"Don’t make me regret it." Marcus’s tone left no room for argument. "At least I’m not that heartless to kill harmless civilians."
The guard nodded frantically. "I won’t say anything. I swear."
Vera and Mikael secured the three prisoners far enough from the road that they wouldn’t be easily spotted. By the time they returned, the group was assembled and ready.
Six people in Ashfang uniforms standing around a supply cart. To any observer, they’d look like a legitimate patrol escort.
Marcus climbed into the driver’s seat, taking the reins. He’d driven carts before in his previous life. The horses recognized the familiar weight and settled.
"Everyone ready?" He looked back at the group.
Nods all around. Liz sat beside him on the driver’s bench. The others positioned themselves around the cart as guards would two flanking, two bringing up the rear.
"Papers ready." Mikael patted the red leather pouch containing their forged credentials. "Authorization seal intact."
"Remember the cover story." Marcus flicked the reins, starting the cart moving. "We’re the regular delivery crew. Act natural. Don’t volunteer information. Let me do the talking at the gate."
The cart rolled forward, leaving the ambush site behind. The bodies hidden under supply crates. The prisoners bound and gagged in the forest. No evidence except the scent of blood which they’d masked with dirt and leaves scattered over the stains.
They traveled in silence for the first mile. Then two. The fortress would be visible soon.
Marcus ran through the plan again mentally. Gate check. Drive to supply depot. Split up Team One to eastern wall, Team Two to the depot itself. Plant explosives. Fifteen minutes to extraction. Detonate. Escape in the chaos.
Simple and clean.
"There." Liz pointed ahead.
Through the trees, massive stone walls came into view. The Ashfang fortress. Larger than Marcus had imagined from Vera’s descriptions. Towers at each corner. Parapets lined with guards. The eastern gate stood open, traffic flowing in and out supply carts, patrol groups, a few civilians on official business.
Marcus guided their cart into the line approaching the gate. Three carts ahead of them. Each stopping briefly for inspection before being waved through.
"Act natural." Marcus reminded the group. "We’ve done this dozens of times before. Just another boring delivery."
The cart ahead of them cleared inspection. They rolled forward.
Two guards stepped out from the gatehouse. One older, scarred, clearly a veteran. The other younger, probably new.
The veteran approached the driver’s side.
"Papers."
Marcus handed over the red leather pouch without hesitation. "Weekly supply run. Same as always."
The guard opened the pouch, scanning the authorization seal and manifest. His eyes flicked to Marcus, then to Liz, then to the guards positioned around the cart.
Marcus kept his expression bored. Just another routine delivery. Nothing interesting here.
The guard’s eyes lingered on Nigard for a moment. The Battle Mage stood at parade rest, playing his role perfectly.
"Cargo?" The guard asked.
"Standard supplies. Food, medical, alchemical compounds." Marcus recited what the driver had told him. "Manifest’s in the pouch."
The guard checked the manifest against the visible cargo. Didn’t bother looking under the crates where six dead bodies were hidden.
After what felt like an eternity but was probably thirty seconds, the guard handed the pouch back.
"Proceed to supply depot. Western quarter. Quartermaster Vex will check you in."
"Understood." Marcus took the pouch, maintaining his bored expression.
The guard started to wave them through—
"WAIT!!!!"
Nigard’s voice cut through the moment like a blade.
Every head turned. The Battle Mage stepped forward from his position at the rear of the cart, his expression twisted with something between fear and triumph.
"INTRUDERS!" Nigard shouted, pointing directly at Marcus. "THE CART IS COMPROMISED! THESE AREN’T REAL GUARDS!"
Time seemed to slow.
The veteran gate guard’s hand moved toward his weapon. The younger guard’s eyes went wide with shock. On the parapets above, soldiers turned to look down at the commotion.
Marcus didn’t hesitate.
In one fluid motion, he materialized Dagon and launched himself from the driver’s seat. The blade appeared in his hand mid-leap, already cutting through the air in a perfect arc.
Nigard’s eyes widened as he realized his mistake standing too close, assuming Marcus would freeze, underestimating him completely.
Dagon’s edge met Nigard’s neck.
His head separated from his shoulders before he could finish drawing breath for another shout. The body stood for a moment before collapsing.
[VOID HARVEST ACTIVATED][+35 CURRENCY]
"Traitor." Marcus’s voice was ice-cold.
He kicked the headless corpse aside, Dagon already turning toward the gate guards who were still processing what they’d just witnessed.
The veteran recovered first. "ALARM! SOUND
THE—"
Liz’s blade took him through the throat before he could finish. The younger guard stumbled backward, fumbling for a horn hanging at his belt.
Tobin’s shield bash sent him flying into the gatehouse wall with a sickening crunch.
But it was too late.
On the parapets, a soldier had seen everything. A horn blast split the air long, piercing, unmistakable.
Alarm.
POOOMM!!
The fortress came alive.
Soldiers poured from barracks. Guards on the walls drew weapons. Archers appeared at the parapets, nocking arrows.
"PLAN’S BLOWN!" Marcus roared. "Always preferred it this way!"
Twenty soldiers converged on the gate from inside the fortress. Marcus’s Soul Reading tracked them all Tier 2 and 3, alert and armed, no longer confused by stolen uniforms.
"Box formation!" Tobin bellowed, his Warden training taking over. "Protect the cart! We need those explosives!"
The group reformed around the supply cart. Tobin at the front, shield raised. Dain scrambling onto the cart for elevated position. Vera already channeling ley line energy for emergency healing. Mikael behind her, chronicler abilities activating to buff the group.
Liz stood beside Marcus, her Bladecaster energy flaring to life around her blade.
""So much for sneaking in." She allowed herself a grim smile.
"Forget sneaking." Marcus’s eyes tracked the approaching soldiers. "We go loud."
The first wave hit them like a battering ram.
Five soldiers charged simultaneously, weapons raised, war cries echoing off stone walls. Tobin met them head-on, his shield absorbing three strikes at once. The Warden’s taunt ability flared a pulse of aggression magic that drew enemy focus like moths to flame.
Marcus engaged the flank. Dagon moved in practiced patterns, deflecting a sword strike, opening a gap in armor, finding flesh. The soldier went down.
[+18 CURRENCY]
Liz fought on his other side, her magical blade projections extending her reach. She cut through two soldiers in as many seconds, Purifying Edge making their corrupted armor worthless.
Dain’s arrows rained from above, each shot finding vital gaps in armor. Precision kills, one after another.
But more soldiers kept coming.
Ten became twenty. Twenty became thirty.
"We can’t hold this position!" Vera called out, her healing magic struggling to keep pace with incoming damage. "Too many!"
Marcus’s mind raced. The plan had been infiltration. Get inside quietly, plant explosives, escape. Now they were pinned at the gate with the entire fortress mobilizing against them.
They needed a new plan. Fast.
His eyes scanned the fortress interior through the chaos of combat. The supply depot west quarter, visible from here. The eastern wall their original target, too far now. And straight ahead, the main courtyard leading deeper into the fortress.
Where the research lab was.
Where the real targets were.
Marcus made a decision.
"FORGET THE PLAN!" He shouted over the din of battle. "WE PUSH THROUGH! STRAIGHT TO THE LAB!"
"Are you insane?!" Mikael’s voice cracked slightly.
"That’s suicide!"
"We don’t seem to have a choice!" Marcus cut down another soldier. "We’re already compromised! The only way out is through!"
Malachar!!