Soulbound: Dual Cultivation

Chapter 532: Marching for Lechia 2

The next morning came without delay, as though the world itself had decided there would be no more waiting.

At first light, the entire encampment was already in motion.

Orders rang out across the fields, banners were raised, formations locked into place with practiced precision, and within moments, what had once been a resting force transformed into a marching army. The ground itself seemed to tremble faintly beneath the weight of thousands moving as one.

Valerion’s forces advanced in disciplined ranks, their armor catching the early light, their expressions set with hardened resolve. Beside them, Blackmare’s army moved with equal coordination, their numbers filling the horizon in a way that made the scale of what was about to happen impossible to ignore.

At the forefront, King Highmoor rode with calm authority, the Empress beside him, her presence alone enough to silence doubt among those who glanced her way. Not far from them, Renly led his own forces, his earlier decision to stand with his army now made visible in every step forward.

This was no longer preparation.

This was war in motion.

Further back, but not disconnected from the larger force, Lucas moved with his covert group.

They did not stand out.

They were not meant to.

Blending within the larger movement, they maintained formation without drawing attention, their purpose separate even as their path aligned with the main army. Damian, Bartho, Vorde, Patrick, and the two Blackmare celestials all moved with him, their expressions focused, their minds already ahead of where their bodies marched.

Jennifer and the main squad remained behind, carrying their own responsibilities, while Lucas and his selected unit advanced toward a different objective hidden beneath the larger campaign.

No one spoke much within the group.

There was no need.

Each of them understood what lay ahead.

They would move with the army until the moment came.

Until the path split.

Until Lechia drew the attention of the world, and Rus, for a brief moment, became vulnerable.

Lucas’s gaze remained forward as they marched, his expression calm, unreadable, as though he had already stepped into the mission long before his feet reached it.

Around them, thousands advanced toward battle.

But for Lucas and his group, the real war would begin when they quietly stepped away from it.

After more than a month of relentless travel, the air itself began to change.

The further north they pushed, the colder it became, the winds sharper, carrying with them a quiet hostility that settled deep into the bones. The terrain grew harsher, less forgiving, as though even the land resisted what was coming. The Valerion soldiers were used to it because they’ve been in the region before, but the Blackmare soldiers are not.

By the time the army reached the northern stretch that bordered the path toward Lechia, the long march finally slowed.

This was where paths would divide.

The massive force that had moved as one for weeks began to reorganize, commanders issuing new orders, formations adjusting in preparation for the coming assault. There was a shift in the atmosphere, something heavier, more focused. The anticipation of battle was no longer distant.

It was close.

Lucas stood slightly apart from the main formations with his covert group, his gaze fixed ahead for a moment before he turned.

"It is time," he said.

No one questioned it.

They all knew.

This was where they would break away.

But before that, there was one final matter to settle.

Lucas made his way toward the command section, where the rulers had established their temporary position. Guards stepped aside as he approached, recognizing him without needing to ask.

Inside, King Highmoor stood over a spread of maps, his attention fixed, while the Empress remained nearby, her presence calm yet dominating the space. Renly stood opposite them, his posture relaxed but his focus sharp.

They all looked up as Lucas entered.

"My lords," he said with a slight bow.

King Highmoor straightened. "Xavier."

The Empress’s gaze lingered on him for a brief moment, as if already knowing why he was there.

Lucas spoke without delay.

"This is where my group departs."

A quiet silence followed.

Renly studied him. "You have reached your point."

"Yes," Lucas replied. "From here, we move toward Rus."

King Highmoor nodded slowly, absorbing the weight of that. "And the timing."

"We move as soon as your assault begins," Lucas said. "The distraction will be at its peak then."

The Empress crossed her arms lightly. "You understand what you are walking into."

Lucas met her gaze. "Yes."

There was no hesitation.

No uncertainty.

King Highmoor stepped forward slightly, his eyes fixed on Lucas. "This mission carries more than risk. If you fail, we lose more than just an opportunity."

"I know," Lucas said.

"And if you succeed," Renly added, "you may change the course of this war."

Lucas did not respond to that.

He did not need to.

The weight of it was already understood.

For a brief moment, none of them spoke.

Then King Highmoor exhaled quietly.

"You have done everything I have asked of you," he said. "And more."

Lucas remained still.

"Return," the king added, his voice firm. "No matter the outcome, you return."

Lucas gave a slight nod. "I will."

The Empress stepped forward just slightly, her gaze unwavering. "Do not rely on strength alone," she said. "In a place like Rus, survival belongs to those who think faster than they fight."

Lucas held her gaze. "Understood."

Renly looked at him for a moment longer, then said, "If you make it back, Blackmare will remember what you have done."

Lucas inclined his head slightly. "Then I will give you something worth remembering."

A faint, almost approving look passed between the three rulers.

That was enough.

Lucas straightened fully, then turned.

There were no drawn-out farewells.

No wasted words.

Only purpose.

As he stepped out of the command area and returned to his group, the division became real.

Behind him, an army prepared to march into open war.

Ahead of him, a smaller path led into something far more uncertain.

And without looking back, Lucas led his group away from the main force, toward Rus.

Earlier, before the final formations were called and before the armies began to shift into their respective paths, Lucas had gone to find her.

The Ice Belle was not with the soldiers.

She never was.

He found her some distance from the main encampment, where the cold seemed to gather more naturally around her presence. Frost traced faint patterns along the ground where she stood, and the air carried that familiar biting chill that followed her without effort.

She noticed him before he spoke.

She turned toward him, a small smile already forming as if she had expected it.

Lucas stopped a few steps away from her. "I need your help."

That caught her attention more than anything else.

She tilted her head slightly. "You rarely say that."

"This is important," he said.

Her expression softened just a little, the playfulness giving way to something more attentive. "What’s it?"

Lucas met her eyes. "When the battle at Lechia begins, I need to know immediately."

"Our link," she said quietly.

Lucas nodded. "You will feel me. I will feel you. When the battle starts, send a signal through it. Something clear. Something I cannot mistake."

The Ice Belle looked at him for a moment, studying him in silence.

Then she smiled again, though this time it was softer, more certain.

"You are relying on me," she said.

"I am," Lucas replied.

She stepped a little closer, her presence bringing that sharp cold with her, but there was warmth in her eyes that contradicted it.

"Then you will not miss it," she said. "The moment the first strike lands, I will reach you."

Lucas held her gaze, then gave a small nod. "Good."

She folded her arms lightly, a hint of her usual confidence returning. "And when you feel it, you move."

"Yes."

Another brief silence settled between them, not awkward, but heavy with understanding.

Then she added, more quietly, "Do not die in Rus."

Lucas almost smiled. "That is the plan."

She studied him for another second, then gave a small nod of her own, as if sealing the agreement in her own way.

"Then go," she said. "I will be watching."

Lucas turned after that, not lingering longer than necessary, he joined his groups and they left for Rus.