Chapter 14

The Ashen Order's presence was no longer a whispered rumor—it had become a tangible threat. After the recent attacks near the second border, reports flooded into the Vanguard Imperial of similar incidents across the empire. One report stood out: the Ashen Order had launched an assault on Carthain, a bustling city and a critical stronghold for the empire's resources.

Captain Velrik wasted no time. "We're dispatching reinforcements to Carthain," he announced to the gathered knights. "This is no ordinary attack. Our sources indicate a deliberate strike to cripple the empire's supply chain and morale. Arren, you'll lead your squad and rendezvous with Carthain's defenders. Be ready for anything."

Arren nodded, the weight of responsibility settling on his shoulders. He looked around at his companions—Noor, Mira, Brynn, and Torren. Each of them was seasoned and capable, but this mission felt different. The stakes were higher than ever.

As the squad prepared to depart, Arren made the difficult decision to leave Fri behind. "Stay here and keep an eye on things," he said, patting the pup's head. Fri whined in protest but obediently curled up on Arren's bed.

The journey to Carthain was tense. The once-vibrant roads leading to the city were eerily quiet, and the few travelers they encountered spoke of shadowy figures and monstrous creatures haunting the outskirts. Arren kept his thoughts to himself, but his unease grew with each passing mile.

When they finally reached Carthain, the city was in disarray. Smoke rose from several districts, and the air was thick with the acrid stench of burning wood and flesh. The defenders were holding the line, but it was clear they were overwhelmed.

Arren and his squad immediately joined the fray. Brynn climbed to a vantage point, her arrows finding their marks with deadly precision. Noor directed the defenders, his strategic mind quickly identifying weak points in their formation. Mira tended to the wounded, her healing magic keeping soldiers alive long enough to return to the fight. Torren charged into the thick of the battle, his massive hammer smashing through the monstrous foes with brutal efficiency.

Arren waded into the chaos, his sword blazing with fire. He kept his lightning affinity subdued, relying on his fire magic to avoid drawing unwanted attention. The monsters were unlike anything he'd seen before—hulking abominations stitched together from various creatures, their eyes glowing with an unnatural red light.

As the battle raged on, Arren noticed a pattern. The monsters weren't attacking randomly; they were targeting key structures—supply depots, barracks, and defensive towers.

"Noor!" Arren called out, cutting down a snarling beast. "They're going for the city's infrastructure. We need to stop them before they cripple Carthain entirely."

Noor nodded, quickly relaying orders to redirect their forces. The squad split up, each member tasked with protecting a critical area. Arren found himself defending a supply depot on the city's western edge.

The fighting was relentless. Wave after wave of monsters poured into the depot, their claws and fangs gleaming in the firelight. Arren's muscles burned, but he refused to falter. Each strike of his blade was precise and lethal, his fire magic scorching the ground and driving back the attackers.

In the midst of the chaos, Arren spotted a figure that stood out. Clad in dark robes and adorned with the sigil of the Ashen Order, the figure was chanting in an ancient tongue. Tendrils of dark magic flowed from their hands, shaping new monstrosities from the corpses of the fallen.

Arren charged, his sword igniting with a fierce blaze. The dark sorcerer turned, their crimson eyes narrowing as they raised a hand to unleash a wave of shadowy energy. Arren dodged, the magic searing the ground where he had stood moments before.

The two clashed, fire meeting shadow in a furious exchange. The sorcerer was powerful, but Arren's training and determination gave him the edge. With a final, devastating blow, he struck them down, their body collapsing in a heap of smoldering robes.

As the sorcerer fell, the tide of the battle shifted. The remaining monsters, deprived of their creator, became disorganized and easier to defeat. By nightfall, the defenders of Carthain had driven back the attackers.

Arren regrouped with his squad, their exhaustion evident but their resolve unbroken. Noor approached, his expression grim.

"This wasn't just an attack," Noor said. "It was a message. The Ashen Order wants to show us they can strike anywhere, anytime."

Arren nodded, his gaze drifting to the horizon. "And they're testing us. They want to see how we'll respond."

The squad spent the next few days helping Carthain recover. Mira worked tirelessly to heal the wounded, while Torren repaired damaged weapons and armor. Brynn scouted the surrounding area for any lingering threats, and Noor coordinated with the city's leaders to strengthen their defenses.

Arren, however, couldn't shake the feeling that the attack was only the beginning. He spent his nights poring over maps and reports, trying to piece together the Ashen Order's plans.

One evening, as he walked through the quiet streets of Carthain, he felt a familiar presence. He turned to see Lyara standing in the shadows, her expression unreadable.

"You've been busy," she said, her voice soft but carrying an edge.

"You knew this was coming," Arren replied, his tone accusatory.

Lyara nodded. "I warned you the Ashen Order was growing in power. But even I didn't anticipate they'd move so quickly."

"Why are you here?" Arren asked.

"To give you a warning," she said. "This was just a test. The real threat is still to come. And if you're not ready, the empire will fall."

Before Arren could press her for more information, Lyara disappeared into the night, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

As he returned to the barracks, Arren's resolve hardened. The Ashen Order was a threat unlike any the empire had faced before, and he knew the battles ahead would demand everything he had—and more.