NOVEL NEXT 100. Fragments of Hope
What do they do?
Tucker didn't know. None of the men around him knew. Everyone was speechless, and for everything to fall apart so easily… so quickly… was unbelievable. The roar of the cannons had faded, but their hearts were still pounding in their chests, trembling from the shock. Morale had plummeted, and even Brian was at a loss for words. His comrade, who usually remained fearless in the most dire situations.
He tightly clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white. Sweat trickled down the side of his face, and a weight unlike anything else was pulling down on his heart. From where he stood, he could tell from a distance that the Empire's forces were still advancing. The fight hadn't stopped inside the main gates, and their comrades were still resisting.
They needed to sally out. To march towards the inner gates while there was still a chance for them to turn the tide of battle. But… to do such a thing would be suicide. There were hundreds of enemies waiting on the other side to break through. Tucker glanced at the knights, and all of them saw the same thing as him. They stood in rigid silence, gripped by the same truth. Yet none dared to speak.
"Captain… what should we do?"
The voice caused everyone to turn their heads. They stared at Jones, noticing his troubled expression and shaken voice, and then at Tucker. The young captain met their gaze. He let out a slow breath, adjusting the brim of his worn leather hat.
"I know what we have to do," Tucker said, raising his voice so those on the lower floors could hear. "But you won't like it." He looked directly at Jones, his voice heavy with regret. "We need to sally out, flank the enemy while they're still unprepared."
Even though they understood the reason, none of them wanted to die.
Jones dropped his gaze. "Is there no other option?"
"It's the only way," said Tucker.
"Bullshit!" Nemo slammed his fist against the rails of the staircase. The metal groaned under the strike as the sound echoed throughout the room. "What you're asking is nothing more than suicide!"
"I know," Tucker's voice stayed calm. "But sitting here and doing nothing? We might as well be dead anyway."
Jones quietly stood still, trying to make sense of it all. He stared at his captain while trying to piece together what was happening. His eyes slowly widened in disbelief. "Wait… did you plan this all along?"
Tucker focused on Jones, then scanned the room. He nodded with a heavy heart. "It didn't go exactly as planned, but this was part of it."
Nemo gritted his teeth and stormed forward. "You said our chances of survival would be higher if we listened to you! If we followed your orders!" He snapped, grabbing Tucker by the collar and furiously glared at him. "So why! Why the hell are you sending us to die?"
"Because if we don't, then there'll be nothing left." Tucker steadied his mind and reinforced his composure, gently pushing away Nemo's hand. "Our brothers on the other side will be dead and waiting for the Empire to surround us is pointless. We know they outnumber us, and sitting here would only delay the inevitable."
"And you really think charging out there will change that?" Nemo shot back.
"I do," Tucker said without flinching. "It's better to do something than nothing."
Nemo scoffed and pushed Tucker back. "So what then? You want one of the knights to lead the charge? Some poor bastard that you've already written off like those damn advisors? Are we disposable to you as well?"
"No." Tucker turned away from Nemo and walked towards the staircase. "I'll be the one leading it."
He paused, glancing back over his shoulder. "If you choose to stay here or head back to the storage building, I won't stop you. But if there's one thing you should've learned by now, it's that I've never considered the men who followed me disposable. I'm marching out not because I expect to die. I'm marching out because I still believe we can save our comrades at the gates."
Tucker didn't look at the other soldiers in the area. There were no words to bring them to his side. He knew, with a chilling certainty, that his actions were a slow, deliberate march toward death. But how could he sit back and watch his friends get slaughtered? If they returned to the storage building, then they would be taken as slaves or executed. And if he was going to die, it would be alongside the men he spent months training with.
Stolen novel; please report.
It was a far more fitting end.
But as Tucker descended the stairs, a series of footsteps echoed behind him. He looked over his shoulder and there they were: Jones and the other members of the Thirty-First.
Jones offered a crooked smile. "Nemo's a bit of an ass, but that's just cause he's scared."
"And you're not?" Tucker asked.
"Well, if you asked me before, probably. But now it's just a standard day for the Thirty-First." Jones shrugged and glanced at the other men, who chuckled. "Besides, fighting against overwhelming odds with the best captain in the world? I'll take those odds any day of the week."
The corner of Tucker's lips gently curled upwards as he stepped onto the first floor. "You give me too much credit."
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.
.
"Those fucking idiots…" Nemo bitterly clenched his fists. He watched as the other members of his platoon followed their captain without hesitation. A look mixed with disbelief and anger warred in his eyes.
