G. Kitsune
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The Soul Reborn: From Silence to Sovereignty Chapter 68
🕑 Added 2025-07-21 17:22:54 +0000 UTCChapter 68: Faith Isn’t a Plan
The next morning it was known that Malhart had disappeared. No official departure message… just gone. As if the shadows themselves had swallowed him whole.
None of the servants remembered seeing him leave. The gate guards had no record of passage.
It was obvious he was feeling uneasy being in such an environment. He must have felt the noose tightening with constant surveillance on him at all times.
Just how in the world did he get away from them?
He must have realized enchanted messages couldn’t get out of the North, so he turned to writing instead. Somehow, he figured out even those were being intercepted.
We all knew he was running straight to the king, and sometime in the near future the South would know the current state of the North.
I watched as Noah stood by the window, arms folded, watching the gray mist of the morning hang low over the mountains.
“Eventually, the king will hear everything.” I said it just loud enough for Noah to hear.
He turned towards me, calm as always. “Then we prepare for the storm before it arrives.”
Noah walked over to where I sat comfortably on the couch in our chambers. He leaned down, gently taking both of my hands in his.
“Coldmere could hold out for a while against an attack. Not easily, but we’re better trained and more equipped because of the constant monsters we have to subdue every year.”
I couldn’t help feeling nervous with war becoming a very real possibility. Of course I had my greatest protector right next to me, but it still didn’t stop the anxious feeling in my heart.
My eyes watched him with those broad shoulders and the confident grin he would always show me if I was feeling insecure.
“Noah”
He looked up, still kneeling as he tried to support me in any way he could. “Yes?”
I tilted my head. “If you had to judge your own strength honestly… how many men do you think you could take on in open battle? Alone.”
Noah was taken aback by my question.
Then he gave a faint smile. “What kind of men?”
“Soldiers,” I said, “the usual kind. Trained, sure, but not elite.”
He gave a slight shrug. “If I went all out… I could probably take down a few hundred in under thirty seconds.”
I choked slightly on my tea. “I’m sorry… what?”
Noah continued casually, like we were discussing the weather.
“But that’s only against standard soldiers,” he said. “If they were comparable in skill… a knight-captain or advanced spell blade. I could probably hold my own against five, maybe six at once.”
I blinked at him in disbelief, finally understanding just how much of a monster I married. “So… you’re casually telling me we’ve got a literal one-man army as the ruler of Coldmere.”
“I’m one of the strongest in the kingdom, yes,” he said without a hint of pride, just fact. “But we’re not without others who can stand at least close to that level. Bors, Kellan, and some of my shadow guard are all powerful enough to hold their own against me.”
He reached up and brushed one hand across my cheek.
“We’re stronger than they’ve realized.”
My arms lifted instinctively with no command or thought.
Noah seemed to understand my intentions.
He leaned forward and embraced me, careful around my belly, one arm steady across my back, the other gently supporting my side.
I kissed his cheek, letting my head rest against his.
“You know,” I whispered, “it’s really nice having such a powerful husband.”
The chuckle from Noah that followed gave me the urge to kiss him again; it was so attractive.
“It’s nice being married to the only woman who might one day be more dangerous than I am,” he said, a sly smile tugging at his lips.
I smiled. “Then I guess we’re unstoppable.”
We stayed like that for a while; tucked into one another, warm in the soft light of the morning, wrapped in silence that felt more like armor than peace.
I should’ve stayed quiet, but my mind always wanders.
My body snuggled more into his chest. I tilted my head slightly and asked, “Noah?”
“Hmm,” His voice was still half-lulled, lips brushing my hair.
“Let’s say… in one of those old stories or those dramas with kingdoms at war. How would they break a castle like this? What kind of siege weapons would they use in this world?”
He shifted just a little, enough to look down at me, catching my gaze in his. “Planning an invasion?”
I smirked. “Maybe, it depends on how irritating the next envoy is, but seriously, I was wondering for our own safety.”
Noah gave a laugh and kissed the top of my head. “Well… there are a few ways.”
I listened as his voice turned more thoughtful… what he would use when talking with his men about strategy.
“You can try to starve a castle out by cutting off the supplies. But that takes months, and we’re self-sufficient here, so it’d take a siege army and perfect timing to break us.”
“Okay,” I murmured. “What about the kind of weapons they would use in the actual siege?”
“Siege towers, battering rams… maybe trebuchets or magical artillery. But this fortress is carved from stone and backed by a mountain. Without dragons or divine-class sorcery, it would take weeks of nonstop bombardment to put even a crack in the outer wall.”
I couldn't help but still frown at that. “So… they’d need an overwhelming force?”
He nodded. “It’s usually someone on the inside that determines how a castle siege turns out.”
My blood ran cold for a second. I couldn’t help but think of some maid being out there plotting our demise or possibly someone else I don’t even see.
Noah wrapped me in his arms, tightly feeling my unease.
“That’s why no one enters these walls unless they’re trusted, trained, and watched. You protect a fortress from the outside just as much as from the inside.”
He kissed my cheek a few times, then once on the lips.
“Don’t worry, Seraphina. This place would take a god’s hammer to fall, and they don’t worship gods like that anymore.”
“This reminds me of the Second World War in my last life,” I murmured, still resting my head against Noah’s chest.
He remained still, but I sensed a subtle shift in his focus. His heartbeat stayed steady, yet I could feel his mind quicken. “Go on,” he said, his voice laced with curiosity.
