CHAPTER 324: CHAPTER 324 NATURE

And, of course, Riley’s decision was far from easily accepted by his family.

Aurora’s father, Gaben, was perhaps the fiercest opponent of the idea of bringing his daughter to the forefront of war.

His eyes blazed with anger, his entire body radiating the force of a man who would not yield.

"Are you out of your mind, boy?! If you think you can convince me to let you drag my daughter into this war, you’re sorely mistaken! You’d have to step over my corpse first, because I will never allow such madness!" Gaben bellowed, his voice echoing off the walls.

His hands clenched hard, knuckles whitening, as his gaze bore into Riley like a hammer striking steel.

Riley, on the other hand, stood calm, his posture relaxed, his gaze unwavering.

There was no hesitation in him, no flicker of doubt.

"Fine," he said slowly, each word measured and deliberate.

"Let’s settle this like men, then. Pick your weapon, Gaben. I suppose I’ll have to knock some sense into you first—show you that Aurora is mine now, and that she’s just your daughter."

The tension in the room thickened, a heavy, almost tangible force pressing down on them both.

Gaben’s lips curled into a bitter sneer.

"Ha! The arrogance of youth," he spat. "Don’t blame me if I make my daughter a widow far too soon."

With that, he grabbed his weapon—a long, polished spear, the tip gleaming ominously in the dim light.

He had once been a formidable swordsman, legendary in his prime, but age had begun to erode his reflexes and strength.

The spear, however, gave him reach and leverage, a tool perfected over decades of combat, and one that could easily turn the tide against a younger, overconfident opponent.

"What?"

The room went silent. Every eye was on Riley, stunned beyond belief.

He had not chosen a weapon like Gaben had expected.

Instead, he stood tall and composed, bare fists clenched, facing the seasoned clan leader with a calm, confident smile.

"As a sign of respect to you, the father of my wife, I’ll let you see firsthand how heavy my fists are—far heavier than any weapon," Riley said, his voice steady and almost teasing as he stepped forward.

Each movement was controlled, precise, and radiated unshakable confidence.

Gaben’s eyes narrowed. He hesitated, weighing his options carefully.

As the head of the Osprey Clan, he knew that killing Riley outright—even in anger—would bring ruin to himself and his men.

Yet as a father and a leader, he could not allow his followers to witness any hint of weakness.

Pride and duty warred inside him.

The spear in his hands was his only ally, his experience giving him an edge—but he could not let arrogance or caution falter in front of his men.

"Whoosh!"

With a sharp movement, Gaben swung the spear in a precise arc.

His aim was deliberate, targeting Riley’s side—not enough to kill, but enough to test the young man’s reflexes.

Riley’s reaction was instantaneous.

With a deft kick, he sent the spear clattering to the ground, the metal ringing loudly against the stone floor.

He didn’t pause.

Momentum carried him forward as he closed the distance, spinning with fluid grace that belied his youth.

Then, with precision honed from countless hours of training, Riley struck.

Thud!

His fist connected squarely with Gaben’s face.

The force of the blow sent the older man staggering backward, dazed and disoriented.

Blood trickled from his lip, his vision blurred, and for a moment, the seasoned warrior looked every bit his age.

Gasps echoed through the room. No one had expected this.

Gaben, a man whose name commanded respect across the clans, had been struck down by a young man with nothing but bare hands.

Riley didn’t stop. He moved with the controlled speed of a predator, circling Gaben like a hawk, fists ready to strike at any opening.

Each step he took radiated confidence and strength.

Gaben shook his head, trying to clear the fog. His grip on the spear tightened.

Years of experience, decades of battle, and countless enemies faced—it had all led to this moment.

And yet, here he was, being outmaneuvered by a younger, stronger, and faster opponent.

He lunged, thrusting the spear forward in a combination of force and experience.

Riley leaned back, narrowly evading the tip, and countered with a spinning backfist that clipped Gaben’s shoulder.

The older man stumbled again, his body unsteady, struggling to regain balance.

"You... boy," Gaben hissed through gritted teeth, fury and disbelief warring in his voice. "Do you even understand what you’re doing?"

"I understand perfectly," Riley replied calmly, stepping closer. "I’m proving to you—and everyone here—that Aurora is my woman. And no spear, no experience, no pride of age can change that."

With a sudden burst of energy, Riley struck again, delivering a precise combination of punches that forced Gaben back further.

The older man’s legs shook, his body swaying like a tree in a storm.

He tried to parry, tried to counter, but Riley was relentless—faster, stronger, and smarter than any foe he had faced in years.

Finally, Gaben stumbled, collapsing lightly to one knee, his spear clattering across the floor.

Sweat ran down his face, his chest heaving as he struggled to regain composure.

For the first time, the clan leader felt the full weight of defeat—not in death, but in sheer skill and determination.

Riley stood over him, fists lowered, but eyes blazing with intensity.

The room was silent, all eyes fixed on the scene.

The younger generation had not just faced the elder—they had dominated.

And in that moment, it was clear to everyone present: Riley was no ordinary man.

He was a force to be reckoned with, and he would not back down, no matter the cost.

Gaben’s lips pressed into a thin line.

Pride still burned in him, but he could not deny what he had seen.

