The rebellion wasn't dead.
It was reborn.
That very night, a small strike team slipped into the valley below.
They found one of Cedric's supply caravans—unguarded, unprotected.
Aldric didn't hesitate.
With a swift signal, his men set it ablaze.
The explosion lit up the night, the flames reflecting in Aldric's eyes.
Cedric thought he had won.
But this war was far from over.
---
The glow of the burning supply caravan still flickered in the distance as Aldric and his team retreated into the cover of the trees. The scent of charred wood and scorched grain filled the night air. It was a small victory, but an important one.
They had struck first.
And now Cedric would know—the rebellion wasn't dead.
Aldric crouched behind a fallen log, motioning for the others to hold position. They had to be careful. The enemy would react soon, and the last thing they needed was to get caught in an open field.
Elya wiped soot off her cheek, grinning. "That went well."
