Night fell swiftly over the valley, cloaking the rogue encampment in darkness. Fires were extinguished, weapons sharpened, and final orders given. The air was thick with anticipation and a tension that crackled like distant lightning.
Lucian stood atop a rocky outcrop, gazing toward the horizon where Ronan's stronghold lay hidden behind dense forests and jagged cliffs. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, but outwardly, he remained calm—a beacon of strength for those who would march into battle with him.
Selene approached quietly, her footsteps barely audible against the rocky ground. "They're ready," she said softly.
Lucian turned slightly, his crimson eyes gleaming in the faint moonlight. "Good. Keep the secondary force disciplined. Darien will look for any excuse to defy me. Don't give him one."
Selene sighed. "He may be difficult, but he's not a fool. He knows what's at stake."
Lucian's smirk was brief but telling. "We'll see. Remember, this isn't just about Ronan. It's about reminding them who I am—and why they should follow."
Selene studied him for a moment before nodding. "I'll hold the front line. Just don't get yourself killed before we have a chance to celebrate."
Lucian chuckled darkly. "I don't die easily."
With that, he turned and descended the outcrop, moving toward the group of elite fighters he had personally chosen for the infiltration. Each one was a seasoned warrior, loyal to no clan but bound by a shared hatred of Ronan's reign. They bowed slightly as he approached, their eyes shining with quiet resolve.
"We move swiftly and strike without hesitation," Lucian instructed. "Our objective is simple: reach Ronan's chamber and end him. No delays, no distractions. Stay in the shadows until I give the signal. Understood?"
A chorus of affirmations followed, and with a final glance toward Selene, Lucian led his group into the night.