The Last Primal

"Though, I can't help but wonder… what does the general want with the young miss lieutenant joining the discussion? Does she have anything special to add? Exarch K'hlen asked as his face contorted into a twisted-looking, hideous smirk, gazing at the stout standing woman looking at a statue beside the general. "Or maybe, does she have some… other uses?" He asked, smirking nastily.

His snarky comment made the rather tall woman, the lieutenant, Sievul, who seemed to be the right hand of the General, Prince Dorian tremble ever so slightly. Though only for a brief moment as the stoic expression quickly returned and won over her emotions.

Exarch K'hlen snickered at the sight of how this tall woman, dressed in the empire's dark red armor exposed herself even if only for a bit. Still, he did not offer any further comment on it and simply looked at the General for some answers.

"Enough of your games, old man." Dorian sighed with an annoyed tone of voice. "Don't mistake me for those others, or the rest of my siblings that just because doesn't know what kind of monster you truly are, fear you. Remember who defeated you before, who made you kneel like a pathetic, weak mongrel on the ground and beg for its MASTER'S MERCY!" His voice increased in power the longer Dorian spoke, bellowing at the end.

The snicker instantly faded from Exarch K'hlen's wrinkled old face as he was reminded of the painful and hated memory by the very man that somehow dominated him. No matter how much he tried and tested, the royal bloodline was not something he could contend with, despite the powers he had amassed over the long years of his eventful life.

He clicked his tongue in response, not offering a single word of retort. He averted his gaze instead, looking at the rest of the gathered leaders around this small round table strategic meeting.

"In any way… is there any more, meaningful input from any of you?" General Dorian turned to look at the remaining leaders gathered around the table.

"If I may… my general…" Standing opposite of Rillion, a thin, and lanky man with short, curly black hair and an unshaven rough-looking face spoke up. He was Syf, the captain of the empire's probably currently most important battalion, the spies sent to scout and map out all potential points of entry into the Kingdom.

Leader of the shadows, the spies and scouts that infiltrated to each and every nook and cranny already in the whole eastern side of the continent, he was most likely the host of many dark secrets.

Yet, despite all that untapped knowledge and potential, he was a faithful servant of the revered Godly Emperor, never to question, never to betray his will. Whilst he retained an aloof, somewhat distant attitude to everyone, even his peers, and the Generals as well, he was fearful and reverent of the Emperor.

His long, gnarled finger pointed at the Eastern Gates. "I believe Lord Rillon actually has a point in his idea of a direct approach, general." He spoke, giving it a moment before he continued to explain.

"We do have an overwhelming force. Though the reports were not conclusive, and we are not certain how much we can count in the 'Adventurer's Guild' to step up… as despite being a neutral, international force, they do tend to meddle in internal affairs from time to time… Regardless we still have the strength in numbers and can even afford some losses. This city is the only bastion in the entire Southern part of the kingdom. Once it falls, we would have a clear, unobstructed way down towards the shoreline as well."

"Quite interesting to hear something like that from your mouth, Syf. Not something I would expect to hear." General Dorian smiled at the words of the snake-like man.

Syf bowed respectfully upon the offered words.

"Yes, I may favor the more subtle approach, sir but… there are times when it is simply not needed. Our current approach perfectly suits our needs. A direct frontal attack would be crushing and decisive enough to end this fight much quicker. We would also allow the weak-minded to a route to escape, thus significantly reducing the opposition."

"Not to mention, we would give the other forces some extra challenge along the way, thus giving the General some more edge against his brothers." He spoke, ending his explanation with a warm-looking smile. He bowed again, humbling himself before taking a step back and allowing them a chance to offer their thoughts.

Standing silent so far, only two girls have not yet offered their words.

One of them was somewhat similar, but at the same time, held a vastly different role in the empire's army lineup. The buxom mature beauty of Lorelei captained the smallest, yet one of the most feared sections of the army, the assassins. With two literal mountains weighing down on her chest, it was quite a sight to see her nimbly sneak from shadow to shadow, defying the laws of physics and probability with each of her silent steps.

Yet, despite the obvious nature-given blessing-slash-handicap, she was frighteningly accomplished in her profession. Using every asset, every skill she had to her fullest advantage, once she set her greedy claws on a target, it was considered a done deal.

She commanded a very compact little group, barely reaching into the forties, but each and every one of hers was feared murderers, throat-slicers. Each was a heartless, emotionless killing machine, ground to perfection through years and decades of arduous training and deadly missions.

People of high standing feared and respected them in an equal manner, not daring to show disdain or contempt, lest they would make it on their fabled 'list'.

The other woman was Elena. She had short, straight blonde hair, much unlike the long wavy velvety braided cascade of Lorelei. Elena was slender, slim, and too much to her sorrow and the source of her usual bratty, willful attitude… flat-chested.

Whilst Lorelei had her natural seductive, alluring charm and the soothing, warm whisper-like tone of voice that hardly any man could resist and would instantly raise their inner beast and lust wherever she went; Elena on the other hand was mostly aloof, cold, distant in the presence of the other sex.

She had a strong mind, she was headstrong. With her deep azure blue gemstone-like eyes, Elena could just as well pierce into the core of the lust-driven beasts, the men. Still, although she was nothing alike Lorelei, Elena was just as much of a beauty in the eyes of the soldiers. Like Lorelei, she too had her own fan club, not bothered by the fact that she didn't consider them as much as the dirt upon her leather, laced high heels.

Elena was the leader of the ranged forces. A group that was rapidly raising their importance in the conquest.

As all eyes were cast upon them, Lorelei flashed a charming smile.

"I may have an idea, my General…"

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>>>Check out my latest novel: The Strongest Demon Lord in the Modern World<<

It's an urban modern-day styled story, with a reverse transmigrated ('Banished') immortal entity from the fantastical world of Nova!

Planned Tags and Genre:  # CULTIVATION  # R18  # BETRAYAL  # TRANSMIGRATION  # URBAN  # ACTION  # ANTIHERO  # OVERPOWERED (romance maybe at some later point)

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