He had been bested, humiliated by someone he had underestimated.

And yet, a flicker of respect—or perhaps fear—passed through his gaze.

Aurora, watching from the side, felt a surge of awe and relief.

Riley had not only defended her honor but proven his strength, his dominance, and his devotion.

The war that lay ahead suddenly seemed a little less frightening with him by her side.

"Hahhhh... okay. You win. But if anything happens to my daughter, know that I’ll have you to blame for that." Gaben said and spat blood to the ground and then left thereafter.

***

One day later, a war council was held. The grand hall of the Rice clan’s fortress buzzed with tension.

Leaders of both the Rice and Osprey clans sat around a massive wooden table, maps sprawled before them, banners pinned to mark key locations, and scouts’ reports scattered like chess pieces across the surface.

Every eye in the room was focused on the discussion, aware that the fate of their clans—and the region itself—would hinge on the decisions made today.

The initial consensus was cautious: the smaller, weaker clans in the surrounding territories would be targeted first.

By conquering them, they could amass more warriors, solidify supply lines, and gather intelligence before attempting to face the most powerful clans.

The plan was pragmatic, safe, and—by the standards of seasoned war leaders—unassailable.

Riley, however, leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.

When he spoke, the room fell silent.

"Your plans are solid," he began, his voice calm but carrying a weight that demanded attention.

"But I have a better idea. I don’t want to exhaust my wife on this journey—especially since she’s pregnant. So why not go straight for the head of the lion and ignore these smaller clans for now?"

He gestured toward the map, moving the banners of both the Rice and Osprey clans northward, directly toward the largest and most formidable clan in the region—the Wheeler clan.

The room erupted into murmurs of disbelief. Gaben’s hand clenched the edge of the table so hard that the wood creaked under his grip.

His eyes burned with anger.

"You’re out of your mind, boy!" Gaben barked. "We cannot march straight into the Wheeler clan and expect them to surrender. The safest way is to conquer the lesser clans first, build momentum, gather more men and resources, and then strike at the Wheeler clan when the time is right!"

Riley met his glare evenly, unfazed. "And what if we waste months crawling through weaker clans? Every day we delay is another day the Wheeler clan strengthens its defenses. By the time we’re ready, they may have doubled their forces. I say we strike decisively at the top while we still hold the advantage—and spare my wife unnecessary fatigue and risk."

Gaben snorted, clearly unconvinced.

"Risk? You think your plan is without risk? You cannot possibly understand the dangers of a frontal strike on such a mighty clan! One mistake, one misstep, and we lose everything. Not just men, but land, honor, and our clans’ very future!"

Other leaders nodded in agreement, some shaking their heads, murmuring warnings about hubris and recklessness.

Riley could feel the weight of their experience pressing down on him, yet he refused to falter.

Alexander, Riley’s father, leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as he studied his son.

"Riley, the plan Gaben suggests is the safest," he said, his tone calm but firm.

"Conquer the smaller clans first. Secure your supply lines, build your army, gather intelligence. War is not about rash bravery; it’s about strategy, patience, and timing."

Riley pressed his lips together, his mind racing.

He understood the logic, the caution, the years of wisdom behind their arguments—but he also knew that hesitation could cost more than reckless courage.

If the Wheeler clan had time to prepare, no plan of safety would save them.

He had to convince them, somehow, that striking directly at the strongest enemy was not folly but opportunity.

"And what if the smaller clans rise against us while we delay?" Riley challenged, leaning forward, eyes blazing. "What if they form alliances, cut off our resources, or warn the Wheeler clan? Playing safe is only safe until it isn’t. I say we hit the strongest target first. A decisive blow at the top will collapse the rest beneath us. The weaker clans will fall in the aftermath without much effort."

A murmur ran through the room, some of the younger leaders nodding subtly, intrigued by Riley’s audacity.

Even some of Gaben’s trusted advisers exchanged uneasy glances, unsure whether the boy’s boldness was foolish or inspired.

Gaben’s jaw tightened, his voice low and dangerous.

"You may have courage, boy, but courage alone does not win wars. Do not mistake arrogance for wisdom. The Wheeler clan is no ordinary foe. They will not falter simply because you march straight to their gates. Their defenses are legendary, and their warriors are fierce. This... this plan could cost us everything."

Riley’s lips curved into a faint smile.

"Perhaps. Or perhaps it will end this war before it even truly begins. Sometimes, the bold move is the only move that matters. And I will not let hesitation waste precious time—or put my wife at risk unnecessarily."

Alexander studied him for a long moment, then sighed, running a hand through his hair. "He has a point," he admitted reluctantly. "Timing is everything in war. But this path is far more dangerous. Are you willing to gamble the lives of your men on a single strike?"

"It’s only a gamble when one doesn’t know how the game ends," Riley said coolly, his voice carrying across the chamber.

The subtle arrogance in his tone made the older men bristle, yet none could deny the weight behind his words.

He let the silence linger for a heartbeat before continuing. "How about I offer another alternative?"

Every head turned toward him, ears sharpened and eyes fixed.

Even those who had dismissed him moments ago leaned in, waiting to hear what bold plan he would reveal next.

And what Riley said next really stunned everyone in the scene.