<h4>Chapter 679: War ns & Strategies</h4>


    <strong><i>[Third Person].</i></strong>


    The Grand Hall was filled once again the following morning, but this time the atmosphere bore no resemnce to that of the previous gathering. Only tension.


    The council of elders, Royal Alphas, Betas, and high-ranking officials stood assembled, their expressions serious as Draven took his ce. Meredith sat beside him, her presence calm, though her gaze remained sharp and attentive.


    When the hall fell silent, Draven spoke. He informed them of Este’s letter, her demand, and the two-week deadline.


    The reaction was immediate.


    Shock spread first, then murmurs, then ovepping voices as the weight of it settled over them. A war—so soon and with such boldness—was not something any of them had expected to face at this moment.


    Draven allowed the noise for only a moment before raising his hand, and the silence returned. Then, the strategies began.


    Maps were brought forward. Positions were discussed. Defensive lines were drawn and redrawn as the elders and Alphas contributed their experience.


    Soon, the focus shifted—subtly at first, then entirely on Meredith.


    Layers of protection were proposed around her position. Elite guards assigned solely to her. Formations built not just to win the war, but to ensure nothing reached her.


    One Alpha stepped forward. "If Her Majesty is the target, then we fortify around her. Multiple defensive rings. No one gets close."


    Another added, "We can position her at the rear, surrounded at all times—"


    "And double the guard unit assigned to her—"


    "And assign our strongest warriors—"


    Meredith listened to them for a while before stepping in.


    "This war may be one of the bloodiest Stormveil has ever faced," she said, her voice cutting cleanly through the discussion.


    The room quieted as her gaze moved across them. "If most of your strategy revolves around protecting me, then we will lose."


    No one spoke.


    "And when we lose," she continued, "it will not just be me that falls. It will be our soldiers. Our people."


    Her words settled heavily. Then, in a firm tone, she said, "There is no need to centre everything around me. Fight the war as it should be fought."


    A brief silence followed. Then one of the elders frowned slightly. "Your Majesty, with all due respect—you are the primary target."


    "And that is exactly why I cannot be treated as a weakness," Meredith replied.


    Another Alpha stepped forward. "Then perhaps... you should not go to the battlefield at all."


    That suggestion shifted the air. Several nodded in agreement.


    "It would be safer—"


    "We can protect you within the pce—"


    "There is no need for you to expose yourself—"


    Meredith’s expression hardened slightly. "I will not sit here while others fight for me," she said. "I am part of this war. I will fight for my people."


    The firmness in her voice left no room for negotiation.


    The hall fell silent again. This time, no one argued at once. Then another concern arose.


    "If both His Majesty and Her Majesty go to war," one of the elders said carefully, "who will remain to oversee Stormveil?"


    That question lingered. It was valid. The weight of it settled across the room as several others voiced their agreement.


    "The kingdom cannot be left without leadership, especially in uncertain times," another added.


    Draven spoke before the discussion could spiral. "Dennis."


    All eyes turned to Dennis as he stepped forward slightly. "Your Majesty."


    "You will remain in Stormveil," Draven said. "You will oversee the kingdom in our absence."


    Dennis did not hesitate. "Understood."


    There was no reluctance in him, only eptance.


    With that decision made, the tension eased slightly, and the focus returned to strategy, this time, bnced and revised.


    Meredith was no longer the centre of every formation, but neither was she ignored. The ns adjusted, spreading strength across the battlefield instead of concentrating it in one ce.


    And slowly, a war n began to take shape.


    —


    Later that night, the pce had quieted again.


    Meredith stood by the window in Draven’s chamber, her gaze resting on the distant lights of Stormveil. The city looked peaceful, unaware of what wasing.


    Draven stepped up behind her, letting the quiet envelope them before breaking it. "You pushed them hard today."


    Meredith let out a small breath. "They were nning to waste the soldiers on me."


    He didn’t deny it. "They were trying to protect you."


    "And that would have cost us the war."


    Draven stepped closer, his hand resting lightly at her waist. "I don’t like the idea of you being their target," he said quietly.


