A knock on the door woke the sleeping Prince Trenaut.
Usually, he was a deep sleeper, but the anticipation and seriousness surrounding his current situation made it so that he couldn’t really fall deeply into sleep.
He had woken up multiple tis throughout the night, and then this knock woke him up once again.
He got out of bed and quickly put on a simple trouser and shirt. He wore the helt next to his bed and grabbed the sword before walking out.
A man waited outside, a look of nervousness all over him.
The prince frowned the mont he saw him. "What? What’s wrong?"
It was clear from the way the man acted that sothing was.
"Our army, Your Majesty," the man hesitated. "Sothing... sothing happened to our army."
The prince followed the man outside to the yard of the palace where his people were already gathered. Along the way, the man explained the situation.
Because the prince had asked his people to cooperate with the other two candidates and their people, they had planned to charge for the Undead while everyone on their enemy’s side was busy dealing with the assassins.
They also believed that since many of the necromancers in their group wouldn’t be dead by the ti they attacked, many of their own necromancers had taken part in that army to attack the Undead and take over them.
However, it had all turned out badly. The Undead were far too strong to be attacked, and a fog had ended up killing most of the soldiers. The result was a devastating loss.
The Prince ran on ahead with his eyes burning with anger.
"What is this I’m hearing?" he shouted as he approached his n.
"Your Majesty."
"We just got the news."
"We didn’t know anything about this."
People began making excuses around him.
"We lost? All 3 of us working together lost?" the prince asked.
"It is true," the old man, who had been with the prince for the longest ti, answered. "We are only just finding out as well."
"How could we have lost?" the prince couldn’t believe it.
It was over 20 thousand alive humans fighting against re 8,000 Undead. How could they have lost?
"We don’t understand, but reports say that there was a fog there that completely stumped our soldiers. Not a single person could do anything against the Undead."
"Fog?" the prince asked.
A young man ran into the group, delivering a piece of paper. "Sirs, this is bad."
The old man took the paper from the young man’s hand, quickly opening it to read what was written inside. When he read it, his eyes went wide in horror.
"This... this can’t be true," he said. He turned toward the young man. "Bring the man who made this report. He either made a mistake, or we have bigger issues."
The young man nodded and rushed off.
The prince stared at the old man with an anxious look. "What is it? What is that letter?"
"Casualty report," the old man said softly.
"From? The army or the assassins?" the prince asked.
"The army. We don’t have anything about the assassins just yet."
"What about the army? How many did we lose?" the prince asked.
The old man hesitated. "We should wait for soone to co confirm the—"
"How many?!"
The old man froze and nodded. "6-6 thousand."
"Okay..." the prince said. "20 thousand fought and 6 thousand lost. I don’t see how that is—"
"Not total, Your Majesty," the old man explained. "Our army. Of the 8 thousand soldiers we had, we lost 6 thousand."
Gasps rang out around the place. The prince froze as well, trying to take in the news.
"What?" he asked in disbelief. "We lost... 6 thousand soldiers?"
That ant that they only had 2 thousand soldiers remaining. That was three-fourths of their army decimated in a single strike.
If three-fourths of the army had died, then, of the original 20 thousand, there should now be barely 5 thousand remaining. And if the Undead truly did not take any casualties, then that ant they were completely outnumbered.
Sweat ford around the prince’s face. The situation had turned from bad to worse in just a few hours. How had things gone this badly?
"How is this even possible?" the prince asked. "How could re 8 thousand Undead manage to kill 15 thousand people without losing any at all? Was the fog that devastating?"
"I don’t know, Your Majesty," the old man said. "I simply pray this information is false."
The prince waited, his legs twitching. He could not have this be happening. It could not be true. He had to be the next Emperor. He couldn’t let the girl have it.
No one dared say a single thing as they waited for the news.
A man arrived, limping, but he still hurried to get back to the group.
"General, were you the one who sent the ssage?" the old man asked.
"Yes, Advisor. It was I," the man said.
Before the old man could say anything else, the prince pushed him aside and walked forward.
"How did you guys lose? Tell what happened."
"We... we don’t really know. We went into the fog, thinking it was normal, but then I started hearing screams from inside the fog. Everyone continued screaming and—"
"Forget about the fog," the Prince said. "Is it true that we lost so many soldiers?"
"Y-yes, Your Majesty," the general said. "We lost over 6 thousand soldiers. It is bad. I fear that—"
"How could this happen?" the prince spoke, not giving the man a chance to say anything else. "How could you and the rest of the soldiers watch as our entire coalition lost over 15 thousand soldiers in a single night?"
The General looked up, slowly shaking his head.
The Prince was wrong about sothing.
The prince frowned. "What?"
"The Coalition didn’t lose 15 thousand. We lost 9 thousand," the General said.
The Prince paused. "How can that be? We alone lost 6—"
A sudden thought struck him in that mont as he realized the truth.
He had been betrayed.
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