One more piece removed from the board - K142

In the days leading up to all of that, things felt different. It was a strange atmosphere. Not dangerous, but silent. I spent more time adjusting my formations, healing my troops, and observing than actually doing anything. Everything seemed normal. No one was being attacked, there were no signs of war, no one appeared to be in a hurry.

That kind of silence has always bothered me, and to this day I don’t know exactly why.

When a war truly begins, you can hear it weeks in advance. Alliances start to move, messages begin to circulate, civilians relocate to safer regions. But not this time. Everything looked normal, almost too normal. And the more I watched, the more I realized that this calm meant my enemies were growing stronger in the shadows.

Castles increasing in power. Farms far too active, with hundreds of men working nonstop. People stockpiling resources, training troops, getting everything ready while pretending nothing was happening. The war had not started yet, but it was already being assembled piece by piece.

I began paying close attention to routes and to who was positioned near whom. That was when patterns started to repeat. Always the same castles, always in the same regions, always protected, always full of resources. Players switching alliances strategically.

Those castles were not the front line. They were not built to fight the war itself. They were meant to sustain the war once it truly began. Supplies that would feed men for weeks and allow troops to be healed at a much faster pace.

If the war started with all of that intact, it would last for weeks. And I knew that if I let it slide now, there would be no point in complaining later.

That was the moment when Kingdom 142 entered my list of targets.

Two castles, strategically positioned, full of resources and troops. They were not there by chance. They were not small players struggling to survive. They were farms, key pieces of a much larger machine. Attacking there would not be simple, but leaving them untouched was not an option either.

I knew that once I entered that kingdom, there would be no turning back. The main alliance, 0ch, was protected by Minity, a powerful cavalry player who could end me in a single strike. Even so, I chose to deal with the problem now rather than face something far worse later.

My men were in position, the order was given, and the first attack was launched.

The first target was Lady Faye. The first attack was massive.

The castle had everything inside it. All types of troops mixed together, the wall completely full, but no truly solid formation. Too much packed in and very little synergy. There were red weapons, yes, but without base attack they made little difference without a properly organized defense.

When the report came back, it was clear that the fight was completely unbalanced. Nearly 8.5 million troops fell there. I lost just over 38 thousand men, almost all T3. It was a massive blow for them and a minimal cost for me.

Lady Faye was in pieces, but millions of soldiers were still hiding behind those walls. Without hesitation, I launched another attack to finish what I had started earlier.

In the second attack, the difference became even clearer.

More than 10 million troops were eliminated, part T3, part T4. A castle that could no longer reorganize was now reduced to ashes. I lost just over 23 thousand men, a cost that was almost negligible.

At that moment, the first target stopped being a reliable support. It still existed on the map, but it no longer had the strength to fulfill the role it was meant to play. That piece was no longer on the board.

The warning had been delivered. But the next target, Lady Faye’s husband, was still standing. I studied the map before making any decision. Things were calm, which gave me the confidence to move forward.

My men were ready, and once again I gave the signal to advance.

The second castle was not much different. A lot of mixed troops, a full wall, fortifications intact. Perhaps they believed no one would go that far before the war truly began, and that confidence deceived them.

On the first impact, the wall collapsed. All fortifications were destroyed. 7.8 million troops were left behind. I lost fewer than 40 thousand men, once again almost all T3. A cheap attack.

It was a victory too big to ignore. Even so, I knew that was not the end yet.

Kratos was in pieces, but millions of soldiers were still hiding behind those walls. Without hesitation, I launched another attack to finish what I had started earlier.

The second attack put an end to that invasion.

More than 8.5 million troops were eliminated.18 thousand losses on my side. The castle was left empty.

What struck me the most were not the reports or the battle numbers. It was the silence that followed.

No provocations. No sharp replies. Movement stopped, supply routes vanished from the map. Everything that had been prepared simply came to a halt.

They understood. The war had not officially begun yet, but there, our enemy had already lost an important part of it.

In the end, I did not need to continue. The objective had been achieved. Those castles would no longer sustain anyone. That mechanism had been broken before it even started to turn.

“Sometimes, winning a war is not about destroying everything. It is about knowing which pieces must be neutralized.”

When the war truly begins, it will not look like what was being planned.

And that is what makes this story different.