Everyone Should Have a Turn

Nyx moved with measured precision, his steps silent and calculated as he closed the distance between himself and the towering Orc Commander. Each movement was deliberate, his posture unwavering as if he were a force of nature moving inexorably toward its target.

The Orc Commander's glowing crimson eyes locked onto Nyx, a flicker of recognition flashing within their feral depths. It roared again, a guttural sound that reverberated like a war drum across the chaotic battlefield. The empowered Woodland Orcs echoed their leader's cry, their assault on the camp reaching a fever pitch.

But Nyx remained indifferent, his gaze cold and expression as unreadable as stone.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed movement in the distance, shadows emerging from the dense forest near the camp's perimeter. Small figures, different in shape and color from the brutish Orcs, slipped through the underbrush, their advance almost imperceptible to the untrained eye.

_______________________

Six Days Earlier

In the dimly lit Warden's Office, Grall knelt before Nyx, the tension in the air palpable.

"Lord Nyx," Grall began, his voice steady but laced with hesitation. "I have a question and hope you can enlighten me."

"Ask." Nyx's tone was curt, his attention fixed on the intricate carvings of a golden coin he toyed with absentmindedly.

"Are we truly going after the princess with just our small group? I have faith in your judgment, but… you're the only capable one among us." Grall's head remained bowed, his voice betraying a hint of doubt.

Nyx turned the coin in his fingers, its surface catching the dim light. "If we bring too many, we'll draw attention—especially from the nobles. Even if we were to hire mercenaries, do you believe their movements wouldn't raise suspicion?"

Grall placed a hand under his chin, mulling over the possibilities. "Large mercenary groups aren't uncommon, but…"

"They can't be trusted," Nyx interjected. "Even if they accomplish the task, what guarantees they won't sell their silence afterward? And if we were to silence them ourselves, their disappearance would create more noise."

Grall nodded slowly. "It's not uncommon for mercenaries to die, my lord."

Nyx's gaze shifted to Grall, his eyes piercing. "It's not about whether they die. It's about how they die. And there are eyes watching us—more specifically, Viscount Wellian. If we attract too much attention, we lose our advantage."

Grall's brow furrowed, a flicker of unease crossing his face. "I see. Thank you, Lord Nyx, for addressing this subordinate's concerns." He paused, then added, "But how will we fend off attacks and deal with unforeseen threats at the same time?"

Nyx turned his back to Grall, the golden coin flipping once in his hand before he clasped it tightly. "Have you forgotten who you serve, Grall?"

The room fell silent, the weight of Nyx's words settling heavily on Grall's shoulders. A slow smile spread across his face as he bowed deeply. "Of course, Lord Nyx. Forgive my doubts."

_______________________________

Back to the Present

The figures emerging from the forest came into view at last—kobolds and goblins, dozens upon dozens of them. Their disjointed, hunched forms moved with eerie synchronization, their glowing eyes fixed on the battlefield ahead. Unlike the frenzied Woodland Orcs, these creatures were unnaturally calm, their movements controlled, purposeful.

There were nearly a hundred of them, a veritable swarm that moved like an extension of Nyx himself.

For weaker monster like them, Nyx could control them for a whole 18 Hours

"Good," Nyx muttered to himself, his voice low but resolute, "The Scouts are Back"