Chapter 292: The Decision

Darion lay on his new mattress, staring at the ceiling. The bed was comfortable. Much more comfortable than the old one.

The mattress was soft but supportive, the frame sturdy and solid, the blankets warm and clean. It was everything he had wanted when he ordered the renovations. Everything he had worked for.

But despite that, Darion barely slept.

He spent most of the night staring at the ceiling, his mind refusing to quiet, his thoughts circling the same dark track over and over.

Every time he closed his eyes, his thoughts returned to the same thing. Vrethka. The two scouts. The perspective glasses. The way they had been watching Percvale. Their confidence. Their mention of the war they had just won. And most importantly, their intention to attack.

They’re coming.

He turned onto his side, punching the pillow into a different shape. He tried to convince himself that there was still time. Maybe the attack wouldn’t happen immediately.

Maybe the scouts were simply gathering information, reporting back to their superiors, waiting for orders. Maybe Vrethka hadn’t even mobilized yet. Maybe there was still time to prepare, to plan, to find a way out of this.

But none of those possibilities changed the main problem. He knew they were coming. And he knew almost nothing about them. He didn’t know how many warriors they had. He didn’t know what kind of weapons they used. He didn’t know their tactics, their strategies, their weaknesses. He was preparing for a war against an enemy he couldn’t see.

He remembered how he had spent the previous day dealing with something as simple as beds. At the time, it had seemed almost ridiculous compared to the threat of war. But now that the beds were finished, another problem had naturally come into view. The beds were done. Now this. There was no excuse to keep delaying the more serious issue.

He needed information. Not assumptions. Not rumors. Information.

His thoughts drifted back to another time when he had underestimated how quickly an enemy could act. Valdenmoor. He remembered leaving Percvale. At the time, he had gone because he needed battle potions from Vera. It had seemed like a reasonable decision. Percvale wasn’t supposed to be under immediate threat. Then Valdenmoor attacked. By the time Darion understood what had happened, the damage had already been done. Half of his knights had been killed.

Darion’s expression tightened. That was a rookie mistake. He knew better now. At the same time, he didn’t completely blame himself. Back then, there hadn’t really been much he could have done.

He couldn’t predict that Valdenmoor would attack at that exact moment. And even if he had stayed, there was no guarantee he could have stopped them. His only realistic alternative would have been evacuating people beforehand.

But that wasn’t the point. The point was that Darion had learned something. Never assume an enemy will wait for you. He didn’t want to repeat that mistake.

He considered the obvious option. Stay in Percvale. Strengthen the castle. Train the knights. Wait for Vrethka to attack. It sounded reasonable. But the more he thought about it, the less comfortable he became.

And then what? What happened if Vrethka had a huge army? What happened if they had already mobilized? What happened if they knew something about Percvale that Darion didn’t? What happened if they were planning to attack from an unexpected direction? Even worse, what if they were already preparing?

Darion had no answers. He realized that simply strengthening the castle blindly wasn’t enough. He needed to know what he was preparing against.

Hours passed. The darkness outside gradually began to fade. Eventually, the first light of morning started appearing through the windows. Darion hadn’t really slept. But somewhere during those hours, his decision became clear.

He needed to go to Vrethka.

Not with an army. Not with the knights. Not with a massive escort. Himself. He needed to see the settlement. He needed to observe their soldiers. He needed to understand their defenses. He needed to find out how large their forces were. He needed to determine whether they were actually preparing an attack. And most importantly, he needed to find out why.

If they’re planning to attack Percvale, I need to know what I’m dealing with.

Darion sat up.

’I’ll go there myself.’

---

Morning finally arrived. Darion got out of bed, his body heavy with exhaustion, his mind still racing. Despite having barely slept, he didn’t allow himself to dwell on his fatigue. He went through his usual morning routine — washed, bathed, changed into clean clothes, prepared himself for the day. Everything felt completely normal, which was almost strange.

Outside, people were already awake. Workers were moving around, servants were preparing breakfast, knights were beginning their routines. The castle continued operating as usual. Darion walked toward the dining hall.

Garren and Seren were already there. They were eating breakfast like they normally would. Darion joined them. For a few moments, he said nothing about Vrethka. He ate. He listened to their casual conversation. He watched the others moving around the dining hall. The normal atmosphere made the situation feel even stranger.

Darion finished enough of his breakfast before finally speaking. "Garren. Seren."

Both looked toward him.

"We need to talk."

Garren immediately recognized the serious tone. "About Vrethka?"

Darion nodded. "Yes."

They adjusted to face him well.

"I’m going to Vrethka," Darion began.

Silence.

Garren stared at him. "You’re what?"

Darion repeated himself. "I’m going to Vrethka."

Seren looked surprised as well. "Yourself?"

"Yes."

Darion explained his reasoning. They didn’t have enough information. The scouts had already been watching Percvale. They knew enough about his territory to believe it could be attacked. Darion wanted to know what was happening before the attack actually came.

Garren immediately rejected the idea. "No."

Darion looked at him. "No?"

"It’s too dangerous."

Garren explained exactly why. Darion was the Baron. He was the leader of Percvale. If he got captured or killed, the territory could collapse. There was no guarantee that his undead army could protect him from every possible threat. He might be strong, but that didn’t make him invincible.