The Death of Ard

The second-in-command cried out in alarm, his voice thin with terror. “But my lord, without the dark moon’s blessing, the sacrifice cannot possibly claim everyone in the city! At most, it will only trap them and weaken their spirits. The walls of Pekoin are high and strong… Mmph!”

In response to the question, Taylor’s hand shot out like a striking viper, his fingers closing around the man’s throat, silencing him mid-sentence.

“Fool,” Taylor hissed, his voice a low, dangerous rasp that slithered through the silent camp. “I detest self-righteous, by-the-book idiots like you most of all. Do you think the Grand Holy Church’s reinforcements will give us the luxury of waiting for the dark moon tomorrow? If I’m not mistaken, there isn’t a single ordinary resident left in that city right now; it’s filled with their elite soldiers. Attacking now, while they are unprepared for us to strike so soon, gives us a much higher chance of success. Do you understand?!”

The man’s face turned a mottled purple from lack of oxygen. He managed to choke out a single, strangled word.

“Yes…”

“If you understand, then go and arrange our men!” Taylor released his grip, letting the man collapse to the ground. “Order a combat unit to block the main road between the church and Pekoin. If they find anyone passing through, kill them all. I’d rather you kill a hundred innocents than let one slip by.”

“Yes, yes!” The man scrambled away on all fours like a beaten dog.

Taylor watched him go, his scarred face a dark mask of contempt. Useless. Can’t even handle a simple task. If killing the second-in-command right after the leader wouldn’t cause a logistical nightmare, the man would have died the moment he dared to question him.

Taylor sat down in a heavy chair his followers had prepared, closing his predatory, wolf-like eyes. A suffocating, heavy atmosphere descended upon the camp. The cultists held their breath, enduring the agonizing wait for the appointed time, the silence broken only by the rustle of leaves and the pounding of their own hearts.

A quarter of an hour later, the second-in-command rushed back to report, his face ashen.

“Cardinal Taylor, the… the men watching the church… still no word from them.”

Taylor’s eyes snapped open, blazing with a murderous, unholy light. His voice was hard and sharp as shattered steel. “Begin the attack. We must take Pekoin City tonight, at any cost!”

“Yes, sir!”

———

Inside Pekoin City, the Marquis, now clad in full, gleaming military armor, patrolled the city walls. All around him stood his elite soldiers, a formal combat unit ready for war, their faces grim and determined under the torchlight.

Considering the uncertainties of war and the cunning of the heretical cult, he had already secretly evacuated his family and the city’s residents under the guise of purchasing wedding supplies. The returning wyrm-coaches had been filled not with silks and spices, but with military supplies and elite troops. Pekoin City was now a fortress, armed to the teeth and waiting in silence.

He had Yexi to thank for much of this. Because of her silent, unseen presence, any spies or suspicious individuals who lingered in the city for too long would simply vanish, leaving the enemy completely blind to the situation within the walls.

According to Ard’s intelligence and speculation, the most likely time for the cult’s attack was the following night, under the rising dark moon. The dark moon was the totem of the Krass Order; it was said their followers could draw a terrible power from it, increasing their combat strength. Although the Marquis largely believed Ard, and the evidence was compelling, he was not one to blindly trust a single piece of intelligence.

Information was a record of the past; it did not guarantee the future. A competent leader’s duty was to use intelligence to anticipate all future possibilities and prepare for them, not to rigidly follow a single plan. The enemy was alive; they would adapt. Until the Grand Holy Church’s reinforcements arrived, he could not afford to let his guard down for a single moment.

Unbeknownst to each other, the Marquis and Cardinal Taylor had just completed a deadly game of strategy that would decide the fate of the entire region.

“Father… no, General. I have inspected the southeast sectors. No anomalies found.”

The one who reported was the Marquis’s eldest son, Klieg, dressed in a crisp military uniform, his eyes bright and resolute, showing no fear of the impending crisis. He had voluntarily stayed behind to help defend his home.

“Good.” The Marquis was very pleased with his son. Though he might still be lacking in worldly experience, that was something that could only be gained in the crucible of battle to come.

“I’m sorry, my son,” the Marquis said, a hint of guilt in his voice. “We had just confirmed your engagement to Elienla yesterday, and today you are separated by this unfortunate business.”

Klieg shook his head with a firm smile. “It is my duty, Father. And I am doing this to protect our home, to protect her.”

“Haha, well said. You are my son, through and through.” The Marquis clapped his son on the shoulder, his heart filled with a fierce pride.

“General, we have a situation! The night-vision scopes have spotted a massive beast tide a hundred miles out, heading this way! The cause is unknown!”

A messenger arrived with an urgent, breathless report. The Marquis’s eyes narrowed. So, they’ve made their move.

“Order all units to prepare for battle!”

“Yes, sir!”

“General, I’m heading to my post.” Klieg saluted his father and left to take his position on the wall.

Watching his son depart, the Marquis murmured to the wind, “So, it has finally begun. I hope the Grand Holy Church can hurry.”

