The Decree

His gaze fell upon the decree, the stark black ink proclaiming a chilling mandate: all nobles were obligated to dispatch five thousand soldiers to the frontlines.

"Five thousand," Roland breathed, the words heavy with disbelief.

The impossible weight of the order pressed down on him. They had been meticulous in their training, their ranks swelling daily with eager recruits. Their prowess had blossomed over the past few months, their strength rivaling even the most formidable armies of the esteemed nobility. Yet, their numbers barely scraped the surface of the demanded quota, hovering around a meager three thousand.

"So we march to the front," Roland murmured, the grim reality settling upon him like a shroud.

A ripple of unease spread through the ranks of the new recruits, their faces pale with apprehension.

"Are we truly going to the front?" one young man stammered, his voice trembling.

The northern front, while not an immediate threat to their isolated city of Ice Demon, was a chilli