    Meredith turned slightly, meeting his gaze. "And I don’t like the idea of hiding while you fight."


    A brief pause passed between them. Then she added, more softly, "If Este and her minions areing for me, then I will face them."


    Draven studied her for a moment, then nodded once. "Then we face her together."


    The decision settled between them, firm enough to shape everything that would follow.


    ═════ ??? ═════


    The next days did not pass in idleness.


    Meredith stood once more before her grandmother in the pce grounds,posed but focused.


    A soft breeze moved through the trees, stirring the leaves just enough to create a faint, steady rustle, while sunlight filtered through the branches and scattered across the stone paths.


    It was peaceful, almost deceptively so, considering what loomed ahead.


    "I want to teach you something. Close your eyes," her grandmother said atst.


    Meredith exhaled quietly and did as instructed.


    "Hold yourself steady and let your powerse to you," the olddy continued, her voice calm and even. "Your power responds to your state of mind. If you are restless, it will scatter. If you are focused, it will listen."


    Meredith didn’t answer, but her breathing gradually slowed.


    "Now, don’t reach for it," her grandmother said.


    That sounded counterintuitive.


    "Just stand."


    Meredith did. At first, there was nothing but the wind brushing past her skin. Then, slowly—something else settled.


    A quiet presence beneath her skin, steady and calm, like something that had always been there but rarely noticed.


    "Hold that," her grandmother said.


    Meredith focused, not forcing it, just... keeping it there. The air around her shifted slightly, barely noticeable yet present.


    "Good," the olddy murmured.


    Then, without warning, she flicked her fingers. A sharp pulse of energy moved toward Meredith.


    Meredith felt it. But before she could react, it stopped right in front of her like it had hit something invisible.


    Her eyes snapped open. For a brief second, the air in front of her shimmered faintly, like heat bending light. Then it was gone.


    Meredith blinked. "What... was that?"


    "A shield," her grandmother replied simply.


    Meredith looked at her hands, then around herself, trying to grasp what she had just done. "I didn’t even move."


    "You are not supposed to," the olddy said. "If you wait until an attackes before you react, you are already toote."


    That settled deeper than Meredith expected.


    "Again," her grandmother said.


    This time, Meredith didn’t question it. She closed her eyes, steadied herself, and found that same quiet ce within her again. It came easier now, less distant.


    "Keep it around you like a second skin," the olddy instructed.


    Meredith held it.


    The breeze passed again, but this time, it shifted slightly as it reached her, as though something redirected it without resistance.


    Her grandmother tested her again, and the invisible barrier held.


    Meredith maintained her focus, her control steadier than before, and when she opened her eyes, there was no confusion in them this time.


    "If theye for you, this will give you time to respond," her grandmother exined.


    Meredith nodded faintly. Then, after a moment, she turned to her. "Grandma... help us."


    Her grandmother did not respond immediately, but the stillness in her posture changed.


    "Bring your people," Meredith continued. "You know how serious this is. Even a few of you would make a difference."


    The olddy’s expression remained calm, but when she finally spoke, her answer was immediate.


    "No."


    Meredith’s brows drew together. "Why?"


    "The fae will not be part of this war," her grandmother said, her voice steady and final.


    "But you have seen what’sing," Meredith pressed. "You said it yourself—"


    "That is exactly why we will not be involved," the olddy interrupted gently, though there was no room for argument in her tone.


    "We have done this before, involved ourselves in wars that were not ours." She rested both hands lightly on her walking stick. "And we paid for it."


    There was no emotion in her voice, just truth.


    "We were hunted. Used. Almost erased," she said. "What remains of us exists because we stopped."


    The weight of that settled between them.


    Meredith held her gaze for a moment, then exhaled slowly. "...I understand."


    Her grandmother nodded once.


    "This is your war. Your people. Your fight." Then she lifted her chin slightly. "But you will not face it unprepared."


    Meredith straightened.


    "Come back tomorrow," the olddy said. "We are not done yet."


    Meredith gave a small nod, then turned and started making her way back to the pce.


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