The Fall of Valen
Valen's empire was burning.
Paranoia consumed his men.
Lieutenants turned on each other.
And Kael stood at the center of it all—an invisible architect of destruction.
But now, the game was coming to an end.
The Shadow Dawn was already on the move.
And when they arrived… the Black Fortress would fall.
Kael stepped out of his chamber in silence, moving like a shadow through the fortress halls.
There was one final role he had to play before the battle began.
He had to make sure Valen was completely exposed.
Kael's Last Strike
By now, Valen was drowning in doubt.
He had already executed one of his most loyal lieutenants on suspicion of treason.
The others were on edge, terrified that they might be next.
Perfect.
Kael needed one last spark.
He found an Ironblood guard drinking alone in one of the dimly lit halls. The man looked worn, his nerves shot from the constant rumors of betrayal. He barely noticed as Kael sat beside him and took a sip from his own mug.
The guard glanced at him warily.
"What do you want?"
Kael smiled faintly.
"Just a bit of advice."
The man frowned. "What kind of advice?"
Kael leaned in slightly, voice quiet but sharp as a blade.
"If I were you… I'd be gone before sunrise."
The reaction was immediate.
The guard stiffened. His eyes widened.
"…What?"
Kael stood up, giving him a small pat on the shoulder.
"Think about what I said."
And then he walked away.
He didn't need to explain. The paranoia had already done most of the work.
By morning, the guard would flee.
And when Valen heard about it… he would assume it was another traitor trying to escape.
That would put him in full-blown panic.
Exactly where Kael wanted him.
The Attack Begins
The moment had arrived.
Shadow Dawn was already positioned outside the fortress.
And inside, the Ironbloods were tearing themselves apart.
Now, all that was needed was the signal.
Kael climbed one of the watchtowers, peering out beyond the fortress walls.
In the distance, dark figures moved between the trees.
They were waiting.
Waiting for him to set the fire.
So he did.
Kael grabbed a torch and flung it into the lower courtyard, where barrels of oil were stored.
The flames erupted instantly.
Screams rang out. Alarms sounded.
Panic.
The fortress was burning.
And the attack had begun.
The Battle for the Black Fortress
The Shadow Dawn surged through the walls like living specters, striking fast and silent.
Ironbloods died before they even realized they were under attack.
But not all of them.
Even in chaos, the Ironbloods were warriors.
And they would not fall easily.
The fortress became a battlefield of fire and steel.
Fighting spilled through the corridors.
Smoke filled the halls.
Blood painted the stone floors.
Kael moved through the chaos like a ghost, cutting down enemies in the confusion, avoiding blades meant for him.
He wasn't fighting to win.
He was fighting to survive.
Because he still had one last target.
Valen.
And Kael wanted to be the one to finish him.
The Final Confrontation
Kael found Valen in the grand hall.
The leader of the Ironbloods stood alone, surrounded by the corpses of his own men.
His sword was slick with blood, his chest rising and falling with exhaustion.
He had already lost.
But when he saw Kael… he laughed.
A bitter, knowing laugh.
"I should've known," Valen said, voice hoarse.
Kael crossed his arms.
"Yes. You should have."
Valen spit blood onto the floor.
"You planned all of this?"
Kael shrugged.
"It wasn't hard. You were already rotting from the inside. I just sped up the process."
Valen's eyes burned with fury.
He gripped his sword tighter.
"Then come finish the job, boy."
Kael didn't hesitate.
He drew his blade—and lunged.