The banners of the Divine Order fluttered in the cold wind as thousands of knights, priests, and battle mages rode toward Blackthorn Keep. The sound of marching boots and clanking armor echoed across the valley.
At the front, General Aldric sat tall on his warhorse, eyes locked on the dark fortress ahead.
Arik's report had confirmed his fears—Kael Draven had become something monstrous. If they allowed him to strengthen his hold, the Abyss would spread like a plague.
"We strike hard and fast," Aldric announced to his officers. "Before the Tyrant can gather his forces."
The knights cheered, convinced of their victory.
Aldric, however, felt a strange unease. Why had Kael not struck first?
Kael – The Web Tightens
Far above, standing atop the highest tower of Blackthorn Keep, Kael watched the Divine Order's army approach. A smirk played on his lips.
"They march like sheep," he mused.
Beside him, his trusted second-in-command, Varik the Dreadblade, knelt. "Your orders, my lord?"
Kael raised a hand.
Below, in the valley where the Divine Order would soon march, the land had already been prepared.
Hidden abyssal sigils pulsed beneath the snow, waiting to be activated.
Enchanted fog lay in wait, ready to strip the knights of their senses.
And most importantly… Kael's forces were nowhere to be seen.
Let them come. Let them believe they had the advantage.
Then, when the moment was right… the abyss would swallow them whole.
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