Battle Rage

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--- Damian's POV ---

I stepped out of the shadows behind my father, in the command tent, just as I'd dreamed. "I will begin preparations, master." Titus bowed.

"Hello father." I said calmly.

He turned, surprised. "That was quick. Perfect. Let's-... Son?"

"Yes, father?" I asked, and looked at the map.

"Do I smell... Heat? From your chest?" He asked slowly.

"... Yes, father."

He smiled. "I'd love to meet her."

"Him." I said evenly, and moved the token that represented our left flank forward, then placed a token that represented archers on the cliffs.

He slowly blinked. "Oh. Alright. Then him."

"You will, once this war is over." I promised.

He nodded. "Good. Now. This is-"

"I honestly don't care, father." I interrupted him for the first time since I was a petulant child. "I want this war over before my heart fire grows cold and leaves only embers. I will decimate the enemy myself if necessary." I said, and stabbed a dagger into the map through the token that meant 'enemy leaders encampment'.

He blinked slowly again, meaning he was thinking. "I see... Then, I will make this quick. Meet Richard Grayson, an ally of ours from New York."

I looked up. "Hello dick. Father, we were roommates. I know him better than you do."

He nodded, pleasantly surprised. "Alright. Also Drake is present, of course, he leads his fathers armies. Gunther refused to attend. He says he feels too old for war."

I shrugged. "Drake."

He nodded, all the annoying laughter gone from his eyes. He knew this was a war, not a game. "Damian." He replied.

Father nodded. "And next is an old friend of mine, your sister Gwen's honor guard. I'm slightly wary to take her away from Gwen, but she can handle herself well enough. This is Mira, I'm sure you remember her."

I looked at the woman briefly. "I remember breaking her hand. She held a grudge."

Her fist snaked out and whacked the back of my skull, non-damaging. Simply a reminder she didn't 'use to hold' a grudge, she 'held one even now.'

"You earned that punch, Damian." He said. "There are a few others, but-"

"My king!!! News!!! The Prince of New Persia, Raksamha has returned to his fathers side!!!" A courier sprinted into the tent.

I threw a dagger into his throat as he pulled a poisoned dagger, not a letter. "Message received, Prince Raksamha... Message received... Send a reply, father. With our fastest runner. Don't expect him to survive. Tell them that Damian Acadian has returned to the front. And they are due a reckoning." I said.

He nodded. "I agree. Mira? Summon a lower class. Maybe a wind demon. That should give them some trouble."

She nodded and snapped her fingers, and one appeared, taking the message and the poisoned dagger from the dead assassin, sprinting off into the night with the speed of... Well, the wind.

"Keep them off balance, Mira. Relentless assassins. Allow them no sleep, no rest. I want them beaten before they ever step onto the battleground." I said mercilessly.

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