Leon awoke to the deafening sound of a crash. His eyes snapped open, heart pounding as the walls of his quarters seemed to tremble. The darkness of the room was punctuated by the harsh clanging of bells, echoing through the camp. For a moment, he remained still, disoriented, before another sound—wood splintering and something massive smashing against stone—jolted him into full awareness.
Sitting up abruptly, Leon swung his legs over the edge of the cot. The noise outside was chaotic—shouts, heavy footfalls, the distinct clash of steel against steel. He could hear the guards shouting orders, their voices thick with panic. Whatever was happening, it wasn't an ordinary disturbance.
The bell continued to ring, signaling an alarm, its urgent peal slicing through the confusion. Leon's heart raced, but his mind remained sharp, already calculating the possibilities. An attack. But from whom?
He moved toward the small window in his quarters, pressing his face close to the iron bars. Outside, the camp was in disarray. The guards, usually calm and controlled, were running in every direction. Shadows moved rapidly in the dim torchlight, figures clashing in the distance. The overseers were shouting commands, trying to organize a defense, but it was clear they had been caught off guard.
Suddenly, a deafening roar of flames erupted from one of the storage buildings near the barracks, the fire casting a lurid glow over the chaos. Leon's breath caught in his throat. The camp was under siege, but who would dare launch such an assault?
His thoughts raced, trying to piece together what was happening. The slaves were too broken and beaten down to attempt something this bold, and the lord's enemies had always been kept at bay. Could it be... Mara?
The realization hit him like a bolt of lightning.
Rourke.
Mara had gone to the mercenaries, but he hadn't imagined this—an outright attack on the camp. It was a daring, almost reckless move. Yet, as the sounds of battle grew louder, the thought of Mara working with Rourke became undeniable. This was the mercenaries. They hadn't come for plunder alone—they had come for him.
The door to his quarters rattled as one of the guards banged against it from the outside. "Stay inside!" a voice yelled through the wooden door. "Do not open the door for anyone!"
Leon ignored the order, stepping back from the window, his mind already formulating a plan. If Rourke and his men had come to destroy the camp, they wouldn't stop until they had leveled the place. And if they were willing to risk such a bold attack, it meant they were after something—or someone—specific.
"Me," Leon murmured to himself. His thoughts drifted to Mara—she had promised to protect him, even if it meant putting herself in danger.
Another crash sounded, closer this time, followed by the distinct thud of bodies hitting the ground outside his door. The guards stationed to watch over him had been overpowered. Leon's pulse quickened, but his resolve hardened. He needed to be ready.
The door to his quarters burst open with a thunderous crash, splinters of wood flying in all directions. Leon instinctively shielded his face, stepping back as a figure entered the room, silhouetted against the flickering torchlight outside.
It was Mara.
Her face was streaked with dirt and sweat, her clothes torn and singed from the battle. But her eyes were fierce, determined, as they locked onto Leon's.
"Leon," she breathed, stepping inside. "We don't have much time. We're getting you out of here."
Behind her, two of Rourke's men entered the room, weapons drawn, their faces hard and focused. Leon's relief was palpable, but he wasted no time on pleasantries.
"Mara," he said, his voice steady despite the chaos. "What's happening out there?"
"It's Rourke and his men," she replied, quickly moving to untie his bindings. "We came to destroy the camp. The guards weren't expecting an attack. They're panicking, but it won't last long."
Leon glanced out the door. The sounds of the battle were still intense, but he knew Mara was right. The camp's overseers would regain control if they didn't act fast.
"What about the slaves?" he asked. "We can't leave them behind."
Mara's face darkened. "Rourke and his men are fighting through to the barracks now. We're freeing as many as we can, but you're the priority."
Leon stiffened. "I won't leave without the others."
"We don't have time to argue!" Mara hissed, grabbing his arm and pulling him toward the door. "This whole place is coming down, and Rourke's men are here because I made sure they'd protect you. If you stay, we all die."
Leon hesitated, his heart torn. The slaves—so many of them had suffered under the lord's rule. They deserved freedom just as much as he did. But he knew Mara was right. Staying behind now would only ensure they were all caught in the crossfire.
Reluctantly, he nodded. "Alright. But we'll make sure we free as many as possible on our way out."
Mara's eyes softened slightly, but she didn't waste time with words. She motioned to Rourke's men, and the group moved swiftly through the corridors of the camp, the sounds of battle growing louder with every step.
The hallways were thick with smoke and debris. The fires set by the mercenaries had already consumed several of the buildings, and the acrid scent of burning wood filled the air. They encountered scattered groups of guards, but Rourke's men made short work of them, cutting through the disorganized resistance with brutal efficiency.
As they approached the barracks, Leon's heart clenched. The slaves were huddled in the corner of the building, chained and guarded by a handful of overseers. Some of the slaves were bleeding, their bodies beaten and broken, a brutal reminder of Havran's relentless interrogation methods.
Rourke's men surged forward, and a fierce skirmish broke out. The overseers, already worn down by the unexpected attack, were no match for the hardened mercenaries. One by one, they fell under the onslaught, their weapons clattering uselessly to the ground.
Leon rushed forward, grabbing the keys from one of the fallen overseers. He wasted no time unlocking the chains that bound the slaves, his hands moving with practiced precision.
"You're free now," Leon said urgently, helping a young man to his feet. "Run. Head north, past the Blackridge Mountains. There's a village there—safe from the lord and his men."
The slaves, though dazed and weak, nodded gratefully. They stumbled toward the exit, some leaning on each other for support as they made their way out of the barracks and into the night.
Mara appeared at Leon's side. "We have to go. Now."
Leon glanced at the freed slaves, his heart heavy with the knowledge that not all of them would survive the journey to freedom. But he had done what he could, and now it was time to escape before the tide of battle turned against them.
Together, Leon and Mara made their way through the chaos, Rourke's men clearing a path as they went. The sounds of the battle grew fainter as they reached the edge of the camp, the fires now a distant glow against the night sky.
As they crossed the perimeter, Leon cast one last look back at the camp. The place where so many had suffered and died. The place that had once seemed inescapable.
It was over now.
Rourke appeared from the shadows, his expression grim. "We did what we came to do. The lord's camp is in ruins."
"And the slaves?" Leon asked.
"Those who could escape are on their way," Rourke replied. "But not all of them made it. The overseers fought harder than expected."
Leon's chest tightened, but he nodded. "Thank you, Rourke. For everything."
Rourke grunted. "Don't thank me yet. We still have to make sure the lord doesn't rebuild. And that means taking the fight to him directly."
Mara stepped forward. "We need to get Leon to safety first. Then we can figure out our next move."
Rourke nodded, his eyes scanning the horizon. "Agreed. Let's move. The lord will be hunting us before long."
Together, they disappeared into the forest, leaving the burning camp behind them. The sound of freedom echoed in their hearts, but Leon knew that the battle was far from over.
There would be no peace until the lord was defeated once and for all.