Chapter 78: The Turning Point

As Elara's forces retreated to regroup, the battlefield quieted for a brief moment. The air was thick with smoke and the stench of blood, the ground littered with the fallen. But this was no victory—only a pause before the storm intensified.

"We can't hold them back much longer," Marcus said, his voice low as they gathered in the command tent. "Their numbers are greater than we anticipated, and their commanders are stronger than any we've faced before."

Elara wiped the sweat from her brow, her mind racing as she studied the map laid out before them. "We knew this wouldn't be easy," she said, her voice steady but laced with exhaustion. "But we still have the advantage of magic and terrain. We can use that to turn the tide."

Garrick strode into the tent, his armor battered and his face smeared with dirt and ash. "The decoy worked, but barely," he said, sinking into a chair. "Their response was quicker than we expected. We've lost a lot of good fighters."

"We can't afford another mistake like that," Marcus added. "Next time, we need to strike at their heart—at the commanders."

Elara's mind drifted to the battlefield. The Ancients' commanders had been elusive, their dark magic warping the battlefield, and their soldiers fought with the same tireless determination. It was as if the Ancients themselves were feeding off the chaos.

"What about the artifact of water?" Marcus asked, drawing her from her thoughts. "We haven't used its full power yet. If we can harness it—"

"No," Elara interrupted, her voice firm. "We don't fully understand its power yet. It could be more dangerous than helpful."

Marcus looked unconvinced but didn't argue.

"I've been thinking," Garrick said, breaking the tension. "The commanders are their key. If we take them out, the rest of their forces will falter. They're the ones keeping the army bound together."

Marcus nodded. "Agreed. But they're protected by dark magic. We'll need to get close."

Elara considered this. "Then we'll need a team—small, fast, and able to strike quickly before they have a chance to react."

"I'll go," Garrick said immediately, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I know their tactics, and I can lead the strike."

Marcus frowned. "It's too dangerous. You'll be walking into a trap."

"It's a risk I'm willing to take," Garrick replied.

Elara looked at him, her heart heavy with the weight of the decision. She knew Garrick was right—the commanders were the key to breaking the Ancients' hold on the battlefield. But sending him on such a dangerous mission was a gamble she wasn't sure she was willing to take.

"We'll need more than just speed," she said finally. "We'll need a diversion."

Marcus leaned forward, studying the map. "What if we use their own tactics against them? Draw them into a trap."

Garrick nodded, catching on. "We could lure them into the pass—just like they did to us. But this time, we'll be ready."

Elara thought about the terrain. The narrow pass could work in their favor, but it would be a dangerous gamble. "If we do this, we'll need to move fast. And we'll need to coordinate perfectly."

Marcus looked at Elara. "You'll lead the main force, keep their army occupied. Garrick's team will go after the commanders. If we can take them out, their forces will crumble."

Garrick stood, determination blazing in his eyes. "Then it's settled. We strike at dawn."

Elara nodded, her heart pounding. The plan was risky, but it was their best shot. If they could take out the commanders, they could finally turn the tide of this war.

As the meeting concluded, Garrick lingered behind, his gaze steady on Elara. "Are you sure about this?" he asked quietly.

"I have to be," she replied, meeting his gaze. "We don't have any other choice."

Garrick's eyes softened, and for a moment, the weight of their shared history hung between them. "I won't let you down."

"I know you won't," Elara said, her voice softer than before. "Just come back to me."

He smiled—a small, fleeting smile that held a promise deeper than words could convey. Then he turned and left the tent, disappearing into the night to prepare for the battle ahead.

Elara stood alone for a moment, staring at the map, her heart heavy with the knowledge of what was to come. Tomorrow would be the turning point. One way or another, the fate of Velarys would be decided.

She took a deep breath and stepped outside, the cool night air washing over her as she looked out at the camp, the soldiers preparing for battle. She knew the cost of what they were about to do, but she also knew it was necessary.

As the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, Elara steeled herself for the battle ahead.

This was the moment everything had led to.