Their captain was asking them to die. Why couldn't they see that?
"You guys heard Captain Welford," Brian said, stretching his arms with a casual grin. "He always had a way with words. If you want to stay, be my guest, but I'll take my chances with him."
One by one, the knights around him laughed and nodded. Some patted the dust off their armor while others adjusted their capes draped over their shoulders, revealing their pride. The insignia of their order. With a quiet resolve, they stood and began moving towards the stairs.
Nemo kept his gaze on the floor. "You guys can't be serious." He muttered beneath his breath. "You'll die."
"Perhaps, but there's no point in dwelling on it." Brian stared at the trembling young man and smiled. He took out a small envelope from his breast pocket and held it before Nemo. "If you make it out, try to deliver this to my family."
Nemo's eyes fell on the letter—a worn piece of paper that was carefully sealed with a red wax stamp.
"Take it," Brian said, holding it out. "It's the least you can do."
The young man hesitated for a moment, then reached for it. Seeing this, Brian gave a small nod and patted Nemo's shoulder as he passed. "Don't feel bad, kid. We all want to live. But sometimes… you have to choose what matters more."
The knights walked by one after another. Each one left behind something—scraps of paper, sealed letters, folded notes—fragments of hopes and farewells that were written the night before. They were knights of the Everheart Kingdom, bound by the sword master's oath to protect their homeland. Whether Tucker was leading them to victory or death didn't matter anymore.
It was the cause that mattered, and there was nothing more noble than rescuing their comrade's life.
"See you around," one of the knights said, gently patting Nemo's shoulder.
The others did the same. A quiet procession of warriors, each brushing past him while handing over their final words. Nemo couldn't bring himself to look at any of them. The wooden floorboards creaked softly, their echoes softly fading by the second. He kept his gaze fixed on the ground, clutching the growing stack of letters because it was all he could do.
Nemo stood on the third floor alone. His heart ached as he looked out the window, and a part of him wondered if it was really alright to run. Was he a coward for even asking? He didn't know. But he wished for an answer to appear—for a voice, sign, or anything to tell him what to do. Yet no matter how long he waited, the silence swallowed him whole.
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Tucker glanced over his shoulder at the men following closely behind. Nearly all of them had chosen to sally out with him—no speeches, no convincing. Just a silent resolve the moment word spread that he was leading the charge. They fell into formation without hesitation. Several soldiers stepped aside, clearing a path to the massive double oak doors that had been scarred from their battle. All the soldiers had their weapons drawn while awaiting their orders.
"Captain Welford," Brian called out with a grin and raised his hand. "I don't suppose you have a quick debrief of the plan."
"Sadly, I don't believe I have a plan this time," said Tucker with a smile. "I just plan to flank them and cut down as many as I can to get inside the walls."
"Or die trying?" Brian added.
Tucker gave a single nod, causing the other soldiers to grin. "It's the least we can do to return the favor."
"Well, sir, I might have just the thing for you." Wilfred pushed through the crowd, cradling a large crystal in both hands. "It turns out, these bastards were hiding something pretty valuable."
All eyes turned to the crystal. Its deep blue hue mirrored the color of the ocean, and the inscription etched along its surface read Obice Alica Fractione. Tucker's eyes widened. He recognized it immediately. It was a barrier artifact, and judging by the golden rings wrapped around its center, it wasn't just any kind. It was a high-grade artifact that was carefully crafted by the mages of the Avalon Empire.
"How did you get one of those?" Tucker asked.
"We just did a bit of looting while waiting," Wilfred replied, scratching his rough, curly brown hair. "Figured they had to have something valuable in here."
"Excellent work." Tucker smiled as the men prepared their equipment.
A fresh volley of cannon fire rattled through the air with a thunderous roar, shattering the moment. The blasts shook the ground beneath their iron and steel boots, each one a grim reminder of what awaited them outside those doors. The men steadied their resolves and firmly held onto their weapons. Not a single one had fear in their eyes.
Tucker walked towards the massive oak doors, resting his hands against the battered surface. There was no telling how many would survive the upcoming battle—how many would make it through this hell.
But as the sunlight spilled through the cracks in the wall, piercing through the darkness. Tucker felt a strange calm settle in his chest. Whatever came next, he wasn't facing it alone. He had men he trusted—men who chose to stand with him.
And in the darkest days, when hope seemed to be smothered by ash and blood, that was enough.