered her.
It wasn't the roar of waves she heard, but a rhythm, a pulse older than kingdoms and wars. The salt wind tangled in her dark turquoise hair as if whispering secrets only she could understand. Beneath her boots, the sand trembled faintly, alive with the tide's ancient heartbeat.
When the first cannonball screamed closer, Zuleika raised her hand.
It didn't form a wall or a barrier. Instead, the very air shimmered like sunlight on water. The sea's breath wove itself into invisible threads that touched each cannonball mid-flight—unraveling them, cracking them open. One by one, the fireballs blossomed into bursts of harmless sparks, exploding in the sky like broken stars before ever touching the shore.
A hush fell. Then came the roar of Nexus cheers, louder than the Tartagalian cannons.
On the walls above, Aquila stood frozen.
Her silver eyes widened as the shimmer of Zuleika's power reflected in them. For a heartbeat, it was as though the battlefield had transformed into a dreamscape—the chaos of war wrapped in the beauty of something divine.
How beautiful… Aquila thought, her chest tightening, unable to tear her gaze away.
The Tartagalian commander, face full of scars, ordered to stop firing cannons.
"Focus on landing! That careless princess… she's still alive. Ugh!" he spat, gripping the spear at his side.
"Oh well… I'll just kill her myself," he said proudly.
One fleet stopped firing. Then two. Then three. Soon, Tartagalian men poured down, charging through the sand.
"NEXUS, EMBRACE! WHO ARE WE!?" Zuleika shouted, raising her sword high.
"THE GUARDIANS OF THE SEA!" the knights roared back, their voices shaking the ground.
"WHY DO WE FIGHT!?"
"TO PROTECT WHAT IS OURS!!"
"And WHAT DO WE GIVE TO THOSE WHO TRESPASS OUR LANDS?!"
"DROWN THEM TO THE SEA!"
Zuleika swung her blade forward.
"NEXUS, CHARGE!!"
With a deafening warcry, the knights rushed down. Steel clashed with steel, shields bashed against shields, and the sand turned red as Nexus and Tartagalia collided like two crashing waves.