The King Who Returned From Death

Execution Order Letter

​"What?!"

​Torin's eyes widened in shock. His body froze in front of the tactical table, staring at Nikolai as if the man before him had gone mad. The cold air inside the main tent felt increasingly suffocating.

​"Commander, are you crazy?" Torin whispered, trembling. "Attacking Frostvein's outer fortress is suicide! That fortress is heavily guarded by the empire's core troops and magic cannons!"

​Nikolai did not budge. He flattened out Malakor's execution order parchment that he had crumpled earlier. He placed it right in the center of the border region map, aligned with the position of the outer fortress.

​"Look at this carefully, Torin," Nikolai said calmly. "On this map, the outer fortress looks like an impenetrable stone wall. But I know every crack and weakness in its structure."

​Torin took a step closer, his eyes shifting between Nikolai's face and the scroll of parchment paper on the table. Fear and curiosity mixed in his chest. He could not understand how an outcast soldier like Kael could possess such high confidence.

​"Who are you really?" Torin asked again, trying to find an answer in Nikolai's sharp gaze. "Your knowledge of battle and the empire's fortress makes no sense for an ordinary person."

​Nikolai merely smiled faintly. He pulled a wooden chair from the corner of the room and sat down. The fur coat mantle belonging to Malakor draped over his shoulders added an undeniable air of authority.

​"You don't need to know who I was before," Nikolai replied softly. "All you need to know is one thing, if we stay here, troops from the capital will definitely come to slaughter us all."

​Nikolai pointed toward the blood stamp seal at the bottom of the letter. The coiled dragon-shaped seal made of thick red liquid still looked fresh, indicating that this order was just issued from inside the palace.

​"This letter is proof that Malakor was indeed assigned to ensure this front line was destroyed," Nikolai continued. "Isolde never intended to let a single outcast soldier here return home alive."

​"But why?" Torin interrupted angrily. "We are just bait soldiers sent to hold off the enemy! Why does the ruler of the capital even need to bother sending a special execution letter for us?"

​"Because you know too much about the corruption at this border," Nikolai answered. "And most importantly, a surviving outcast troop would only become a threat to her political position in the palace."

​Torin clenched his fists tightly. Anger began to replace the fear that had previously consumed him. All this time, he and his comrades risked their lives in the snowfield, only to find out that they were intentionally discarded to die.

​"That wicked woman..." Torin cursed as he spat on the ground. "She sits comfortably on a plush palace chair while we starve and freeze here!"

​"That's why we have no other choice but to attack first," Nikolai stated firmly. "That outer fortress is the main key to logistics for the entire border. If we manage to take control of that fortress, we will have enough food, weapons, and a defense base to survive."

​"But how do we break through?" Torin asked, this time more seriously. "Our numbers are less than five hundred people. Most soldiers are also severely injured after the battle earlier this afternoon."

​Nikolai stood up from his chair and pointed to a spot on the western part of the outer fortress on the map. That spot was an icy water drainage outlet connected directly to the lower section of the main watchtower.

​"That fortress has an old drainage canal closed off with thick iron bars," Nikolai explained. "The guards there think that place cannot possibly be passed. But its locking mechanism is on the outside, embedded in the snow."

​Torin observed the spot Nikolai pointed to with a furrowed brow. "Are you sure that canal isn't guarded? What if it's just a trap?"

​"I designed the blueprint for that fortress five years ago," Nikolai blurted out unintentionally, but he immediately corrected his sentence. "I mean, I know the history of that fortress's construction from old records."

​Torin looked at Nikolai suspiciously for a few seconds because of that slip of the tongue. However, because the situation was extremely urgent, he chose not to think further about it.

​"Good," Torin said with a slow nod. "If there really is a secret path, we can infiltrate a small troop to open the main gate from the inside."

​"Exactly," Nikolai replied. "But before that, we must ensure every soldier in this camp is ready to fight and one hundred percent obedient to a single command."

​"I agree, Commander."

​"Alright, now gather all squad leaders before me."

​"Yes, Commander."

​Within minutes, eight burly men with bodies full of scars and ragged clothes stood in a circle in front of the tactical table.

​The atmosphere inside the tent felt extremely tense. The squad leaders looked at Nikolai with a mix of respect and fear. They knew Nikolai had just executed Malakor without hesitation, proving that this young man was far more dangerous than their previous commander.

​"I have checked the weapon inventory and remaining food supplies in the warehouse," said one of the squad leaders named Bran, opening the conversation in a hoarse voice. "Wheat supplies are only enough for two days. Our arrows and hot oil are also almost gone."

