Chapter 7: A Gathering Storm

The Citadel of Dusk was finally at peace—at least on the surface.

The fortress stood tall against the night sky, its towering walls bathed in the glow of torches. The banners of Ezren Veyrion now replaced those of the fallen lord who once ruled this domain. Soldiers patrolled the perimeter, their armor clinking softly as they moved through the corridors.

Yet, inside the throne chamber, tension lingered.

Ezren sat at the head of a long, stone table, his crimson eyes locked onto his newest ally—the dark elf assassin, Sylara Nightveil.

Across from him, Lily Eryndale, the Ice Queen, remained cautious, her cold gaze never leaving Sylara's face. Darius, the Blademaster, stood nearby, arms crossed, still skeptical of the assassin's sudden shift in allegiance.

A heavy silence stretched between them.

Ezren finally spoke.

"You had a mission to kill me. Yet, here you sit, alive and well. That tells me two things."

He leaned forward, lacing his fingers together.

"One, you're not just some mindless blade-for-hire. And two, your employer is powerful enough that betraying them should mean certain death."

Sylara smirked, resting her chin on her hand. "You're sharp, my lord. But then again, I'd expect nothing less from the man who saw through my presence before I even struck."

Lily's patience thinned. "Enough games. Who sent you?"

Sylara chuckled. "Straight to business? Fine, fine."

She reached into her cloak and pulled out a small, silver emblem. She tossed it onto the table, where it landed with a soft clink.

Ezren recognized it instantly.

A sigil of a serpent wrapped around a black sun—the mark of The Obsidian Order.

Darius's jaw tightened. "Those bastards again…"

Lily's voice was ice. "So, they're finally making their move."

Ezren traced a finger over the emblem. The Obsidian Order—a secretive cabal known for toppling empires from the shadows. Assassins, spies, and manipulators who never acted without a reason.

If they had sent an assassin after him, that meant—

They saw him as a threat.

Ezren smirked. "Good."

Sylara raised an eyebrow. "Good? Most men would be terrified knowing the Order wants them dead."

Ezren chuckled, his crimson eyes glowing in the dim light. "That just means I'm doing something right."

Darius exhaled sharply. "Still, it's a problem. If the Obsidian Order is involved, it won't stop with one assassin."

Sylara leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms. "You're right. And that's exactly why I switched sides."

Ezren studied her. "Explain."

The dark elf's usual smirk faded slightly. "The Order never fails. At least, that's what they believe. But you—" she pointed a finger at Ezren "—you were supposed to be dead the moment I set foot in this fortress. Yet, here we are."

She tilted her head, violet eyes gleaming. "You intrigued me. But more importantly, I saw something I never expected."

Lily frowned. "And what's that?"

Sylara's smirk returned. "Doubt."

She tapped the table. "The moment my superiors heard I failed, they hesitated. They didn't immediately send another assassin. They started whispering among themselves, questioning how you saw through me."

Ezren chuckled. "So, I've shaken their confidence."

Sylara nodded. "Exactly. And that's dangerous for them. The Obsidian Order thrives on fear and secrecy. The moment the world realizes they can fail, their power starts to crack."

Darius leaned forward. "So, what's their next move?"

Sylara shrugged. "If I had to guess? They'll wait. They'll send spies, not assassins. They'll want to learn more about you before trying again."

Ezren smiled. "Good. That means we have time to prepare."

He turned to Lily. "How many soldiers remain in the fortress?"

Lily's expression was unreadable. "After the battle, we lost nearly three hundred. We still have around two thousand, but most are injured. They need time to recover."

Darius added, "Supplies are low as well. The previous ruler hoarded resources but didn't distribute them properly. We'll need to secure more provisions soon."

Ezren considered their options. The fortress was strong, but it wasn't self-sufficient.

If the Obsidian Order wasn't the only enemy watching him, then it was only a matter of time before other factions began moving.

He needed to expand. Quickly.

Sylara watched him carefully. "You're planning something, aren't you?"

Ezren smirked. "Always."

He stood, placing his hands on the table. "If we want to survive what's coming, we can't stay on the defensive. We need to expand our reach."

Lily's eyes narrowed. "Are you suggesting another campaign? So soon?"

Ezren nodded. "I don't plan on waiting for my enemies to strike first."

Darius grinned. "I was hoping you'd say that."

Sylara tapped a finger against her lips, thoughtful. "If you're looking for an easy target, there's a nearby stronghold to the east. The 'Stormfang Keep.'"

Ezren raised an eyebrow. "Stormfang Keep?"

Sylara nodded. "It's controlled by a minor noble, Lord Edric Valhorn. He's weak. A coward who only holds power because of his mercenaries."

Darius scoffed. "Mercenaries? Tch. They'll flee the moment the battle turns against them."

Ezren considered the opportunity.

If he took Stormfang Keep, he could expand his domain significantly.

More land. More resources. More soldiers.

"Then it's decided," Ezren said, his crimson eyes gleaming. "We march on Stormfang Keep."

Lily exhaled softly. "Then we should begin preparations immediately."

Sylara grinned, twirling her dagger between her fingers. "This is going to be fun."

Ezren's smirk widened. "Oh, it will be."

As the meeting ended, a strong gust of wind howled through the fortress, rattling the windows.

Beyond the walls, a storm was brewing.

And Ezren Veyrion was about to claim his next throne.

End of Chapter 7.