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Chapter 12 - The Gathering Storm

The hall of Duke Raventhal's estate buzzed with activity as preparations for the campaign against Viscount Erynthe reached their peak. Couriers came and went with missives, knights polished their armor, and banners bearing the imperial crest were unfurled in preparation for battle.

I stood at the center of the strategy room, surrounded by maps and markers denoting troop positions. Raventhal, a man of sharp wit and even sharper instincts, paced beside me, his gray eyes fixed on the layout of Erynthe's estate.

"Erynthe's stronghold is well-fortified," Raventhal said, his voice low and steady. "The surrounding terrain favors defense—high walls, narrow approaches, and a natural moat fed by the River Svalin."

"It's a fortress in all but name," I agreed. "But no defense is perfect. We need to exploit his weaknesses before he can consolidate his forces further."

Elara stepped forward, her ever-present notebook in hand. "Our scouts report that Erynthe's garrison is larger than anticipated—nearly 500 men, including mercenaries. However, supply lines to the estate are stretched thin. If we cut off his provisions, it will weaken his position."

Raventhal nodded. "An effective strategy, but it will take time. Do we have that luxury?"

"No," I said firmly. "If we wait too long, Erynthe's backers might send reinforcements. We strike swiftly but strategically. A two-pronged assault: one force to lay siege to the estate, and another to infiltrate through the old aqueduct system beneath it. If we can disable his inner defenses from within, it will force his forces to fight on two fronts."

Kieran grinned from his position by the wall, his arms crossed lazily. "Sounds like you're volunteering for the fun part, Aurelian. Infiltrating a fortress through an ancient, probably crumbling aqueduct? Count me in."

"I wouldn't trust anyone else," I said dryly.

Raventhal leaned over the map, his brow furrowed. "It's a bold plan, but risky. If your infiltration team is discovered, the entire operation could fall apart."

"That's why we'll move under the cover of night," I replied. "Erynthe expects an open confrontation. We'll give him that—just not in the way he anticipates."

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the world in hues of orange and crimson, the army marched toward Erynthe's estate. The main force, led by Raventhal, would establish a siege camp at the front gates. Meanwhile, I led the infiltration team, consisting of Kieran, Elara, and a handful of Raventhal's most trusted men.

The entrance to the aqueducts was concealed beneath a thicket of briars and moss-covered stone. As we pried open the rusted grate, the faint scent of damp earth and stagnant water greeted us.

"Lovely," Kieran muttered, wrinkling his nose. "Why is it always sewers or tunnels with these plans?"

"Because they work," I said, lowering myself into the darkness.

Elara followed close behind, her lantern casting faint, flickering light against the stone walls. "The layout should lead us directly beneath the estate's inner courtyard," she said, consulting a map she had painstakingly pieced together from old records. "From there, we can access the gatehouse and disable the mechanisms for the outer defenses."

"Assuming no one thought to update these ancient plans," Kieran quipped.

"Then we improvise," I said, my voice resolute.

The journey through the aqueducts was slow and tense. The narrow passages forced us to move single file, and the faint echoes of water dripping against stone amplified every sound.

Elara's map proved accurate, and soon we reached a section where the walls began to slope upward. The air grew colder, carrying with it the faint sounds of activity above—voices, footsteps, the clink of metal on metal.

Kieran motioned for silence as we approached a grated vent overlooking the courtyard. Through the slats, we could see the heart of Erynthe's estate. Guards patrolled the walls, their torches casting long shadows. Beyond them, the main gatehouse loomed—a structure of iron and oak that seemed almost impenetrable.

"Two guards at the gatehouse entrance," Elara whispered. "If we can neutralize them quietly, I can access the mechanisms and disable the locks."

Kieran grinned, unsheathing a pair of daggers. "Leave that to me."

He slipped out of the vent with the precision of a shadow, disappearing into the courtyard. Moments later, the muffled thuds of bodies hitting the ground signaled his success.

"All clear," he whispered, waving us forward.

Elara and I climbed out of the aqueduct and made our way to the gatehouse. She immediately set to work, her nimble fingers working the levers and gears with practiced ease.

As the mechanisms groaned and the gate's locks disengaged, the sound of horns erupted in the distance. Raventhal's siege force had begun their assault, drawing Erynthe's attention to the front lines.

"It's done," Elara said, stepping back.

"Good," I replied. "Now we join the battle."

Chaos greeted us as we emerged from the gatehouse. Raventhal's forces had breached the outer walls, their banners cutting through the smoke and ash of burning defenses. Erynthe's men fought fiercely, but the surprise attack had thrown them into disarray.

Amidst the clamor, a single figure stood out—Viscount Erynthe himself. Clad in ornate armor and wielding a gleaming longsword, he rallied his men with a voice that carried above the din.

"Hold the line!" he bellowed. "For the glory of Krasyl!"

I met his gaze across the battlefield, and for a moment, time seemed to slow.

"Aurelian," he snarled, his voice dripping with contempt. "I should have known you'd meddle in matters beyond your understanding."

"You've overstepped your bounds, Erynthe," I called back, drawing my blade. "This ends now."

He laughed, a cold and mirthless sound. "You think you can stop me? You're nothing but a child playing at power."

"Then let's see how you fare against a child," I said, charging toward him.

Our blades met in a clash that sent sparks flying. Around us, the battle raged, but in that moment, it was as if the world had narrowed to just the two of us.

Erynthe was strong and skilled, his strikes heavy and precise. But I was faster, my movements honed by both my current training and the memories of my past life.

"Your ambition blinds you," I said, parrying a strike aimed at my shoulder. "You're nothing but a pawn to the serpent you serve."

His eyes flashed with fury. "You know nothing of what's to come!"

"Then enlighten me," I said, driving him back with a flurry of strikes.

The duel was brutal, but Erynthe's confidence wavered as I pressed the advantage. With a final, decisive blow, I disarmed him, sending his sword clattering to the ground.

He fell to his knees, bloodied and defeated, yet his expression remained defiant.

"You think you've won?" he spat. "The serpent's coils are everywhere. You can't stop what's coming."

"Perhaps not," I said, raising my blade. "But I'll die trying."

The battle ended as Raventhal's forces secured the estate, and Erynthe was taken into custody. But his words lingered, a chilling reminder that our victory was only the beginning.

The serpent's shadow loomed large, and I knew the fight ahead would be unlike any I had faced before.