Marcus exploded from the trees.
Dagon materialized mid-sprint, the blade appearing in his hand as he closed the distance to the lead guard in three strides. The soldier barely had time to register the threat before Marcus’s sword punched through the gap in his armor.
[VOID HARVEST ACTIVATED][+18 CURRENCY]
The second guard reacted faster, drawing his weapon and bringing it up in a defensive stance. Marcus didn’t slow down. He feinted left, watched the guard’s eyes track the movement, then struck right. Dagon opened the man’s throat.
[+18 CURRENCY]
On the opposite side of the road, Tobin charged from the undergrowth like a battering ram. His shield caught a guard square in the chest, the impact sending the man flying backward into the cart with a sickening crunch. The Warden’s follow-up strike with his mace ended it quickly.
Liz dropped from the trees directly onto the rear guard’s shoulders. The man crumpled under the sudden weight. Before he could recover, her blade found his heart.
The caravan descended into controlled chaos.
Vera and Mikael emerged from concealment, moving toward the drivers who were frantically trying to control the panicking horses. The cart lurched sideways as one driver attempted to flee.
"Secure them!" Marcus barked. "We need them alive!"
A guard near the cart’s rear wheeled around, spotting Nigard emerging from the forest. The Battle Mage’s runic tattoos flared bright blue. He thrust his hand forward, and a bolt of crackling energy shot across the distance.
The guard took the blast in the chest and went down hard.
Two guards remained. Both had fallen back to a defensive position near the cart, weapons drawn, looking for an escape route.
Marcus moved to flank them, Dagon ready. Tobin advanced from the front, shield raised. The guards were trapped between them with nowhere to run.
"Drop your weapons!" Tobin’s voice carried authority. "You die either way, but surrender makes it quick!"
The guards exchanged glances. One started to lower his sword—
The other bolted.
He broke from cover, sprinting toward the forest with desperate speed. If he made it to the trees, if he reached the fortress—
Nigard moved to intercept channeling magic while running, preparing a binding spell to stop the fleeing guard.
But something went wrong.
The spell misfired—a bright flash of light instead of the intended binding chains. The sudden illumination caught the fleeing guard’s attention. He changed direction, angling away from Nigard, gaining precious seconds.
"Damn it!" Nigard cursed, already preparing another spell.
Marcus was already moving. He materialized Dagon and sent it spinning through the air.
The blade took the guard in the back of the leg. He went down with a scream, tumbling across the dirt road. Before he could recover, Liz was there. Her blade ended it.
[+18 CURRENCY]
The last guard, seeing his companion fall, dropped his weapon and raised his hands in surrender.
Pleaseee!! "Spare me"
"Smart choice." Tobin kicked the dropped weapon away. "On your knees."
The guard complied, face pale with terror.
Marcus walked back to where Nigard stood, the Battle Mage looking frustrated with himself.
"That was sloppy." Marcus’s tone was flat, giving nothing away.
Nigard’s expression tightened. "My apologies. The spell matrix destabilized happens sometimes when channeling under stress. Won’t happen again."
Marcus studied him for a moment, then nodded curtly. "See that it doesn’t. We can’t afford mistakes at the fortress."
"Understood."
Marcus turned his attention to the surrendered guard. "You. Where were you taking this shipment?"
The guard’s eyes darted between the bodies of his companions and the blade in Marcus’s hand. "Supply depot. Western quarter. Weekly delivery."
"Credentials?"
"Commander’s seal. In the cart. Red leather pouch."
Mikael was already climbing into the cart, searching. He emerged moments later holding the pouch. "Got it. Authorization papers, delivery manifest, everything we need."
"Good." Marcus looked at Vera. "The drivers?"
"Secured." Vera had both drivers sitting against a tree, hands bound but unharmed. "They’re civilians. Contract workers, not soldiers."
Marcus approached the drivers. An older man and a younger woman, both terrified but trying to maintain composure.
"You know the fortress protocols?" Marcus asked.
The older man nodded quickly. "Yes. We’ve been making this run for three months."
"Gate procedures. Guards. Checkpoints. Tell me everything."
The man talked. Fast. Desperate to be useful enough to stay alive. The fortress had three main gates supply deliveries used the eastern gate.
Guards checked papers but rarely searched carts if the seals were intact. Shift changes happened at dawn and dusk. The supply depot was managed by a Tier 3 quartermaster named Vex.
Marcus absorbed it all, filing away details that might matter later.
"What about the uniforms?" Liz asked, gesturing to the dead guards.
"Strip them." Marcus made the decision quickly. "We need six sets. Leave the bodies in the cart we’ll dump them once we’re away from the road."
The group worked efficiently. Within minutes, they had six Ashfang uniforms stripped and bundled. The bodies were loaded into the cart and covered with the supply crates.
Marcus held up one of the uniforms, checking the fit. Close enough. The armor was standard issue dark leather with metal reinforcement at vital points. Each bore the Ashfang insignia, a stylized fang dripping with blood.
"Everyone change." Marcus started removing his Devil Loom Coat. "Keep your weapons hidden under the uniforms. If this goes wrong, we’ll need to fight our way out fast."
The group dispersed slightly for privacy, changing into the stolen uniforms. Marcus kept his coat in his inventory .
Liz emerged from behind the cart wearing guard armor that was slightly too large. She’d cinched it tighter with spare straps, making it work. Her blade was concealed along her back under the uniform’s cloak.
"How do I look?" she asked, striking a mock-serious pose.
"Like you’re about to infiltrate an enemy fortress." Marcus allowed himself a slight smile. "So, perfect."
"What about them?" Tobin gestured to the two drivers and the surrendered guard.
Marcus looked at the three prisoners. The drivers were civilians wrong place, wrong time. The guard had surrendered rather than fight.
"Tie them to trees away from the road." Marcus decided. "Gag them. Someone will find them eventually."
"You’re letting them live?" The guard sounded shocked.