The Luna's beta

THE COST OF VICTORY "Jackson, how was the battle?" The third-ranking chief inquired, strolling towards Jackson. His gaze was a mix of curiosity and concern. Jackson was waiting for the king, the weight of the recent battle heavy on his shoulders. Before he could respond, the grand entrance of the king silenced the hall. Heads bowed in unison as a mark of respect. The king's presence commanded reverence. As he noticed Jackson, King Robert altered his path, making his way towards where he sat. "My great warrior, how was the battle?" he asked, his eyes searching for the truth. Bowing respectfully, Jackson replied, "The battle was fierce, my lord. LABAR kingdom proved formidable, but we emerged victorious. Their king has pledged loyalty to our kingdom and pays homage to you." A smile flickered across the king's face, but it faded as he probed further. "I hope we didn't lose too many soldiers." "We didn't escape unscathed” my lord, Jackson said. Five thousand lives were lost," he uttered, sensing the weight of sorrow in the king's gaze. King Robert retreated to his seat, contemplating the cost of victory. Then, he spoke with a resolute tone, "I want the LABAR king to send food and money to the families of our fallen soldiers for the next five years." The room fell into a hushed silence, the gravity of the king's command sinking in. This decree, a testament to the price paid for triumph, echoed through the grand hall, setting the stage for the challenges and decisions that lay ahead. "My lord," the second rank chief addressed, turning his attention to me, "I want to inquire from our able warrior here how many humans and werewolves fell in the battle of LABAR." Bowing slightly, Jackson responded, "My lord, we lost 3,257 humans and 1,743 werewolves." The second-rank chief's eyes narrowed, his gaze scrutinizing. "Jackson, how could you lose such a significant number of humans as a beta werewolf leading a pack? You must defend the humans and fight against the enemy. LABAR is a small kingdom; it seems excessive to lose that many warriors." Respectfully, Jackson defended himself, "My lord, this is not my first war fought for the kingdom, LABAR kingdom was unusually prepared as if forewarned about our arrival. We were ambushed before we even realized it. All our plans were exposed, and we were attacked from the rear. Fortunately, we prevailed with the strength of our werewolves.” "Your majesty, I don't believe this should be a cause for concern. We have emerged victorious, and our warriors deserve congratulations, not baseless accusations," the third-rank chief interjected. But the second-rank chief persisted, "It's the lives of our people; it should be our priority. I heard that Jackson abandoned his pack to go after a LABAR warrior's alpha. He was self-centred, selfish, and hell-bent on becoming an alpha by any means necessary." Indignant, Jackson refuted, "My lord, that's a lie. I never left my pack." "You did," insisted the second rank chief. "Your majesty, I think Jackson should be punished for the losses he caused our kingdom," one chief proposed. "Yes, he must be punished," echoed another. Caught off guard, Jackson was rendered speechless. Who had fabricated such claims? “I had never abandoned my pack during the war, and the accusations threatened to unravel the truth and cast a shadow over my loyalty”, Jackson thought to himself. "Silence! Silence!" King Robert's voice cut through the heated exchange. "Have you all forgotten that I am present?" he sternly reminded them. "We are sorry, Your Majesty," came a chorus of apologies from the chiefs. "Today should be a day of rejoicing, not argument. I will investigate the concerns raised about Jackson. Until then, Jackson will be my guard, taking on the role of the palace guard commander," the king declared his gaze firm. He continued, "We have a banquet tonight to celebrate our victory and honour our warriors. Everyone can leave and prepare for the celebration tonight." With that, King Robert rose from his seat, signalling the end of the discussion. The chiefs, chagrined, dispersed, leaving an air of anticipation and tension in the grand hall. Lost in my thoughts, Jackson couldn't shake off the feeling of betrayal lingering from the accusations in the hall. Why would the second rank chief want to see my downfall? “I hadn't done anything wrong," he soliloquized. Recalling the events, Jackson remembered the rivalry before the LABAR kingdom war. The second rank chief had wanted his son, a beta werewolf, to lead the battle, but King Robert chose Jackson over his son. As he pondered, memories flooded back – the countless wars fought alongside King Robert, the mentorship, the ring he gave him on the day of his first full moon transformation. He treated Jackson as his own, seeing him as a son and training him into a formidable warrior. Lost in contemplation, Jackson started making his way out of the hall after the prolonged waiting. Just as he thought the turmoil might subside, a palace guard intercepted him. "His Majesty wants to see you in his chamber," he informed Jackson, his expression unreadable. A wave of uncertainty washed over Jackson. What could the king want, especially after the accusations? Following the guard through the corridors, they bypassed the usual route to the king's chamber. Instead, he led Jackson to the seldom-visited chamber where the king's armour was stored. The heavy door swung open, revealing a sight Jackson had only heard whispers about. The room was a treasure trove of swords, a dazzling display of silver and gold. The king's armour, standing tall, emitted a brilliance that rivalled lightning itself. Jackson stood in the scene, awe-struck by the array of weapons that adorned the walls. Each sword seemed to hold a tale of battles fought and victories won. The room exuded a powerful aura, a testament to the king's legacy. As he marvelled at the splendour, his attention was abruptly drawn to King Robert. There he stood, holding a silver sword that gleamed in the dim light of the room.