Sharp eyes gleamed towards the goal of their journey. Behind his back, he could feel the support from his men, one and all ready to sacrifice themselves for their king. However, although his warriors were ready to prove their honor, many of his subordinate lords lacked the vigor of their forefathers.

“King Pacha, we should be careful in our further approach. The men are tired after all,” a shaky voice came from his side. Annoyed, King Pachacutec of the Central Kingdom turned his eyes to see the weakling who dared call himself his ally. Lord Rupilo wasn't an old man, with long black hair and only a hint of crows feet around his eyes, but he had the spirit of someone in the dusk of his life.

“Silence your tongue, weakling! Look upon my men and weep.” Once Pacha had reprimanded his tardy underling, he turned on his heels to find the combined forces of the central kingdom. Red on silver, his great men sat around the encampment and caught their breath from their long march.

Skirmishers, archers, climbers, core and shock infantry, all of them ready to give their lives for his great cause. And in the front sat his greatest, the famous silver warriors of House Pluritac, dressed in silver lamellar armor and with their famous tiger helmets. The capes had been his own recent addition, one the king was quite proud of.

Even though Pacha had decided to fight Corco without support from his Uncle Divitius, these were still the greatest forces in all of Medala, of that he had no doubt. With them he wouldn't need the poisoned chalice from House Ichilia, support for subservience.

Rather than rely on his uncle's questionable loyalty, he had commanded the service from all kinds of lords within his kingdom, and still managed to assemble a full sixty-thousand warriors. His own Pluritac men alone were around eight thousand, elite troops ready to show Corco the strength of the northern fist.

“How could you deny these brave men their destiny?” Pacha said, still focused on his mighty troops, rather than his worthless allies. “We will crush the southern monkeys like waves upon straw huts. For generations to come, the commoners of Arguna will sing hymns of glory about these warriors of Pluritac. Who are you to say otherwise?”

“...however, an attack from the front is too dangerous for now. We need more information on their defenses before we can choose our approach,” Rupilo said behind his back, his voice still weak.

“What defenses?” Pacha smiled. As his smile turned sneer, he stared over to the laughable excuse for a fortification his brother had put in their way.

In their way stood the old Qarasi Castle. Slanted walls lead up an artificial hill of raised earth, with traditional Medalan houses on top. Although the construction was simple, the Arga River in the south made any attack from Sachay near-suicidal.

When he had visited the Narrows many years ago, Qarasi Castle had been weak on its northern side, but by now, the southerners had made it ready for war, or tried to at least. A total of four spokes stretched out from the sides of the original castle, created from two walls each. Once additional spokes could be added to the back of the castle, the whole construction would look like a star.

“This is barely enough to consider an obstacle, let alone dangerous,” Pacha concluded “Qarasi will be nothing more than a stepping stone in our righteous path to the usurpation of the south. What my ancestors failed at, I will achieve. We will rush through the Narrows like a flood, and in death, will bring honor the south had never known. Only through a stern hand can we pacify the barbarians, once and for all!”

“Even so, a frontal attack on a castle seems unwise, even more so with the men tired after a forced march. Maybe Lord Rupilo has a point,” Pacha's father, Elder Caelestis, said. Even now, the old man bothered Pacha to no end. Despite the fact that he was a member of the Ancestral Hall, the shell of a man had come along to support Pacha on his first campaign.

Of course, the young king understood what the old man wanted to do: He wanted to control him, keep him on the leash, for his fake wife from the Ichilia clan. However, Pacha didn't mind keeping Caelestis around. In fact, he relished the chance to show his father just how capable he was, that he didn't need anyone's help to achieve his goals. Whether or not Caelestis wanted to control Pacha, in the end, the king held all the power. He could always just say no if he disagreed with a decision. Just like he would do right now.

“What sort of front do you speak of all this time?” Pacha said to the old men who would bar his path. “Have your eyes gone rotten with the years? Have your minds? At your age, how do you not know about the history of Qarasi Castle? It was built by House Pluritac as a way to defend the Narrows from southern attacks. The walls in the north are thin, and even the river runs along its southern wall. We will not attack the front, we will attack the castle's weak and exposed back before the defenders can summon reinforcements. How could this ever be considered a rash or dangerous action?”

“However, King Pacha, the King of the South has changed much of Qarasi's new layout. All throughout the year, my men have spotted building projects along the northern walls. Prudence is a virtue after all.”

“Hmmm...” As the king strained his wisdom, he looked about the ugly gray outcroppings along the north side of the wall, like glaciers running off a mountain top. “I don't understand the point of such a construction. Would this sort of wall not only make approaches easier and increase the surface area for our ladders and grapples to attack?”

