The Fall Of House Whiteguard (3)

Thank you, DereckESCL, for the 2 Power Stones.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The night was cold and eerie, and the camp felt like it was enveloped in a chilling embrace. The moon, low in the sky, cast long and haunting shadows across the tents. The air was still, and a heavy fog slowly crept in, making it difficult to see more than a few feet in front of you. The distant howling sound, which sounded almost like a pack of wolves, caused many Whiteguard soldiers to shift uncomfortably. Some of them even tightened their grip on their weapons, not knowing what could be lurking in the darkness. Despite this, others tried to combat the sense of fear by singing and cheering loudly, hoping to keep their spirits up and their minds off the eerie surroundings.

"And you're sure it will be a few days before the reinforcements arrive?" Captain Fredrick asked the man.

The man vigorously nodded, "I was in the room when the mayor was talking to Lady Fairchild, and she said a platoon of soldiers would be arriving in Sanlow within the next few days."

Fredrick sighed heavily as he grabbed a bag of coins and tossed it to the man, who quickly grabbed it and began counting.

"Fucking traitor." Fredrick mumbled as he left the tent. 

He had been tasked with capturing the village of Sanlow with just under fifty men. It was not an impossible task, but now that a platoon of Maxamus soldiers was headed this way, he was in a race against time.

He couldn't help but wonder how they had managed to discover his camp so quickly. As he scanned the area, a shiver ran down his spine, and he couldn't shake the feeling that there were spies lurking along the border, responsible for exposing his whereabouts. 

"Private." He said, turning to the soldier who was guarding his tent, "Where's Perry?"

The private snapped to attention and gave a crisp salute before responding, "Sir! The Master Sergeant took a squad to investigate a disturbance near the south of the camp."

The tranquility of the camp was abruptly shattered by the deafening sound of blaring alarms, instantly jolting everyone into a state of high alert. Startled and adrenaline-fueled, they swiftly reached for their weapons, their senses heightened as they prepared for any potential threat.

"With me." Fredrick commanded as he drew his sword and headed toward the south entrance.

"Sir!" The private nearly yelled as he readied his weapon and followed.

As Fredrick and his troops hurried towards the south entrance, their hearts were pounding with anticipation. However, as they approached, their excitement quickly turned into fear. There stood Lord Maxamus, standing just ten meters away, with a sly grin on his face.

Despite being outnumbered and surrounded by Fredrick's troops, Lord Maxamus appeared unbothered. His calm demeanor only added to the tension in the air. The situation became even more alarming when they noticed Master Sergeant Perry lying on the ground, injured and helpless. Lord Maxamus had his foot on Perry's chest as if daring anyone to come closer.

Frederick's mind raced as he tried to think of an answer. The latest reports put Lord Maxamus at Maxamus Manor. Rumor was that Duke Maxamus had disappeared, leaving his son in charge of the Dukedom.

"Soldiers of Whiteguard." Lord Maxamus's chilling tone reached all ears, "Surrender. Those of you who surrender will become prisoners of war. I promise that no harm will come to you, and you will be fed thrice daily. Your accommodations will be adequate." He paused momentarily before continuing, "Or refuse and die." 

"Men!" Fredrick shouted before his words could settle in, "We bring his head to Duke Whiteguard, and we will be hailed as heroes!"

Ciaran sighed as he watched the enemy cheer and prepare to attack. He wondered if his speech was too long as he brought his foot down and caved in the soldier's chest below him. The sound of metal caving in, followed by the sound of bones crunching, and finally ending with the soldier's blood-curdling scream caused a falter in the enemy's charge.

"Kill them all." Ciaran commanded as his shadow contorted, and sixteen menacing figures appeared, "But bring me the traitor." He added as the figures disappeared and began slaughtering the enemy troops.

Fredrick watched in horror as half of his army was suddenly decimated. It was as if the enemy had appeared out of thin air, striking with deadly precision. Bodies fell to the ground with slit throats and chest wounds, their faces frozen in shock and terror. The remaining soldiers were thrown into a state of panic, scrambling to locate the source of the attack. In the confusion, orders were ignored, and spells were flung about recklessly, causing even more casualties among their own ranks.

 In the center of it all stood Lord Maxamus, who had just killed Perry and was now standing still as if waiting for his next victim. Suddenly, he noticed a narrow path that seemed to open up before him. Without hesitation, he decided to take the risk and charge forward. He used his mana to enhance his speed, feeling the adrenaline rush through his veins as he ran towards Lord Maxamus. If he could strike down this monster, he could end it all.

"For my men!" he roared as he kicked off with his foot and thrust forward like a spear.

As if time had slowed down, Fredrick locked eyes with Lord Maxamus. The tension in the air was palpable, and Fredrick's heart raced as he swung his sword towards him. However, Lord Maxamus seemed to lean out of the way with ease, leaving Fredrick's sword to meet nothing but air. 

Fredrick's hope began to fade as he realized he was vulnerable and exposed. Suddenly, he heard a sickening sound, like bones cracking, followed by a searing pain in his chest. His vision blurred, but he managed to look down and saw Lord Maxamus's arm had pierced his chest with alarming ease. The pain was overwhelming, and Fredrick's knees buckled beneath him as he struggled to remain upright.

"Mon…ster." Fredrick struggled to say.

"Me?" Lord Maxamus asked in confusion. "I offered you terms of surrender, and you spat on that." He removed his mysteriously cleaned hand from Fredrick's chest and held a crystal no bigger than the size of his pinkie finger. 

Ciaran stood still as the soldier collapsed on the ground and did not rise. He then turned his attention to the crystal in his hand. "It's strange to think that all of our magical abilities come from this small crystal within us," he murmured to himself, his voice barely above a whisper. With a flick of his wrist, he released the crystal, and it fell onto his shadow, casting a faint glow. The crystal then slowly sank into the shadow, disappearing without a trace.

As he finally tore his gaze from the ominous shadow, his eyes fell upon a scene of complete and utter victory. His loyal Death Knights knelt before him in reverence. In the distance, the fallen bodies of the enemy soldiers littered the ground, a testament to the power and ruthlessness of his forces. The air was thick with the scent of blood and sweat, and the only sound was the heavy breathing of the exhausted warriors. 

"Status." He said.

"Only a few minor wounds. Nothing too serious." The lead Death Knight said.

"Zoverth?" He asked when he noticed the feisty Half-orc was missing.

"She's hunting the traitor." Came the reply.

Ciaran sighed. Zoverth was too wild and untamed, as her bloodlust and battle frenzy made her a liability. If he was to promote her as the Captain of his Death Guard, he needed to tame her as soon as possible.

"Let her have her fun." Ciaran said after consideration, "Just make sure she brings the traitor back alive."

"Understood." They said in unison before disappearing.