Chapter 240 – The Storm of War
Commander Allistor:
We were anxiously awaiting Lord Nikolaus's return. Gathered with other nobles, the atmosphere was suffused with palpable tension. War could break out at any moment, and whispers of fear echoed among those present. I was part of a special division, and my duties often involved clandestine operations. My work included escorting captured individuals, soon to become slaves, or accompanying carriages loaded with contraband, primarily drugs destined for other parts of the duchy.
"What have I gotten myself into…" I murmured, watching the anxious nobles.
I thought about all the effort I had invested in recent years, the plans, the schemes, and the sacrifices I had made to reach this point. Everything would have worked if Nikolaus had taken control of the duchy. He was the key figure, the man who could bring order to everything. Under his leadership, I would have been in a much more advantageous position.
Nikolaus would need trusted men to manage his lands, and I could easily be one of those strategic allies. I could have played a crucial role in this region, helping to consolidate his authority, or perhaps followed him as a prestigious guard in his castle. And his nephew, Frederick? He would be nothing more than a decorative figure, a puppet manipulated by Nikolaus to serve his interests.
My loyalty, ambition, and experience should have earned me a privileged position. But now, everything is falling apart. The perfect opportunity is slipping through my fingers like sand.
It's not over yet. We can still turn the tide!
Everything happened so quickly after that I barely had time to process it. Lord Nikolaus returned, bringing with him the Evenhart heir, and my mind momentarily froze. I couldn't believe what my eyes were seeing. The boy was really there, in front of us, as if he had delivered himself on a silver platter, no resistance, no tricks.
The atmosphere around us was charged with tension, and the murmurs among the soldiers quickly turned into a nervous buzz. "Is it really the heir?" they whispered. "Why would he do something like this?" The incredulity was etched on everyone's faces, but as I looked at the boy, I knew instantly that it was true.
What a joke of fate, he walked right into the wolves' den.
The Ten Fingers, the most powerful mages in the fortress, surrounded the boy in a tight circle, ready to react to any suspicious movement. The tension was suffocating. Their hands were subtly raised, each one channeling mana into creating an elemental barrier, prepared to neutralize any magic Nathan Evenhart might attempt. Any movement he made would be met with an impenetrable defense, preventing him from casting even the smallest spell.
If he so much as lifted a finger, if he dared to activate any spell, the barriers would rise instantly, and the combined power of these seasoned mages would leave no room for him to escape or fight back.
"We've won!" I exclaimed, barely believing the words coming out of my mouth. The boy was being dragged away like a common prisoner as the fortress gates slammed shut with a heavy thud. Victory was within our grasp.
The men around us parted to let Lord Nikolaus through, while the nobles nearby appeared equally stunned. Reality began to settle in, and I couldn't contain the growing excitement in my chest. I hurried toward the tent where the garrison was stationed, the place where I had spent the last few days under unbearable tension.
Entering, I saw a few men adjusting their equipment, the metallic sound of swords and armor echoing softly in the cramped space.
"It's over!" I declared, my voice brimming with relief and euphoria. "It's really the heir! We've won. The duchy is ours now!"
The soldiers' faces lit up briefly with surprise, but I barely noticed.
I rushed to the table, grabbing my flask with trembling hands. Taking a generous swig, I welcomed the burning sensation of the strong alcohol coursing down my throat, warming my chest. Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I slammed the flask onto the table with a thud.
"Screw the Evenharts!" I laughed, a euphoric release washing over me. For days, I had felt the sharp edge of a blade pressing against my neck. Now, that oppressive weight had lifted, replaced by a liberating sense of triumph.
"Man… I'm gonna enjoy myself with a woman tonight," I joked, laughing uncontrollably. But then I noticed something was off. The room, which should have been filled with laughter and celebration, felt heavy, unnervingly silent.
"What's with those faces you're making?" I asked, frowning.
Everyone in the tent was pale, their eyes wide with disbelief, as if they had just witnessed the impossible. Swords began clattering to the ground as trembling hands lost their grip. One soldier, stumbling backward in panic, tripped over an armor stand, sending a cacophony of metal clanging to the ground.
And then I felt it.
A presence.
Something unseen swept through me, crushing the air around me with its sheer weight. My chest tightened, my lungs refusing to draw breath. It was an intangible force, but its terror was absolute, as though death itself had entered the tent.
"What the hell is this?" I muttered, feeling my body shudder involuntarily. My hands trembled violently, and an icy dread crawled down my spine.
I bolted out of the tent, heart pounding. Before I could make sense of the chaos, a scream pierced the air, sharp and cutting like a blade. Suddenly, the heavens seemed to tear open, unleashing a blinding light that carved through the stormy clouds.
'KABOOM!'
The deafening crash of thunder roared around me. In an instant, an intense blue light descended from the sky, slamming into the earth with a cataclysmic force. It didn't end there. Successive blasts followed, each louder and more violent than the last, shaking the very ground beneath us.
A shockwave hit us like an invisible wall. I was hurled through the air like a ragdoll, crashing into a tent and tumbling uncontrollably until slamming into the side of a carriage. The tent's canvas collapsed over me as I struggled to get my bearings.
