-Fortress of Ossa, 12PM-
The midday sun blazed overhead as the Alizah forces launched their assault on the Fortress of Ossa.
"For the glory of Alizah!" roared the Alizah Commander, his voice carrying over the din. "Break their walls and crush their spirit!"
Thousands of Alizah soldiers surged forward, their battle cries drowning out the panicked shouts from the fortress walls.
Inside the fortress, the Azone Captain barked orders to her troops. "Archers, ready! Aim for their siege engines!"
Catapults on nearby hills unleashed a barrage of stone projectiles. The massive rocks whistled through the air before smashing against the fortress walls.
"They're breaching the eastern wall!" an Azone soldier cried out in alarm.
"Redirect the ballistae!" the Azone Captain commanded. "We can't let them gain a foothold!"
Alizah archers formed lines, loosing volley after volley of arrows that arced high over the walls.
"Shield wall!" came the cry from the Azone defenders. "Don't let a single shaft through!"
At the main gate, a massive battering ram swung forward.
"Put your backs into it, lads!" shouted an Alizah Sergeant. "That gate's coming down today or we'll die trying!"
Defenders atop the walls poured boiling oil and loose stones down on the attackers.
"Burn, you bastards!" yelled an Azone soldier, tipping a cauldron of oil.
"Ladders up!" came the call from below. "Scale those walls and show these Azone dogs what real warriors look like!"
As Alizah troops began to ascend, the Azone Captain rallied her forces. "For Azone and for freedom! Push them back into the dirt where they belong!"
The clash of steel mingled with screams and battle cries as the two forces met in vicious combat along the walls.
"We've breached the gate!" came an exultant cry from the Alizah ranks.
Inside the fortress, the Azone Captain's face set in grim determination. "Fall back to the inner keep! We'll make them pay for every inch with blood!"
The siege of the Fortress of Ossa raged on under the merciless sun, each side determined to emerge victorious no matter the cost.
The Alizah horde poured through the shattered gate, their eyes wild with bloodlust. The courtyard echoed with the screams of the dying and the wet squelch of boots treading on eviscerated bodies.
"Forward! Crush the rats in their nest!" bellowed an Alizah lieutenant, his face splattered with gore. "Gut these Azone pigs!"
Panic gripped the Azone defenders as they retreated. Men slipped in pools of their comrades' blood, only to be hacked down by gleeful Alizah blades. The air grew thick with the copper stench of death and the acrid smell of voided bowels.
"Fall back! To the inner sanctum—now!" the Azone captain's voice cracked with desperation. Her soldiers scrambled behind a lone figure—a young woman standing defiantly at the center of the courtyard. Her hands trembled, but her eyes burned with an otherworldly resolve.
The girl raised her arm. The very air seemed to recoil from her touch.
"What's that witch doing?!" an Alizah soldier snarled, halting mid-stride.
The ground beneath the invaders' feet began to glow—cracks spiderwebbing across the courtyard like veins of molten iron. A low, hellish rumble shook the fortress.
"Burn."
The earth split open with a sickening crack. From the fissures erupted not mere fire, but liquid agony. Flames of impossible colors—sickly greens and putrid purples—engulfed the invaders.
Men howled as their flesh bubbled and sloughed off in sheets. Eyeballs burst in their sockets, boiling vitreous humor running down charred cheeks. The lucky ones died quickly. Others writhed in the inferno, their screams gurgling as their lungs literally cooked inside them.
"Fall back! FALL BACK!" howled an Alizah commander, his own armor fusing to his skin.
Those who escaped the hellfire trampled their burning comrades in blind panic. Boots crushed skulls and ribcages, adding to the symphony of snapping bones and tearing flesh.
The girl staggered, her arm still raised. Blood trickled from her eyes and nose as her magic carved a wall of flame between the Azones and their enemies.
"Now!" the Azone captain shouted.
From the battlements above, Azone archers loosed flaming arrows into the fleeing Alizah ranks. Cauldrons of boiling pitch tipped over the walls, drenching those who'd escaped the fire. It clung to hair and skin like napalm, melting faces into grotesque, waxy masks of agony. Men clawed at their own dissolving features, tearing strips of liquefied flesh from their skulls.
"Regroup! REGROUP, YOU COWARDS!" roared an Alizah general outside the gates, his voice raw with fury. But panic had taken root. Soldiers tripped over each other, abandoning siege engines as they fled the killing zone.
The girl collapsed to her knees, her magic spent. The fires dimmed, leaving the courtyard a smoldering graveyard of blackened corpses and twisted metal. The stench of cooked human meat hung heavy in the air, so thick it was almost visible.
"Seal the gate!" the Azone captain ordered, her face ashen. Soldiers moved numbly, piling still-twitching body parts into the breach.
Beyond the walls, the Alizah commanders screamed orders. "Bring the mages! Archers—target that witch! She dies now!"
But the Azones had already dragged the girl to safety. Above, the fortress towers hummed to life—ancient runes carved into the stone flaring blue as defensive wards activated. The air crackled with energy, and a translucent barrier shimmered into existence over the battlements.
The Alizah general spat into the dirt. "This isn't over. When night falls, we'll peel their walls apart stone by stone."
