47- The Fall of House Velthorn

The storm had passed, but the scent of blood and smoke lingered in the air. Aldric stood at the gates of Darius Velthorn's keep, his cloak damp with rain and battle. Behind him, his forces had already breached the castle, cutting down the last remnants of resistance. The banners of House Velthorn, once a proud sigil of power, now lay trampled in the mud.

But Aldric was not here for conquest alone—he was here to reshape the rules of war itself.

As he stepped through the ruined halls, his soldiers swept through the castle, gathering every last servant, administrator, knight, and retainer. Aldric had ordered them all to be rounded up and confined in the lower halls of the keep. No witnesses. No stray ears to hear what was about to transpire.

By the time he reached the great hall, the only people left inside were those he trusted.

⸻

A Noble's End

Darius Velthorn sat lazily upon his high-backed chair, legs crossed, a goblet of wine in hand. Despite the chaos outside, he looked completely at ease. His remaining knights stood tense around him, gripping their weapons, but their will to fight had long since faded. They had surrendered, laying down their arms rather than throwing their lives away in a battle already lost.

Aldric had chosen to spare them—not out of mercy, but out of pragmatism.

These knights were seasoned warriors, trained and disciplined, and it would be a waste to execute them or let them go free so soon. Instead, they were detained as war prisoners, but not in the traditional sense. There would be no torture, no starvation, no mistreatment. Instead, they would be repurposed.

Under Aldric's orders, they would be imprisoned temporarily, kept under strict watch. But rather than languishing in chains, they would be trained—reformed, broken down, and rebuilt into something new. A secret force, forged not through fear, but through discipline and a carefully cultivated loyalty.

The kingdom's laws demanded that noble knights taken as prisoners be treated with dignity, yet Aldric had no intention of releasing them back to the nobles who had sent them to war. These men would serve again, but under a different master. When the time came, they would be given a choice: serve Aldric's new order or remain forever nameless, forgotten prisoners of war.

But that was a matter for later.

For now, there was still one more piece left to play.

—————

"So," Darius mused, swirling his wine. "It seems you've won. Congratulations. I must say, I expected more of a challenge." He took a slow sip, as if they were merely discussing politics rather than the destruction of his house. "But I suppose there's no helping it. You've proven yourself the better commander."

Aldric remained silent, his expression unreadable.

Darius leaned forward slightly. "I assume you're here for my surrender?" His smirk widened. "Very well. I, Count Darius Velthorn, surrender to you, Lord Aldric. As per kingdom law, I am to be taken into custody, my lands seized, and in due time, I will pay war reparations before being released. The way things always go." He gestured carelessly. "There, it's official."

Mara, standing to Aldric's right, tensed in anger. "Smug bastard," she muttered under her breath.

Aldric finally spoke, his voice calm. "You sound rather confident for a man who just lost everything."

Darius chuckled. "Come now, Aldric. You're an intelligent man. You know how the game is played. Killing a noble who surrenders is against kingdom law. I'll live comfortably under 'house arrest' for a few years, pay my dues, and then, well…" He raised his goblet mockingly. "Fortunes change. Who knows? I might even regain my standing with the right alliances."

Aldric studied him, noting the arrogance, the certainty. Darius truly believed he had outmaneuvered him.

That was his mistake.

Stepping forward, Aldric placed a firm hand on Darius' shoulder.

"Everyone," Aldric announced, his voice carrying through the chamber, "let it be known that Lord Darius Velthorn refused to surrender."

Darius blinked. His smirk wavered. "What?"

"He fought valiantly," Aldric continued, pacing the room, his tone resolute. "To the bitter end, he stood his ground, never once lowering his blade, never once begging for mercy. Such is the noble pride of House Velthorn. His name shall be remembered—not as a coward who surrendered, but as a warrior who died with honor."

Darius stiffened, his confident demeanor cracking. "You're lying."

Aldric turned, locking eyes with him. "Am I?"

Darius looked around the room—Mara, Red, Royce, Gerrod, and Gustov. None spoke. None objected.

"You can't do this," Darius hissed. "Killing a surrendering noble is a direct violation of kingdom law. The royal court will demand answers! The other nobles—"

"I don't care," Aldric interrupted, stepping closer. "You and your kind play the long game, always scheming, always waiting for the right opportunity to reclaim your power. But I don't play by your rules." His gaze hardened. "I cut problems at the root."

Darius swallowed, his confidence fading into something else—something closer to fear. "You'll start a war!"

Aldric drew his sword. "Then so be it."

For the first time that night, true terror flashed in Darius' eyes. "Wait—"

The blade flashed.

A clean strike. Straight through the heart.

Darius staggered, crimson blooming across his robes. His lips parted, as if to curse Aldric, but no words came. He collapsed to his knees, the light in his eyes fading.

Aldric pulled his sword free, letting the noble's body slump onto the cold stone floor.

The chamber was silent.

Gustov exhaled, rubbing his temples. "Well," he muttered, "that will buy us some time, but the kingdom will ask questions."

Aldric wiped his blade clean. "Then we make sure the answers are already decided before they come looking."

⸻

With Darius dead and his house fallen, the next concern was the fate of his lands. His domain was vast, nearly equal in size to Gustov's own. Control over it would determine the power balance moving forward.

Aldric and Gustov sat in the war room, a large map of the region spread before them. The candlelight flickered as they discussed the division of power.

"You expect compensation, of course," Gustov said, sipping from his goblet.

Aldric nodded. "I didn't march my forces here for nothing."

Gustov smirked. "You always were a pragmatic one." He traced a finger over the map. "Very well. You'll have half of Velthorn's territory, thats is neighboring your estate. That should serve as an adequate reward."

Aldric studied him, waiting for the catch.

"But," Gustov continued, leaning back, "I want something in return."

Aldric raised a brow. "Name it."

"Velthorn's estate is in ruins. I need resources to rebuild it, and more importantly, I need to ensure stability in the region. Your Raven's Nest has an abundance of supplies, does it not?"

Aldric exhaled. "You want me to provide food and aid for the people here."

Gustov nodded. "Exactly. If we leave them starving and desperate, we'll have revolts on our hands. But if we provide for them, they'll accept the new rule without resistance. It's a necessary trade."

Aldric considered it. "Fine. I'll send provisions from Raven's Nest, but I want additional land in exchange."

Gustov chuckled. "You drive a hard bargain. Done."

He paused, then added, "One more thing. Your farming techniques—especially the crop rotation methods and chicken breeding coops. I want them implemented in my territory as well."

Aldric crossed his arms. "And in return?"

"You'll receive a cut of the profits from the increased yield. A fair deal, wouldn't you say?"

Aldric thought for a moment, then nodded. "Agreed. Anything else?"

Gustov smirked. "Your heated flooring system. Winter is harsh in my lands, and that innovation could save lives."

Aldric tapped his fingers against the table. "That requires skilled craftsmen and specific materials."

"Which I will pay for," Gustov said smoothly. "Name your price."

Aldric studied him, then finally nodded. "Very well. I'll send veteran craftsman to oversee the construction, but I expect a long-term partnership in return."

Gustov laughed. "Of course. This is just the beginning of a very profitable alliance, my friend."

Aldric looked down at the map, at the lands they had seized, and the future they were shaping.

House Velthorn was no more.

And the world Aldric envisioned was slowly taking shape.