Amid the chaos, I felt it again, that oppressive, almost otherworldly force. It constricted my chest, robbing me of air as if the atmosphere itself had turned against me. My breaths came in shallow gasps, my lungs refusing to cooperate.
Pain radiated from my shoulder, throbbing with every attempted movement. But that wasn't what terrified me the most. It was the overwhelming sense of dread, the invisible monsters I could almost feel watching me, waiting for the right moment to strike.
Panicking, I forced myself to stand. My body resisted, frozen in fear. My ears rang with an unrelenting high-pitched whine, and my vision remained obscured by blotches of light from the earlier explosion.
When I finally steadied myself, the true horror unfolded before me.
The fortress gate was in ruins, utterly obliterated. Debris was scattered everywhere, smoke rising in thick plumes from the rubble. Above, dark storm clouds roiled, lightning bolts arcing wildly through the sky. Each electric strike targeted the fortress's platforms, mercilessly obliterating everything in its path.
Mages and archers, once in commanding positions atop the walls, were thrown to the ground like ragdolls. Their bodies lay crushed beneath falling stone and shattered wood, the air thick with the acrid smell of destruction and the cries of those who hadn't yet succumbed to the onslaught.
It was devastation incarnate, and it was only the beginning.
The stones supporting the structure crumbled one by one as soldiers scattered in every direction. Chaos reigned, panic etched across the faces of men who had believed themselves secure. Cries of despair echoed across the battlefield, but no one knew where to run. The destruction was relentless, the fear, all-encompassing.
I watched as the magicians of the Ten Fingers scrambled in desperation, helping the political nobles to their feet and urging them toward the castle. The explosion had sown utter disorder, and even these renowned mages, celebrated for their prowess, were visibly shaken. Some of the Ten Fingers, who had been hurled beyond the gate by the sheer force of the blast, tried to return, but a dense black cloud descended from the sky, completely sealing the area and cutting them off from the rest of the army.
Disoriented and injured, my gaze turned to Lord Nikolaus. He was terrified, running erratically toward the castle, flanked by nobles and other members of the Ten Fingers, all desperately seeking shelter. Seeing him, once so proud and commanding, now reduced to a man consumed by fear, filled me with an ominous sense of foreboding.
A sharp pain shot through my shoulder, and I realized it was dislocated. The agony was intense, but the terror I felt far surpassed any physical discomfort.
The sky, once a mere harbinger of an impending storm, was now entirely shrouded by a dome of black clouds. That oppressive barrier sealed us in, isolating us within a shadowy, suffocating space.
Wounded men staggered, leaning on each other for support, while those still able to fight scanned their surroundings with panic-stricken expressions. Doubt and fear hung thick in the air, palpable in every frantic glance and trembling hand.
At that moment, a bolt of lightning struck the earth, briefly illuminating the chaos before exploding with a deafening roar.
"Commander!" Soldiers rushed toward me, their faces mirrors of the terror I felt. "What should we do?"
I looked at them, then at the devastation around us, and finally at the black dome encircling us. My mind resisted the reality of what was unfolding before my eyes. This wasn't natural. There shouldn't be any spell capable of summoning a storm of this magnitude.
I tried to speak, but the words caught in my throat. My gaze drifted, locked on the pulsating dome that surrounded us as if it were alive, a ravenous creature poised to devour us all.
The boy wields the lightning element... this mess has to be his doing.
"Find that bastard! Find Nathan Evenhart!" I shouted, my voice slicing through the chaos. The tension and desperation in my tone were unmistakable. "This is a territory spell; we're trapped in here. We need to kill or neutralize him to break this prison!"
The soldiers scrambled, frantically trying to free their comrades buried beneath the rubble. Even with the magical orbs scattered across the battlefield, the storm's oppressive darkness seemed to consume everything. The crackle of lightning streaking across the sky echoed ominously, a constant, looming threat.
"There he is!" someone shouted, pointing toward the ruins.
My eyes followed the trembling hand of the soldier, and then I saw him. Sitting atop the highest pile of debris, like a king on a throne of destruction. The sight was unsettling, almost unreal. Nathan Evenhart sat there, high above us, surveying the scene with a cold, calculating demeanor. His presence was suffocating, like that of a predator watching its prey, commanding and unyielding.
"Before we begin," Nathan said, his voice slicing through the tension like a blade, "I want to make one thing clear. I'll give you one chance to leave here alive. Drop your weapons and kneel in surrender. Those who kneel will have my mercy."
His words echoed across the battlefield, heavy with conviction. Soldiers and mages around me exchanged uncertain glances, struggling to comprehend the situation. Doubt hung thick in the air, yet no one moved. The silence was almost as deafening as the thunder.
Nathan Evenhart remained motionless, his figure stark against the stormy sky. He watched us, like a judge poised to deliver his verdict. Then, after several seconds of suffocating silence, he smiled, a cold, detached smile, utterly devoid of empathy.
"So, no one will kneel… perfect," he said, his voice icy and defiant. Rising slowly to his feet, every movement exuded an overwhelming aura of dominance. "Enjoy this night. It will be your last."