(KOTG) Chapter 9: Journey Towards Vaelgor's Maw, The Signal That Starts The Battle!

Thron clung tightly to Kyvareth's hair, his heart pounding as the wind roared past him. He had never moved this fast in his life—not in a car, not on a roller coaster, and definitely not while dangling off a giant woman's shoulder.

"AHHHHH!" he yelled, his voice nearly ripped from his throat by the sheer speed at which they moved.

Kyvareth and her warriors sprinted across the vast open plains like living storms, their strides so powerful they left deep craters in the earth behind them. The sheer force of their movements sent massive gusts of wind rippling outward, bending the tall grass and shaking the ground.

Thron had never seen anything like it. Back home, skyscrapers were the biggest things he had ever known—but here, the women around him were skyscrapers, and they moved with an impossible grace and speed that defied all logic.

His entire body rattled as he desperately held onto the strands of Kyvareth's hair, his fingers burning from the effort. Even though she was clearly going slower than the others to accommodate him, it still felt like he was barely hanging on.

"I'M GONNA FALL!" he shouted.

Without missing a step, a massive hand closed around him, shielding him from the wind. Kyvareth's fingers curled gently around his body, holding him securely in her palm.

Thron gasped, finally able to breathe again as he was no longer subjected to the relentless rushing air. He looked up and met Kyvareth's eyes, which were sparkling with amusement.

"You're safe, your majesty," she said, a small smirk playing on her lips. "We're almost there."

Thron exhaled heavily. "You could have warned me before going full-speed jet engine on me."

Kyvareth let out a soft chuckle. "And miss the fun of watching you panic?"

Thron scowled but didn't argue. He was just relieved to be held steady. "Where exactly is there?" he asked, trying to regain some sense of control.

Kyvareth's expression became serious. "We're heading to Vaelgor's Maw—a massive canyon that forms a natural barrier between Vorshalda and Vytharion. It's the only real passage their forces can use to reach our lands."

Thron frowned. "So they have to come through it?"

Kyvareth nodded. "Exactly. Which means all we have to do is catch them before they get through."

Her gaze softened slightly as she looked down at him again. "Do me a favor, your majesty."

Thron blinked. "Uh... sure?"

She lifted him onto her shoulder, setting him down carefully. "Stay close to me." Her voice was firm but tinged with something else—concern. "I don't want you hurt."

Thron hesitated for a moment, surprised by the sincerity in her words. He nodded. "I'll stay close."

Satisfied, Kyvareth turned her attention back to the journey ahead.

——

Minutes later, they crested the final hill, and the full view of Vaelgor's Maw sprawled out before them.

Thron's breath hitched in his throat.

The canyon was massive—a yawning chasm that stretched endlessly across the horizon, its cliffs jagged and steep. It was easily hundreds, maybe thousands, of feet deep, its winding paths and towering rock formations creating a maze-like landscape below. Even from up here, Thron could tell just how vast and ancient this place was.

Kyvareth exhaled beside him. "Vytharion's kingdom lies just beyond this canyon."

Before Thron could process that information, Lysera strode to the front of the formation, her every movement exuding command.

"All units," she called, her voice sharp as steel, "spread out and search every inch of that canyon. Find the intruders. The moment you spot them, send the signal."

The warriors stood at attention and shouted in unison, "Yes, Commander!"

Then, without hesitation, they leapt.

The sheer force of their takeoff sent shockwaves through the ground, nearly knocking Thron off Kyvareth's shoulder. He watched in sheer awe as the warriors soared through the air like living missiles, their enormous bodies casting massive shadows over the canyon below.

They descended with earth-shaking force, landing in different parts of the canyon, their impacts sending tremors through the landscape.

Thron let out a low whistle. "Gotta admit, that was impressive."

Kyvareth smirked. "They've trained for centuries."

Lysera, arms folded, stared down at the canyon. "Now," she said coolly, "we wait for the signal."

Thron looked up at her. "Signal?"

Lysera didn't respond.

With nothing else to do, Thron decided to strike up a conversation. Flashing a small grin, he asked, "So, Lysera, what's your story? What got you into the whole 'giant warrior commander' business?"

She finally turned her gaze toward him, her expression unreadable. "I have always been a warrior."

"...And?"

"That is enough."

Thron raised an eyebrow. "That's it? No childhood dreams of becoming a baker or something?"

She didn't smile. "I exist to protect my people. To ensure no enemy crosses into our lands." Her gaze lingered on him in a way that made his skin prickle.

Thron frowned. "You say that like I'm one of those enemies."

Lysera remained silent.

Before Thron could press further, a piercing whistle echoed through the canyon, sharp and unmistakable.

Lysera's eyes narrowed. "There's the signal."

Kyvareth tensed beneath him, her muscles coiling like a spring about to release.

"Right," she said.

The hunt was on.