The night sky above Fort Faar—the first Livasol stronghold captured—was adorned with glittering stars. A bonfire blazed in the center of the fortress' main square, warming the Korasium soldiers who sat in circles. Some laughed, others sat in reflective silence. Tonight marked the celebration of their first victory. After a full day of fierce battle, the Korasium banner now flew proudly atop the watchtower of Fort Faar.
The scent of roasted meat and fresh bread filled the air. Simple instruments played cheerful tunes as cheers of triumph echoed. Yet inside the main command tent, the atmosphere was starkly different.
General Yuvan stood over the strategy table, his brow furrowed as he studied the map of Livasol's territory. Around him stood the five main lieutenants: Darvos, Kirel, Selga, Harven, and Rubeck. The joyous noise outside couldn't pierce through the tension inside.
"I can't find peace in this," Yuvan muttered low, but clearly.
Lieutenant Darvos looked up. "But General, we've taken a key fortress in a single day. That's a remarkable achievement."
Yuvan slowly shook his head. "And that's what troubles me. Fort Faar was Livasol's primary defense in the northeast. Taken in just one day? This isn't a normal victory—it's too easy."
Silence fell. Darvos crossed his arms, eyes scanning the map.
An intelligence scout entered briskly and saluted. "Latest report, General."
Yuvan took the scroll and read quickly, his eyes narrowing.
"Livasol's forces haven't retreated deeper into their lands. They've chosen to hold position at the Sarre Plains, near the northern hills. They're waiting for us there."
Lieutenant Rubeck spoke up, "They let Fort Faar fall to lull us into a false sense of victory."
Before anyone could respond, a second messenger rushed in.
"General, urgent news from the west. Troops from Gargantos have been spotted moving. They're led by General Goliath, third in command of their military. Estimated strength: fifteen thousand."
Selga clicked his tongue. Harven let out a long breath. Yuvan lowered his head, hands firmly pressed on the table.
"We're being drawn in. If Livasol holds us at Sarre and Goliath attacks from the west, we'll be crushed in a pincer. This isn't just war—it's a trap."
Meanwhile, in one of the simple barracks prepared for the young recruits, Bima sat with Togar, Rano, and Gito. They were still clad in dusty, blood-stained battle gear. In Bima's hand was a piece of warm bread, untouched.
"I... still can't believe we're alive," Rano whispered, gazing at the starry sky.
"Same here," Gito replied briefly. His shoulder was wrapped in a bandage, but he looked composed.
Togar slowly chewed a piece of roasted meat. "I nearly lost my arm from a sword slash. But we won. That's what matters, right?"
Bima was silent, his eyes fixed on the flickering flames. His mind replayed the screams, the clash of steel, the faces of those who would never rise again.
"We did win… but at a steep price," he said quietly.
Several of their comrades were severely injured. Some never returned. While such losses were 'normal' in war, for the four of them, it was their first close encounter with death.
"Tomorrow, we fight again," Rano said, trying to smile. "Let's hope... we're more prepared this time."
"I look forward to tomorrow," Bima said suddenly, his voice steady. "I want to keep going. I want to grow stronger... so I can protect all of you."
The three stared at him for a moment, then smiled. Though their hearts were still wrapped in fear and trauma, Bima's spirit rekindled their courage.
That night, the young soldiers fell into a deep, exhausted sleep, their dreams haunted by the sounds of battle. In the strategy room, General Yuvan remained awake, laying out new plans, his eyes locked on the paths of enemy movements.
The war was far from over. Today's victory was only the beginning of a much larger conflict. And the Sarre Plains—now Livasol's next line of defense—would become the next trial. A place where young warriors like Bima would carve out their destiny... amidst the growing storm of war.