Chapter 1188
Chapter 1188:
An unknown force, moving in shadows? That wasn’t war—it was something worse. Intentions cloaked, identity hidden. It wasn’t the attack that chilled me—it was the silence that preceded it. We couldn’t afford to wait. I summoned my team immediately.
In the meeting hall, Bryan sat already briefed, his jaw clenched.
“They come with hostile intent,” he said firmly. “We can’t wait for them to strike. Let’s hit them first—catch them before they catch us.”
“No. That’s too reckless,” Dominic countered, hands steepled as he studied the map between us. “We’re in the open. They aren’t. If we charge blindly, we risk walking into a trap. We need to hold our ground—use the terrain, force them into a siege, where we have the upper hand. As time goes by, the enemy will be worn down.”
Clayton leaned forward after rubbing his chin. “Before we act, we need answers. Knowing who they are could change everything. Forewarned is forearmed, after all.”
Listening to their differing opinions only deepened my frustration.
They were all right. But we were running out of time.
I pressed my fingertips to the table, grounding myself. Then I gave the order. “Send a team to intercept. Not to engage—set an ambush. We need prisoners. If we can’t read their banners, we’ll make them identify themselves.”
Amon stepped forward, nodded once, and vanished through the door.
But he was back far too soon. His face was tight with frustration when he reported. “Miss Dunn, we moved quickly, but… they’re gone. The entire force—vanished. No campfires, no tracks. Nothing.”
They had come like wraiths in the night and vanished just as swiftly—
as if the land itself had swallowed them whole. No sign of who they were. No clue as to why they came.
𝔾𝔸𝕃ℕ𝕆𝕍𝔼𝕃𝕊.ℂ𝕆𝕄 = 𝕆𝔽𝔽 ℂ𝕀𝔸𝕃
The fruitless meeting haunted me, and the dread burrowed deeper, cold and coiled in the pit of my stomach. Hoping the open sky might lend me clarity, I wandered into the garden with Winfred nestled in my arms.
The winding stone paths, dappled with sunlight and shadow, offered little comfort.
Who commanded that phantom army? And what did they want? I walked aimlessly, questions swirling like smoke, when the gentle splash of water drew my eyes forward.
There, by the edge of the pond, sat Alden—still and focused, a fishing rod balanced in his hands, the line rippling across the sunlit surface. I walked over and asked softly, “Alden, have you caught anything?”
He turned at the sound of my voice, and at once, his features softened—his guarded expression replaced by quiet delight.
A smile bloomed across his face as he set the rod aside and patted the bucket beside him. “I’ve caught quite a few. Makenna, I’ll cook something special for you tonight.”
Curious, I peeked into the bucket. Silvery fish darted within, their scales flashing like coins beneath the sunlight, creating tiny ripples as they danced in the water.
I lowered myself beside him, smiling, still holding Winfred close.
Winfred leaned forward slightly, wide-eyed and curious, his small mouth forming wordless syllables as he watched the fish with innocent wonder.
Alden watched him in silence, something shifting behind his eyes. After a quiet stretch, he finally asked, “Makenna… is he your son?”
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