A Proving Ground
The challenge was clear: destroy a Broken Throne encampment near Vorthal to prove their worth to the mercenary leader, Catria. It was not a task to be taken lightly, as such camps were heavily fortified and manned by skilled fighters.
Eren, Lyssandra, and Kieran stood on a ridge overlooking their target. The camp was nestled in a natural basin, its perimeter lined with sharp wooden palisades. Inside, soldiers patrolled in pairs, their movements disciplined and deliberate. At the center of the camp stood a large tent marked with the sigil of the Broken Throne: a fractured crown atop a field of black and crimson.
"They're not making this easy," Lyssandra muttered, her eyes scanning the defenses.
Kieran crouched beside her, his gaze calculating. "They rarely do. But there's a weakness—we just have to find it."
Eren's eyes narrowed as he observed the layout. "The southern edge," he said. "The terrain there slopes downward, and their watchtower on that side is undermanned. We'll use the slope for cover and strike from there."
Kieran nodded. "Not a bad plan. But once we're in, it'll get messy fast. We need a distraction to draw some of their forces away."
Lyssandra grinned. "Leave that to me. I've got a few tricks up my sleeve."
Setting the Stage
As the moon rose high in the sky, the trio moved into position. Lyssandra separated from the group, heading to the western edge of the camp. She carried a small pouch filled with explosive powder she had prepared earlier, a concoction that would create a loud, fiery distraction.
Kieran and Eren waited at the southern slope, hidden among the underbrush. Eren's hand rested on the hilt of his blade, his other hand crackling faintly with flame. Kieran held a bow, his quiver brimming with arrows tipped in poison he had scavenged during their journey.
Moments later, the first explosion rocked the western side of the camp. Flames erupted from a storage tent, and soldiers shouted as they rushed to extinguish the fire.
"That's our cue," Eren said, his voice low but firm.
They moved swiftly, scaling the palisade with practiced ease. Kieran loosed an arrow at the nearest guard, the man collapsing silently before he could sound the alarm. Eren followed, his blade cutting down another soldier with lethal precision.
The Battle Within
Once inside, the chaos began. Eren unleashed a wave of fire, engulfing a group of soldiers who had noticed their entry. The flames danced across the camp, illuminating the night in shades of orange and red.
Kieran provided cover from a distance, his arrows finding their marks with unerring accuracy. Each shot was a calculated strike, taking down mages before they could cast or soldiers before they could rally.
Lyssandra joined them moments later, her spear glinting in the firelight as she skewered an approaching enemy. "I hope you're ready for more company," she said. "They're regrouping fast."
Eren's gaze flickered to the central tent. "We don't need to fight them all. The real target is in there. Let's move."
The trio advanced toward the heart of the camp, cutting through waves of enemies. Blood splattered the ground, and the stench of burning wood and flesh filled the air.
The Commander's Tent
Bursting into the central tent, they found the camp's commander—a towering figure clad in black armor adorned with jagged spikes. His helm obscured his face, but his voice resonated with authority.
"So, the little rats come scurrying into my den," he said, drawing a massive sword that crackled with dark energy.
Eren stepped forward, flames igniting along his blade. "We're not rats. We're the ones who'll burn this den to the ground."
The commander laughed, a deep, menacing sound. "You'll try. And you'll fail."
The battle was brutal. The commander's strikes were powerful and relentless, each swing of his blade sending shockwaves through the tent. Eren matched him blow for blow, his flames clashing against the commander's dark energy.
Lyssandra and Kieran supported from the sides, but the commander was no ordinary opponent. His armor absorbed most of their attacks, and his movements were surprisingly agile for someone of his size.
Eren's body ached as he deflected another strike, but he refused to yield. "Lyssandra, Kieran—focus on his armor's joints! It's his weak point!"
They followed his command, and the tide of the battle began to turn. Lyssandra's spear found its mark, piercing the commander's knee and forcing him to falter. Kieran's arrows struck the gaps in his shoulder plates, weakening his defense.
With a final surge of power, Eren drove his flaming blade into the commander's chest. The dark energy around the armor dissipated with a thunderous crack, and the commander collapsed, lifeless.
A Grim Victory
The camp was in ruins, its soldiers either dead or scattered. The trio stood amidst the wreckage, their breaths heavy and their bodies battered.
"We did it," Lyssandra said, her voice tinged with exhaustion.
Kieran nodded, wiping blood from his face. "Barely. That commander was no joke."
Eren glanced at the fallen body of their foe, his expression grim. "This is just the beginning. There will be others like him—stronger, smarter. We need to be ready."
He turned to the remains of the central tent, where a map and several documents lay scattered on a table. "This might help," he said, picking up the papers. "If we can decipher their plans, we'll know what we're up against."
The Mercenaries' Verdict
Returning to Vorthal, the trio entered The Gilded Fang once more. The tavern fell silent as they walked in, their presence commanding attention. Catria, the mercenary leader, looked up from her drink and smirked.
"Well, well," she said, standing to meet them. "You actually did it."
Eren placed the commander's helm on the table before her. "We don't make empty promises."
Catria studied the helm for a moment, then nodded. "You've proven yourselves. The Broken Throne's days are numbered, and I'd like to be part of the fight."
She extended a hand, and Eren shook it firmly. "Welcome to the rebellion," he said.
As the group celebrated their new alliance, Eren's thoughts drifted to the map he had recovered. The battle ahead would be the hardest yet, but for the first time, he felt a glimmer of hope.
To Be Continued...