Several hours later... The Silverfang forces arrived at the gates of the Blackthorn stronghold, their arrival announced by the heavy march of boots and the arrogant laughter of their warriors. At the forefront was Erland, the third son of the Silverfang Clan leader, Ulrich.
Erland's presence is commanding but exuding overconfidence. A smirk played on his lips as he surveyed the worn walls of the Blackthorn stronghold.
"This?" he scoffed, gesturing to the crumbling stone. "This is what the so-called Blackthorn Clan calls a defense? Laughable."
"Is this what passes for a stronghold? I've seen ruins with more dignity." Erland added.
The Silverfang warriors laughed, their confidence bolstered by their numbers and reputation.
Behind him rode Commander Kael, his sharp eyes scanning the terrain. Unlike Erland, Kael's demeanor was cautious, and his expression was tight and uneased. Kael had fought against the Blackthorn once before and had barely escaped with his life. The memory of Draven's cunning and deadly moves still haunted him.
"Erland," Kael said, his tone firm, "don't underestimate them. The last time we attacked this clan, I faced a man—Draven—who outmaneuvered our best strategies. If he's still here, we need to be careful."
Erland snorted, waving Kael's warning aside. "Draven? A mere servant? Don't tell me you're scared of someone like that. The Blackthorn is the weakest of the weak. We'll crush them before lunch."
Kael's jaw tightened, but he said nothing more. He knew Erland's arrogance would blind him to the danger ahead.
As the Silverfang forces moved closer to the gates, Erland continued to mock the Blackthorn.
"Do you see them trembling behind those walls?" he called out to his men. "They know what's coming. They know they're finished!"
The warriors laughed, their confidence swelling with Erland's words.
Kael, however, remained quiet, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade. His eyes darted to the surrounding terrain, looking for any sign of traps or ambushes. "Draven isn't the type to leave anything to chance," he thought.
The ground beneath them shimmered faintly when the Silverfang forces crossed the outer courtyard. For a moment, Kael's instincts screamed at him to call a halt, but before he could shout, a light pulse erupted.
Ancient symbols lit up the ground, glowing with a faint, crimson hue. The air grew thick with an unseen force, and a barrier surged upward, trapping several Silverfang warriors inside.
"What is this sorcery?" Erland shouted, his smirk disappearing as confusion overtook him.
Kael's eyes widened in recognition. "An ancient magic circle," he muttered. "Draven… this must be his work. I'm sure of it."
The trapped warriors slammed their weapons against the barrier, but their strikes had no effect. The shimmering walls held firm, leaving them helpless within.
Erland's face contorted in rage. "Break through it!" he roared. "It's just a trick!"
But no matter how fiercely the warriors fought, the magic remained unyielding.
The Blackthorn members watched the scene unfold from the stronghold's walls with wide eyes.
"What… what is that?" one of them whispered.
Elder Varis, the most experienced clan member, looked on in shock. "That magic… It's ancient. But none of us possess the knowledge to cast it."
The realization left the Blackthorn warriors murmuring in confusion. If the magic wasn't theirs, then who could have set the trap?
In the shadows of the stronghold, Draven observed the chaos with a calm expression. He had worked secretly, preparing this magic circle without anyone's knowledge. It was one of the weakest spells from the ancient codices he remembered, but it was enough to stall the Silverfang forces and disrupt their momentum.
"This is just the opening move," Draven thought, his lips curling into a faint smile.
Outside the barrier, Kael stepped closer to Erland, his voice low but firm. "I told you to be careful."
Erland rounded on Kael, his anger directed at the commander. "You're just afraid of a mere servant, Kael. Look around you—this isn't the work of some mastermind. This is desperation!". This is nothing but a minor inconvenience. We'll smash through their defenses and wipe them out."
Kael clenched his fists, holding back his frustration. He wanted to remind Erland that underestimating Draven had cost lives before, but he knew his warnings would be ignored.
Erland turned to the rest of the forces, giving orders to split into smaller groups and continue the assault. "Let them think they've slowed us down," he sneered. "We'll show them the strength of the Silverfang!"
To be continued…