The war room buzzed with tense energy as Vivienne stood over the map, her sharp gaze darting between troop placements and incoming reports. Messengers rushed in and out, their faces pale as they relayed updates. Despite the chaos, Vivienne's demeanor remained icy and composed.
"Move the archers to the west tower," she ordered, pointing to a critical weak point. "Overlapping fields of fire will pin down their flanking unit. Have the reserves stand by at the northern wall; they're likely testing it next."
A soldier hesitated, shifting uncomfortably. "But if the northern wall collapses… we'd have no fallback, ma'am."
Vivienne's expression hardened, her voice cutting through his doubt. "The fallback is the keep. If we lose the walls, there won't be anything left to defend. Now move."
The soldier swallowed and nodded, retreating to carry out her orders. Vivienne exhaled softly, her fingers tapping the edge of the map. The tension hung thick in the air, but she couldn't afford to falter—not now.
The doors swung open as Klara strode into the war room, her armor streaked with blood and dirt but her grin undiminished. "You're working hard, Vivienne. Trying to impress the boss?"
Vivienne didn't look up, her tone sharp. "I'm trying to win a battle, Klara. Perhaps you should focus on doing the same."
Klara smirked, leaning on the edge of the table. "Relax, ice queen. I've got the vanguard running in circles. But hey, if you're looking for a gold star from Morrath, you're doing great."
Vivienne's fingers stilled, her lips twitching in irritation. She met Klara's gaze evenly and said, "At least you've managed to keep the vanguard off balance. It's... effective."
Klara blinked, momentarily caught off guard. Then her grin widened. "Was that a compliment? Careful, Vivienne, you might start growing on me."
Vivienne exhaled slowly, but a faint smile tugged at her lips. "Just make sure you don't trip over your ego out there."
As Klara left the room, Vivienne allowed herself a brief glance at the map, her thoughts lingering on Morrath's leadership. He doesn't waste time. His decisions are sharp, deliberate. It's… not what I expected from a Demon Lord. She straightened her posture, brushing the thought aside. Focus. There's no room for distractions.
…The battlefield was chaos—a cacophony of clashing steel, shouted commands, and the distant rumble of siege engines. Klara thrived in it. Leading her mercenaries in daring ambushes, she struck at weak points in the Dominion's formation, cutting down supply lines and disrupting their advance.
"Keep moving!" she barked to her team, her twin blades flashing as she brought down another soldier. "Hit them hard and fall back before they regroup!"
Her team moved like shadows through the chaos, striking fast and retreating before the Dominion could react. The disciplined ranks faltered under her relentless assault, their cohesion breaking apart as confusion spread. Klara laughed, a sharp, taunting sound that carried above the fray.
"Come on!" she shouted at the scattering soldiers. "Is that all you've got?"
As she sliced through a group of knights, she caught sight of Morrath cutting a path through the battlefield. His blackened armor seemed to absorb the firelight, and his Shadow Blade glinted with an ominous glow as it cleaved through the Dominion's elite forces.
"Hey, boss!" Klara shouted, darting toward him. "Don't worry—I'm keeping the blood flowing out here!"
Morrath spared her a brief glance, his crimson eyes glinting. A faint smirk tugged at his lips. "Just make sure it's their blood, not yours."
"Wouldn't dream of it!" she called back, spinning to parry a blow before plunging her blade into her attacker.
Pausing briefly to catch her breath, Klara observed Morrath. He's not just strong—he's terrifying. The Dominion doesn't stand a chance. Her grin widened as she rejoined the fray.
The clash at the southern wall reached a fever pitch as Dominion siege engines rained destruction upon the castle. The sound of stone cracking reverberated through the air, sending defenders scrambling as a section of the wall began to buckle.
Morrath observed the chaos from the ramparts, his mind racing. The southern wall is critical. If it collapses, the Dominion will funnel their forces through, overwhelming us. I can't let that happen.
He leaped from the ramparts, activating Shadow Veil mid-air. His form shimmered, vanishing into a blur of darkness as he landed amidst the advancing enemy.
Dominion soldiers froze as Morrath materialized in their midst, his Void Blade emanating an eerie, blackened glow. With swift, precise movements, he cut through their ranks, the weapon slicing through steel and flesh alike. His Fear Aura rippled outward, sending waves of panic through the enemy.
The system chimed in his mind:
[Rank Progress: 80%.]
Morrath stepped forward, his voice cold and unyielding. "You think you can break my walls? Try breaking me first."
The Dominion soldiers faltered, their resolve crumbling under his assault. Morrath surveyed the battlefield, his strategic mind calculating the next move. This isn't over. They'll regroup, but so will we.
…In the castle's central chamber, Kaela knelt before the glowing wards, her staff trembling in her hands. The Philosopher's Stone pulsed with energy, amplifying her magic, but the strain was overwhelming. Sweat dripped down her face, her vision blurring as she channeled the defensive runes.
"I can't… stop now," she whispered, her voice shaky. If I fail, the walls will fall. Morrath will fall. I can't let that happen.
A sudden surge of energy hit the wards, causing her to cry out. She collapsed, clutching her staff as her body trembled from exhaustion.
Moments later, Morrath appeared, his crimson eyes locking onto her pale face. He knelt beside her, his voice unusually gentle. "You've done more than enough, Kaela. Rest."
She shook her head weakly. "The wards… they'll fail if I stop."
"They won't," Morrath assured her. "Not because of you."
His words steadied her, and with a shaky breath, she gripped her staff once more. He's counting on me. They all are. I won't fail.
Kaela's determination burned brighter, and she pushed herself back to her feet, the wards glowing stronger as she resumed her work.
As the first wave of the Dominion's assault faltered, the defenders rallied, their morale bolstered by Morrath's leadership, Vivienne's precision, Klara's ferocity, and Kaela's resolve. The battle was far from over, but for the moment, the castle stood firm.
Morrath ascended the ramparts once more, his blackened armor gleaming in the firelight. His crimson eyes scanned the battlefield, his voice low as he muttered, "Let them come."
In the distance, the rumble of a massive siege engine echoed, its shadow looming against the horizon. A Dominion officer's voice bellowed orders, promising the storm was far from over.