Chapter 8: The Road to War

The night air was crisp, carrying the scent of burning torches and the distant echo of marching footsteps. Ezren Veyrion stood atop the fortress walls, overlooking the vast army gathering in the courtyard below. His forces were scarred but unbroken, battle-hardened from their last conquest. Now, they prepared for their next campaign—the march on Stormfang Keep.

The banners of his rule, a crimson sigil shaped like a black sun, fluttered in the wind.

"Everything is in place," Lily Eryndale reported, stepping beside him. She wore her usual silver-blue armor, her long platinum hair flowing as she observed the soldiers below. "We have two thousand men. Half are still recovering, but they can march if necessary."

Ezren didn't reply immediately. His crimson eyes scanned the encampment, taking in the sight of soldiers sharpening their blades, reinforcing armor, and whispering battle plans. Some were still new to war, but others had fought beside him since the beginning. They knew what was at stake.

Darius, the Blademaster, approached, his heavy boots thudding against the stone. "The scouts returned. They've confirmed Lord Edric Valhorn still holds Stormfang Keep, but his mercenary forces are smaller than we thought—only about twelve hundred men."

Ezren smirked. "So the rumors were true. His army is weak."

Sylara Nightveil appeared from the shadows, twirling one of her daggers. "Weak, yes. But not stupid."

Lily raised an eyebrow. "Explain."

Sylara leaned against the stone wall. "Valhorn knows he's outmatched. He's already sent riders to neighboring lords, begging for reinforcements. If we don't strike quickly, he might actually get them."

Darius scowled. "Then we shouldn't waste time. The longer we wait, the more unpredictable this becomes."

Ezren turned away from the battlements and faced his commanders. "We march at dawn."

The March Begins

The army set out before the first rays of sunlight touched the horizon. The clatter of hooves and the rhythmic beat of marching feet echoed through the valley. Ezren rode at the front, his black warhorse cutting through the cold mist as his forces followed.

The journey to Stormfang Keep would take two days if they kept a steady pace. The road ahead was filled with rugged terrain, forests dense with hidden dangers, and watchful eyes that would report their every move.

Sylara, riding beside him, kept her hood pulled low. "I don't like this," she muttered.

Ezren glanced at her. "What part?"

She nodded toward the treeline. "We're being watched."

Lily, who had been silent, tightened her grip on her reins. "Scouts?"

Sylara smirked. "No. If they were just scouts, I wouldn't be concerned. But there's something else… something more deliberate."

Ezren's gaze flickered toward the dense forest ahead. "A trap?"

Darius rode up, his greatsword resting against his saddle. "If they wanted to ambush us, they'd have already struck."

Ezren considered this. Whoever was watching them wasn't attacking yet—but why?

"Increase our forward scouts," Ezren ordered. "If something is waiting for us, I want to know before it finds us."

Darius nodded, signaling to a nearby officer. Moments later, a dozen mounted scouts rode ahead, disappearing into the morning fog.

Ezren turned his attention back to Sylara. "You said Valhorn sent for reinforcements. Any idea who might answer his call?"

Sylara sighed. "He's a coward. That means he'll try to get help from someone stronger."

Lily's eyes darkened. "That could mean the Ashen Tribunal."

Darius cursed under his breath. "If that's the case, we're running out of time."

The Ashen Tribunal was an order of warlords known for their brutal tactics. If they decided to aid Valhorn, Ezren's campaign could become far more complicated.

"We need to move faster," Ezren said.

Blood on the Road

By mid-afternoon, the scouts returned—but only five remained. Their armor was drenched in blood, their faces pale with exhaustion.

Ezren dismounted, stepping forward. "Report."

The lead scout barely caught his breath before speaking. "We were ambushed, my lord. Black-cloaked riders struck from the woods. They knew the terrain. They cut us down before we even saw them coming."

Ezren frowned. "How many?"

"At least fifty. Maybe more."

Sylara exhaled sharply. "The Obsidian Order. They've been tracking us."

Lily clenched her fists. "We should have expected this."

Ezren remained calm. "And yet, we still stand. Which means they didn't attack in full force. They were probing us."

Darius stepped forward. "If they're here, then they know about Stormfang Keep. They might warn Valhorn before we even arrive."

Ezren turned toward the army. "Then we strike tonight."

Lily's eyes widened. "Tonight? But our men—"

"Are warriors," Ezren interrupted. "And warriors fight when the moment is right, not when it's convenient."

Darius grinned. "I like this plan."

Sylara sighed, sheathing her dagger. "Reckless. But that's why you're interesting."

Ezren turned to his officers. "Prepare the men. We move as soon as the sun sets."

Stormfang Keep in Sight

As night fell, Ezren's army reached the outskirts of Stormfang Keep. The fortress sat atop a rocky cliffside, its towers rising like jagged spears against the sky.

The torches along its walls burned bright, but no reinforcements were in sight.

Lily surveyed the area. "No sign of the Ashen Tribunal. We might still have the element of surprise."

Ezren nodded. "Then we won't waste it."

He turned to Sylara. "You said Valhorn relies on mercenaries. How loyal are they?"

Sylara smirked. "Not very. If we offer them gold—or a painless escape—they'll turn on him."

Ezren's eyes gleamed. "Then let's make them an offer they can't refuse."

Darius raised his sword. "Shall we begin?"

Ezren smirked. "We end this before dawn."

The battle for Stormfang Keep was about to begin.

End of Chapter 8.