Of course, Pacha understood the weakness of these new walls right away. From childhood, he had been educated in the ways of battle. He would understand best how to and how not to deal with an attack from cultivators. When under siege by a superior number of foes, this sort of construction would only stretch the defenders thin, and make life easy on the attackers.

“Even so, King Corco might lack experience, but he still has a competent staff, and the southern lords know war. Your brother wouldn't do this without a reason,” Caelestis butted in again.

“Who is that southern monkey's brother!?” With the furor of a great leader Pacha turned for only a moment, but it was enough to let his coward father shrink back in his seat. No matter what, Pacha would never be like Caelestis. Never be a coward. With the central armies under his control, there was nothing to fear. Soon, all lords of Medala would cower beneath his feet.

Once Caelestis had been reigned in, Pacha returned back to more important issues. After all, the elder would never pose a problem. He didn't have the stomach for it. Instead, the king's mighty gaze returned to the bizarre constructions along the castle's north side.

“What is that thing made out of anyways?” he asked with a look at the walls. Like spokes on a wheel the six structures cropped out from the base walls and formed three triangles along the castle's outer perimeter. “From the gray color, they look almost like stone. How did they get it this smooth?” Despite his vigor, he wouldn't storm into problems like he used to. Pacha had learned. For now, he would collect information, and then use it to crush his enemies with swift force. Just like Amautu and Corco always did.

“It should not be, King Pacha,” Makipura, the lord of the southern province said from the back of the command tent. All this time he had been neighbor to the southerners, yet he hadn't acted at all. Just like his penchant to remain unseen in these meetings, it only further proved the lord's weakness. “Although we have been neighbors with the southern king's men for almost a year now, our contact has been very limited. Once construction on the castle began, we attempted to send several envoys, but were denied entry.”

“Arrogant southern dogs!” Pacha spat on the torn earth.

“Arrogant is correct, King Pacha. However, we have placed several Eagle-eyed close to the enemy encampment and managed to learn more about their production method. It appears as if the southerners constructed a kind of mould from wood around the space for the walls before they poured a fluid into them. When the wood was removed, the smooth gray surface was revealed.”

“Hmmm... so it would be a type of paper?” Pacha sneered. This was just like Corco, trying to solve all of his problems with books alone.

“Very wise, King Pacha. Indeed, we believe it to be a type of wood pulp, reinforced with either glue or lacquer,” Lord Makipura confirmed his king's suspicions.

“That's great! We can try to storm them first, but even if they manage to hold us off for a while, we can always use rams or fire to destroy them. Use the rams and collapse the walls. That way we create a ramp right into the heart of their castle. Use the fire and we can smoke out their entire horde. No matter how I look at this, these walls seem like nothing but suicide.”

Every time he looked at the construction, a wider sneer stole itself onto the king's face. How could his brother be so ridiculous? Surely, he had tried to be too clever again, but Pacha knew that trying anything new in combat would never stand up against the methods refined and tested for generations. No matter what tricks his brother would play, he would poke and prod until he found the weakness. Then the king could break the trickery with impunity.

“Even so, we should be careful, “ Rupilo said, his voice still as weak as his stomach.

“'Careful, careful, careful'. Always hesitant, are we? Maybe that's why you switched sides four times in the last year.” King Pacha stared Rupilo down. Although the lord's eyes shook, he did nothing, just like Pacha's father had. This was something else Pacha had learned. Many of these lords were nothing more than paper tigers, men who pretended strength to hide their weakness. They would be easy to lead once he could prove his worth in combat.

“Why should we be careful?” Pacha asked, and his eyes returned back towards the castle, the first obstacle in his conquest of the south. “To give that southern monkey and his armies time to catch up here? No, by the time Corco reaches Qarasi, he will find his pretty new castle fly my flag, and nothing else.”

As Pacha's sneer disappeared, it was replaced by a grim mien. Of course, he wouldn't fear anything, not with the armies of the central kingdom in his back. Even so, he would avoid confrontation with Corco if he could. His defeat during their duel still weighed heavy on his mind. Never before had he felt a humiliation like that. Never again would he let it happen. He would crush Corco in direct confrontation, and make up this shame. But only when his win was assured would he face his brother. The southern's king's nasty tricks had blindsided Pacha once, but he would never let it happen again. No tricks, no games. Only a frontal engagement in open plains would settle their dispute. Until he could face Corco under those conditions, the fearless Pacha would avoid a fight, not out of lack of courage, but out of prudence alone.

“Elder Caelestis, tell our climbers to get ready,” he made his final decision as his sneer returned. “We will take Qarasi Castle before nightfall!”