chapter 17.1

The morning silence still cloaked the central headquarter when Alcard received his summons from Oldman. His steps were firm as he made his way down the dimly lit corridors, the scent of aged parchment, ink, and faint traces of cold steel lingering in the air. The headquarters was always in a state of controlled chaos—men and women moving with purpose, voices murmuring in hushed tones over maps and reports—but today, an unusual stillness filled the hallways. It was a silence that carried weight, a prelude to something far more significant than routine orders.

As he entered Oldman's office, the scene was as expected—a simple, unadorned room, its walls lined with shelves stacked with scrolls and maps, a large wooden desk at the center covered with scattered documents, most detailing the strategic state of The Wall. Oldman sat behind the desk, his eyes sharp with calculation, like a man who had spent long nights weaving intricate plans, preparing for something inevitable.

Without wasting a second on pleasantries, Oldman spoke, his voice heavy with authority. "I have a mission for you, Alcard. One that outweighs any task you've undertaken before."

Alcard remained standing, his posture unwavering, but his instincts sharpened at the tone of Oldman's words. He knew that whenever the old leader called him directly, it was never for something trivial. "Is this about Tanivar?" he asked, recalling their last discussion regarding the ruthless lord who had begun overstepping boundaries that should have never been crossed.

Oldman gave a slow, deliberate nod, his expression growing darker. "Yes. His actions have grown more concerning over the past few days. I need you to find out what he's plotting before it's too late."

Alcard crossed his arms over his chest, his mind already shifting into tactical mode. "So, we're still not eliminating him?" His tone held a tinge of impatience. He had long awaited the moment when The Wall would finally put an end to Tanivar's games.

Oldman's gaze hardened, his voice carrying a weight that could not be ignored. "Not yet. We need undeniable proof. If we act too soon, without solid evidence, the other lords will twist the situation to make us the villains. If that happens, we lose whatever fragile trust we still have from Middle Earth."

Alcard clenched his jaw but nodded. He understood the logic behind Oldman's words, though every instinct in his body screamed for swift action. Tanivar was a menace, a power-hungry manipulator who treated The Wall as his personal den of mercenaries—a man who could not be allowed to exist any longer than necessary.

Oldman leaned forward, his hands clasped together on the table. "Your task is simple, but it carries great risk," he said gravely. "Uncover his movements. Find evidence that he's working against us—whether through secret alliances, illicit trade, or an outright plan to undermine The Wall. Once we have irrefutable proof, we will bring him down in a way that no one can contest."

A smirk tugged at the corner of Alcard's lips, though his eyes remained sharp. "Finally, we take the first step. Tanivar has been playing with fire for too long, trying to turn us into pawns for his own gain. I've been waiting for this moment."

But before his eagerness could build into something reckless, Oldman raised a hand in warning. "Be careful, Alcard. Tanivar is no ordinary lord. He's cunning, with powerful allies who would rather see us fall than risk losing his favor. He will go to any lengths to protect himself. Do not make any moves that would expose your intentions. Do not let him suspect that we are watching."

Alcard met his gaze, his own eyes filled with unwavering determination. "I understand. I'll move in the shadows, leaving no trace. When I return, I'll have the evidence we need to ensure his downfall."

Oldman nodded approvingly, then reached for a set of reports from the pile on his desk. He handed them over to Alcard. "These are reports from some of our scouts across Middle Earth. Unusual movements. Suspicious dealings. You'll find that Tanivar's name appears far too frequently for comfort. Use this as your starting point."

Alcard took the documents, scanning them briefly. Mentions of unmarked supply convoys, clandestine meetings with unnamed individuals, and small contingents of troops being deployed to unknown locations—all signs of something brewing beneath the surface. They weren't enough to make a public accusation, but they were enough to ignite suspicion.

"This will do," Alcard muttered, slipping the reports into his cloak. "The rest, I'll uncover in the field."

He did not linger. After ensuring his weapons were secured and donning his travel-worn cloak, he made his way outside. The cold morning air greeted him as he stepped beyond the fortress walls, the sky above painted in the deep blue of dawn, streaked with wisps of golden light. Despite the chill, something within him burned hotter than ever.

At the stables, he approached his loyal black warhorse, fastening the saddle with practiced efficiency. The beast huffed softly as he mounted, sensing its master's determination. With a flick of the reins, Alcard urged it forward, setting out on the dirt road that stretched into the unknown.

As the headquarters faded into the distance behind him, his mind raced ahead, weaving through the possibilities that lay ahead. He knew that this was more than just another mission. Tanivar wasn't just a corrupt lord—he was a symptom of a far greater disease, one that had been festering in Middle Earth for years.

His fingers instinctively tightened around the reins. "Tanivar… you've been playing your game for too long." His thoughts darkened as his horse picked up speed, hooves pounding against the earth. "This time, I'll make sure you don't get another turn."

The sky above darkened slightly as he rode into the unknown, the looming clouds casting long shadows over the road ahead. The path he had chosen was dangerous, riddled with deceit, betrayal, and the unseen hands of greater forces at play. But Alcard was no stranger to such perils. He had lived in the darkness for years, and if necessary, he would tear through the shadows to find the truth.

As the wind howled through the trees and the world around him seemed to whisper warnings of the dangers ahead, Alcard simply narrowed his eyes and pressed forward. There was no turning back. Not anymore.

His mission had begun.