I Built a Beast Empire After Reincarnation-Chapter 38: The March of War

Far to the west of Greystone, deep within the heart of the fortified city of Stonewatch, war preparations were well underway.

Prince Varion sat upon an obsidian throne inside a lavish but shadowed war chamber. Clad in regal crimson robes with golden serpent emblems coiled around his cuffs, he observed a massive map of Aerion unfurled across the war table. His eyes—narrow, calculating, and cold—rested on a single dot to the far east.

Greystone.

"So," he muttered, tracing his gloved finger over the mark, "the boy who dared to resist. A mere city-lord with delusions of grandeur... and yet, he defeated the Tide scouts and humiliated my envoy."

Behind him, Lord Agram knelt—tall, armored in plated black and silver steel, and bearing the sigil of a chained lion. Agram was the Warhound of Stonewatch, feared for razing entire towns without remorse. With his balding head and scarred face, he was the embodiment of brutality and precision.

"My Prince," Agram said, voice low and gravelly, "say the word, and Greystone will burn before the week is out."

Prince Varion stood, eyes glowing with a glint of hatred. "Burn it. Salt the ground. Kill all but the blacksmiths and miners. The ore belongs to me. Lucas Carter will learn what happens to those who reject royal command."

Agram bowed. "As you command."

He turned, exiting the chamber. Outside, three generals awaited him in the training fields of Stonewatch: Darion Bragg, already bandaged and grim-faced from his previous defeat; General Corven, the Beastmaster of the West, known for leading armies of trained war beasts; and General Nera Valen, the Silver Fang, a master archer and tactician whose arrows had claimed the lives of ten thousand enemies.

Corven smirked the moment he saw Darion.

"Back from your playdate with the cub, Darion?" he sneered. "I thought you’d at least take his arm before crawling back."

Darion’s jaw tightened. "He wasn’t normal. His power came from something else."

"Excuses from a beaten dog," Nera said coolly as she inspected her curved twin blades. "You were sent to scare him, not return with tail tucked."

"He has a skill. A powerful one," Darion said. "His beasts—one of them radiated a legendary aura. And his fusion technique... it wasn’t recorded in any known combat registry."

Corven chuckled. "Then you just made it easier for us. If he thinks he’s powerful, he’ll stand his ground. Makes him easier to crush."

Lord Agram arrived at the center of the field, his eyes blazing with purpose. "Silence. Enough bickering. We march within the hour. Two thousand strong. Beast riders, siege beasts, archers, and foot soldiers. Prince Varion wants Greystone turned to rubble. No survivors save for the ones with knowledge of the mines."

The generals saluted. Even Darion, despite the ridicule, stood tall.

Agram continued. "Our target has defensive terrain, but they are green. Their leader is bold, yes, but untested in full war. We will arrive in five days. Prepare your beasts, train your companies, and ensure your elites are ready. No mercy. No retreat."

Outside the castle, a sea of soldiers began to form. Two thousand strong—infantry, cavalry, siege units, and beastmasters with monstrous companions—assembled under the banner of Stonewatch. The black-and-silver crest of Lord Agram fluttered against the overcast sky. The air was thick with the scent of oil, steel, and anticipation.

Lord Agram stood atop a raised platform, flanked by his generals. His voice boomed through the magically-enhanced horns:

"Warriors of Stonewatch! The time has come to crush the arrogance of Greystone! A city of pretenders sits upon riches they do not deserve. We march not for blood alone—but for destiny!"

A roar of approval thundered from the army.

The next few days were thunderous with movement. The army of Stonewatch, a monstrous war machine of metal, leather, and claws, surged across the plains. Banners flew high, red with golden chains. Siege weapons rolled behind lines of infantry, and war drums pounded an unrelenting march.

Darion, though quiet, rode atop his great eagle again, wounded but healed through potions and rest. Still, the sting of humiliation pushed him forward.

Each evening around the fire, the generals mocked Darion’s loss. Nera told the story like a campfire tale to scare recruits. Corven laughed heartily, calling Lucas "the orphan prince of rocks."

Darion took it all, silently sharpening his blade. He would not forget the flash of Lucas’s beast-fusion armor or the way Zephyra stared down his eagle.

But there was one more pressing issue...

Darion slipped away during the third night to speak privately with Lord Agram.

"My Lord," Darion said, bowing low. "I have a request."

Agram didn’t look away from his war plans. "Speak."

"Should we kill Lucas... I ask to take his gauntlets. The fused ones."

Agram glanced up, raising an eyebrow. "For revenge?"

"For understanding. I’ve never seen such a weapon. It could give us an edge beyond this campaign."

Agram considered, then nodded once. "If you redeem yourself in this battle, the gauntlets are yours."

Darion bowed deeply. "Thank you, my lord."

...

As the army marched on, the horizon began to change. The lush fields gave way to rising stones and cliffs—the domain of Greystone.

Back in Greystone, unaware of the approaching storm, Lucas stood atop the highest watchtower, looking out over his bustling city. The walls were being reinforced. New forges glowed bright, smoke rising like banners of promise. Archers trained with Elira, their formations tighter and deadlier. The militia moved in precision, Kaela barking orders.

Behind him, Angel chimed softly.

{Angel}:

[System Alert: Enemy Army Detected. Distance: 72 miles. Estimated Time of Arrival: 5 days.]

Lucas narrowed his eyes.

"Then the real test begins."

He descended from the tower and called a council. Ilyra, Kaela, Elira, Malrick, and key commanders gathered around the war table.

"We don’t have much time," Lucas began. "Stonewatch is coming—two thousand strong, maybe more. Lord Agram leads them."

Gasps and murmurs rippled through the room.

"This will be unlike the Tide scouts. We face war-trained soldiers, siege weapons, and beasts bred for blood. But we also have something they don’t. Unity. Purpose. Innovation."

He pointed to the newly drawn battle map. "Kaela, you’ll train the outer guard. Elira, the high grounds and ranged defense. Malrick, coordinate supplies and fortify our inner ring. Ilyra, we’ll need siege-breaking weapons and armor for every soldier who can stand."

Everyone nodded solemnly.

Lucas’s voice rose. "I will stand on the front lines with you. Not behind. Not above. With you. Greystone will not fall. Not while I breathe."

They saluted in unison.

Lucas turned to the window, watching smoke rise from the forges and drills echo from the training grounds.