———

Meanwhile, Yexi’s group, having packed their gear, was riding their swift drakes through the night, the powerful beasts’ wings beating a frantic rhythm as they rushed back toward Pekoin City.

On the road, Ard, lost in thought, suddenly had a chilling realization. He urged his drake closer to Reiss’s. “Is it really alright that you eliminated those scouts? Won’t the enemy notice when they don’t receive a report? It could be trouble if they change their plans.”

Reiss, taking a drag from his cigarette, the ember glowing in the dark, replied, “Well, that’s true. But we had to get rid of them, otherwise we wouldn’t have been able to leave. Those cultists were monitoring us with their lives on the line. When we made contact, we found that although their power was high, they weren’t skilled in actual combat. Their strength came from sacrificing their own life force, which does increase the efficiency of their surveillance, but they don’t live long afterwards. If we hadn’t cleared them out, we would have been met with suicide attacks the moment we stepped out the door.”

Ard frowned, his gut twisting with anxiety. “I’m worried about the Marquis. If the enemy realizes the Grand Holy Church has made a move, they might adjust their plans on the fly.”

Reiss chuckled, a grim, humorless sound. “There are only two possibilities if they change their plans: either they cancel the attack, or they launch it early. Both are advantageous to us. Kid, I know what you’re worried about. Don’t underestimate the head of the Trefle family. He didn’t become a marquis just by inheritance; he’s also one of this kingdom’s most decorated generals. If I’m not mistaken, Pekoin City is already a fortress of war. Without the dark moon’s blessing, it won’t be easy for those cultists to break through. But still… we should hurry back, just in case.”

“Stop. Trouble,” Yexi called out, her voice a sharp crack in the night. She reined in her speeding drake, bringing it to a sudden halt. She looked coldly at the dense woods lining both sides of the road. “I smell blood. And a heavy killing intent.”

“It seems the road back won’t be so peaceful,” Reiss said, his eyes scanning the trees as shadowy figures began to emerge from the darkness. Each one held a wicked-looking, serrated weapon, their clothes stained with fresh blood, their scarlet eyes fixed on them with inhuman fanaticism.

“It seems some poor travelers have already met their end. I hadn’t heard of any attacks on this road before,” Seleu observed calmly as the enemy surrounded them, cutting off their path. “Does this mean this was a sudden arrangement?”

Yexi analyzed, her voice low, “The smell of blood is fresh. It hasn’t been long.”

Ard drew his longsword, the steel singing softly in the night air. “They realized their plan was compromised and adjusted? If they intend to hold us up here, then Pekoin City…”

Reiss threw his cigarette to the ground and crushed it with his boot, the small light extinguished. “The battle has likely already begun. We need to finish these guys quickly. But be careful, they’ll blow themselves up before they die.”

As he spoke, two of the cultists had already fallen, their throats slit by a phantom blade. Yexi was already in motion, a flicker of silver in the darkness, a deadly wraith reaping the lives of the cultists.

Spurred on by the hot spray of blood, the fanatics charged, a thick black aura of malice swirling around them as they screamed praises to their dark god.

“Be careful! These men are desperate!” Reiss grabbed his massive battle-axe from his drake’s saddle, sent the creature away with a slap, and began to swing. Each arc of his axe was a wave of destruction, taking several lives at once. Seleu, too, wielded a chain-sword, the silver links a flexible dragon of death that painted the ground red with every whip-like crack. But the zealots, knowing no fear, continued their relentless advance, detonating themselves with their last breath as long as they were close.

Compared to the others, Ard was struggling. Unable to use his Ki, he could only rely on his raw physical conditioning and swordsmanship. His longsword was not enough to kill the magically-enhanced cultists cleanly, giving them the chance to retaliate with a final, explosive attack.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Ard was beginning to understand the terror of a suicide bomber. If not for the inhuman resilience of his Black Dragon constitution, he would have been blown to pieces by now. His clothes were in tatters, and blood flowed freely from numerous wounds, the dark energy from the blasts clinging to him like a curse.

Though Reiss and the others were masters, they were being forced apart by the sheer number of self-detonating enemies and could not spare a moment to help Ard. If anyone could help him, it would be Yexi, who was still weaving through the battlefield like a deadly ghost. But she showed no sign of breaking her deadly rhythm for his sake.

Time dragged on. Ard was covered in wounds, and the black aura from the explosions clung to them, a curse that sapped his strength and chilled him to the bone. He panted heavily, the inefficient hacking and slashing draining his stamina at an alarming rate. The curse, though weakened by his draconic blood, was making its presence felt, a heavy weariness settling deep in his bones.

Even so, Ard had no intention of giving up. He had been given this precious second chance. He would not fall here, at the very beginning!

Suddenly, Ard didn’t know if his eyes were playing tricks on him, but he saw a flash of silver light beside him. Then, his vision blurred, the sounds of battle faded to a dull roar, and the world tilted, fading to black.

Ard collapsed to the ground, a cultist’s longsword piercing straight through his heart.