​"That is the reason why we cannot linger here," Nikolai stated firmly. "Starting tonight, divide the troops into three squads. The first squad's duty is to gather remaining weapons from the enemy corpses outside the camp."

​The squad leaders listened carefully to every word Nikolai said. Not a single one of them dared to interrupt or disobey like when Malakor was still leading.

​"The second squad will focus on treating the wounded soldiers and preparing logistics wagons," Nikolai continued as he looked into the eyes of the squad leaders one by one. "And the third squad will be the vanguard troop that departs with me tonight."

​Bran took one step forward, his wrinkled face looking hesitant. "Commander, our soldiers look extremely exhausted. If we move tonight during the blizzard, many will fall along the way."

​"The blizzard is actually our best shield," Nikolai countered coldly. "The guards at the outer fortress will drop their guard because they think no troop would dare to move in weather like this. We will take advantage of their carelessness."

​Bran bowed his head, unable to argue against Nikolai's highly logical reasoning. He realized Nikolai's leadership style was very different, every command was always accompanied by clear tactical reasons.

​Nikolai then took Malakor's small wooden chest lying under the table. He shattered its lock using the hilt of his sword, then opened it in front of everyone. Inside the chest, piles of gold and silver coins glistened under the torchlight.

​"This is the bribe money Malakor kept during his tenure here," Nikolai said while taking a handful of gold coins. "Distribute part of this money to all the soldiers. Tell them this is the initial proof that under my command, their hard work and blood will be valued."

​The eyes of the squad leaders instantly lit up upon seeing the pile of gold. During their years of serving on the front lines, they had never received decent pay. This distribution of gold immediately ignited their spirits and awakened a new loyalty in their hearts.

​"Yes, Commander! We will execute your orders right now, Commander!" Bran exclaimed full of spirit, representing the feelings of the other squad leaders.

​"Good. Hurry, but do not make a commotion," Nikolai ordered before dismissing the meeting.

​The squad leaders immediately left the tent to carry out their respective duties. The camp atmosphere that was previously filled with despair now transformed into a busy scene full of war preparations. The clashing of weapons and scraping of shields began to be heard outside.

​Nikolai stood alone again in front of the tactical table. He picked up the execution order letter from Isolde once more. His fingers stroked the surface of the parchment, feeling the coldness of the imperial blood stamp.

​Inside his chest, memories of that night of torture at the Ice Altar spun back. The pain when iron stakes pierced through his ribs and Isolde's cold fingers reached inside his chest to tear out his mana core made Nikolai's breathing grow ragged.

​"Isolde..." Nikolai whispered softly yet heavy with vengeance. "Do you think that by killing me and discarding my corpse, you can sit peacefully on the throne of Frostvein?"

​Nikolai clenched his fists so tightly that his fingernails pierced the skin of his own palms. Drops of fresh blood dripped onto the map, right above the written name of Frostvein's capital city.

​He realized the body of Kael he currently occupied had a very limited mana capacity. Without his former mana core, he could not use high level magic. However, decades of war experience and his tactical knowledge as a king remained intact.

​"I will crawl up from this mud," Nikolai promised himself. "One by one your fortresses will fall, and I myself will drag you down from that throne."

​The tent's fabric door suddenly opened. Torin re-entered in a hurry, his face extremely pale and panicked. He was holding a small copper tube commonly used to send carrier pigeon messages.

​"Commander! There is a secret message that was just intercepted by our scout soldiers at the western border!" Torin exclaimed out of breath.

​Nikolai turned calmly, unaffected by his subordinate's panic. "A message from whom?"

​Torin opened the copper tube cap with trembling hands, then pulled out a small scroll of paper bound in black silk thread. He handed the paper to Nikolai with an increasingly tense expression.

​"This message was sent using a special magic pigeon belonging to the palace guardian faction," Torin said in a suppressed voice. "Its content is not just an order to slaughter us, but there is something else far worse!"

​Nikolai received the small paper scroll and unknotted it slowly. His eyes scanned the lines of very distinctive handwriting on top of the paper. The torchlight inside the tent highlighted Nikolai's features that suddenly turned dark.

​"What is its content, Commander?" asked Torin, who could no longer hold back his curiosity.

​Nikolai raised his head, staring at Torin with a sharp and cold look.

​"Isolde didn't just order our execution," Nikolai said in a voice capable of freezing anyone's blood. "She is sending a force of Ice Executioners to this place to harvest the heart of every soldier in this camp as sacrificial material for the next ritual!"