"You see… there was this country called Germany. They were committing horrific acts, trying to wipe out an entire race. The crimes were so monstrous the world had no choice but to respond. Then they overreached and invaded a massive country called Russia."
Noah looked down at me, intrigued. "Did they succeed?"
"Not even close," I said with a tired laugh. "It was winter. One of the coldest in recorded history. The Germans weren’t prepared. They lacked proper clothing, supplies were cut off, and food was scarce. The Russians used the land, weather, and time itself as weapons. The cold did half the killing."
He fell silent for a moment.
"They starved?" he asked.
"A large number starved, others froze, and some endured both. Eventually, the invading army had no choice but to retreat, but by then, the damage was irreversible. Russia didn’t win through brute strength alone—they endured, outlasted, and in doing so, they crushed their enemy."
Noah’s fingers gently traced small circles along my shoulder with a thoughtful look on his face.
“You’re saying…” he began slowly before I interrupted.
“We could do something similar here,” I said, my voice growing sharper. “Let them march north and stretch their supplies too thin. If we lure them deep enough into our terrain that they don’t understand, into cold they’re not trained to survive, we can break them without ever meeting head-on.”
I looked up at him.
“Then we strike when they're weakest. No need to sacrifice our people when the land can do the killing. Your shadows can sabotage from behind while we fortify the front and seal the North with the mountain paths.”
He stared at me in that way he did when he was both impressed and in the mood to take this to our bed.
“You think like a general,” he said softly.
"No," I corrected. "I think like someone who wants to survive. I’ve seen what happens when monsters are given too much ground. Defensive war favors us, not only because of the terrain; we understand it, and they don't."
He exhaled slowly.
“We’ll start drafting a plan,” he murmured. “I’ll speak to my men about setting up traps along the southernmost terrain. We don’t waste a single soldier on offense unless we know the enemy is starving and freezing.”
“Good,” I said softly. “I want them to know what it feels like to freeze under the weight of a world they tried to control.”
We slept wrapped in each other’s warmth that night, something that both of us very much looked forward to.
Noah left early the next morning, but not without pressing a few soft kisses to my lips. He always looked so heartbroken when we parted, a look I held in my memory and smiled at until I saw him again.
I was seated in the sunroom when Livia returned with her usual quiet grace, carrying a fresh tray of tea and sweets, with a stack of morning letters tucked under one arm.
Livia said nothing at first. She set down the tea, poured me a cup, and quietly took her place at my side. I often ask her to sit, but she rarely does. More often than not, she remains standing, as though always braced for something to happen.
Even though I tried to show a proud image in front of Noah, she was different. I would always use her as an ear to speak my fears. It’s not that I don’t do this with Noah, but I like to try working through it before I worry him.
“Livia,” I said with a voice quieter than usual. “Can we talk?”
She turned to me, instantly alerted, “Of course.”
I stared down at my belly, resting both hands atop it as the weight of everything settled over me. It wasn’t just about my child but the future in general.
“I’m scared.”
She blinked in obvious surprise, “What about?”
“The impending war, Lyra, how it’s all coming at once,” I took a steady breath. “What if I go into labor while Noah’s away? What if he’s out fighting when I need him more than ever?”
Livia didn’t give an immediate response, knowing how I am; there was probably more of a rant to come.
“What if something goes wrong?” I whispered. “What if, after all the promises, the power, and the planning, I still lose her or she loses me?”
My voice cracked at the end, emotions starting to rush out.
I swallowed hard and steadied myself.
“I’m probably taking safety for granted right now with everything going so well. How I perfectly adapted to this body and for her soul to still inhabit it. I just assumed it meant the rest of this life would go smoothly. That it was fated to happen this exact way.”
My chest felt tight as I looked up at Livia’s face.
“But faith isn’t a plan. Just like how I preach to everyone else.”
No higher power was going to descend from the heavens to help me. I doubted that very much. But part of me still wanted to believe this life was meant for a happy ending, or at the very least, that I could fight to make that wish come true.
After I stopped speaking, Livia made her move, kneeling down right next to me. She reached out for my hand with a firm grip; it was something I probably needed because I felt better the second she did it.
“Then let’s make a plan,” she said simply.
I exhaled, shaky but grateful.
This pregnancy has been taken for granted up to this point, thinking nothing would go wrong. I don’t even have a dedicated doctor, only seeing one once or twice to make sure I was pregnant and everything was alright.
“I want you to find the best doctor in the North,” I said. “Someone that has delivered hundreds of babies, no apprentices or herbal guesswork—I want experience. When I reach the ninth month, he needs to be here. Not in a nearby town or even a mile away, right here!”
“I’ll find one,” Livia said, without hesitation. “I’ll keep him under watch like a national treasure.”
A giggle escaped my lips.
“Every room on this floor needs to be ready. In case something goes wrong. Hot water, linens, and midwives on call. I don’t want any last-minute scrambles.”
“It’ll be ready,” she said. “Weeks before you need it.”
While Livia often joked with me or made remarks about my more reckless ideas, she always knew when to stop and focus on taking care of me.
“I’m sorry I keep dragging you into all of this,” I murmured. Even though it was her job, I still felt guilty making someone take care of me.
Livia shook her head. “You’re not dragging me through anything I wouldn’t have done myself.”
She gave me a genuine smile, not the endless smirk she usually shows.
“You’re putting faith in me, and that means something.”
I squeezed her hand, my throat tightening.
“Thank you, Livia.”
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Marek Gwalt
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