Inside, the Azone captain gripped the girl's shoulders. "Rest. You've bought us time." Her voice softened. "But they'll come harder next."
The girl stared at her singed palms, her breath ragged.
Suddenly, the door burst open. Roxana strode in, Richard close behind her.
"Rest? Nonsense," Roxana scoffed, her eyes blazing. "She'll fight. We need every advantage we can get."
Richard's lips curled into a smirk. "Indeed. The girl's power is too valuable to waste." He stepped forward, effortlessly lifting the exhausted girl into his arms. "Come. We have work to do."
Without another word, Richard left the room, carrying the girl. They traversed dimly lit corridors until reaching a secluded chamber deep within the fortress. He gently laid her on a bed as mages filed in, carrying syringes and vials of strange liquids.
The mages set to work, injecting the girl with mysterious concoctions and forcing bitter draughts down her throat. The girl's eyes fluttered, her body twitching as the potions took effect.
From the shadows, a figure emerged - Roxana's aunt. Her voice was a mix of admiration and steel. "My, my. I didn't expect this from you, Richard. Our victory seems all but assured now."
Richard's face remained impassive. "Of course. We cannot afford to lose this battle."
The aunt nodded, her gaze fixed on the girl. "Indeed. The real war has only just begun."
-After the attack, Sun Palace; Elmir-
In the grand Throne Room of the Imperial Sun Palace in the Empire of Elmir, Cillian and Kryll sat silently at a long table surrounded by delegates from both Romania and Elmir. The air was thick with tension as heated discussions about their next moves in the ongoing conflict filled the room.
An Elmir general, his face flushed with frustration, stood up abruptly. "We must strike now! The Azones are weakened from our initial assault. Every moment we delay gives them time to regroup and strengthen their defenses."
"Patience, General," a Romanian diplomat countered, his voice calm but firm. "Our intelligence suggests they have powerful magical defenses in place. A hasty attack could lead to catastrophic losses."
"And what would you suggest?" sneered an Elmir noble. "That we sit idly by while they gather their strength?"
A Romanian military advisor leaned forward, his eyes narrowed. "Not idle, no. But strategic. We need to focus on disrupting their supply lines, cutting off reinforcements."
"Bah!" spat another Elmir official. "Such timid tactics! We should be unleashing our full might upon them, crushing them beneath our heel!"
An older Romanian statesman raised his hand for silence. "We must not underestimate the Azones. Remember, they have powerful allies. If we move too aggressively, we risk drawing others into this conflict."
"Perhaps," mused an Elmir mage, stroking his beard thoughtfully, "we should consider magical means of infiltration. Bypass their defenses entirely."
The room erupted into a cacophony of arguments and counter-arguments, strategies proposed and dismissed. Through it all, Cillian and Kryll remained silent, watching and listening as the fate of nations was debated around them.
-10:00 PM, Azone Outpost; Silver Veil-
The full moon hung low over the dense forest surrounding the Azone outpost known as Silver Veil. A gentle breeze rustled through the leaves, masking the near-silent movements of the Alizah mages as they crept through the underbrush. Their leader, a gaunt man with ash-streaked face and hollow eyes, raised a hand for his companions to halt.
"We're at the edge of their wards," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Remember your training. Let the shadows become your flesh, your very essence. The old magics will carry us through."
The group of twelve mages formed a circle, pressing their palms to the cool earth. As one, they began to chant in an ancient tongue, words that seemed to slither and writhe in the air. The very ground beneath them began to ripple and undulate, as if suddenly liquid.
Slowly, terrifyingly, their bodies began to dissolve. Flesh turned to smoke, bones to mist, until nothing remained but twelve pools of inky darkness that seeped into the earth like spilled oil.
Inside the Silver Veil outpost, two Azone sentries patrolled the upper walkway of the main granary tower. The taller of the two, a veteran named Dorn, leaned on his spear and sighed.
"Quiet night," he muttered, gazing out at the moonlit forest.
His companion, a younger guard named Elia, frowned. She ran her fingers along the smooth stone of the parapet, a look of unease crossing her face. "Too quiet. The wards feel... thin. Like a sheet of ice about to crack."
Dorn opened his mouth to reply, but his words never came. A pool of absolute darkness formed at their feet, defying the moonlight. Before either could react, inky tendrils erupted from the shadow, wrapping around their throats and faces with terrifying speed. There was a sickening crack as their necks snapped, and both bodies crumpled to the ground.
From the pool of darkness rose an Alizah assassin, his form solidifying from the shadows themselves. He glanced at the fallen guards, then raised a hand to his ear, activating a communication charm.
"Perimeter sentries neutralized," he whispered. "Proceed with the next phase. Remember – kill the mages first. Without them, their defenses crumble."
All across the Silver Veil outpost, similar scenes played out. Alizah forces materialized from shadows, slipping through walls and wards as if they were no more substantial than mist. Their blades, coated with a venom that paralyzed their victims, found throats and hearts with deadly precision.
In the central courtyard, a young Azone mage named Lira sensed the wrongness in the air. She began to weave a detection spell, her fingers tracing glowing sigils. An Alizah assassin lunged from the darkness behind her, but Lira spun at the last second. Her half-formed spell exploded outwards in a screaming arc of red light – a distress flare that lit up the night sky.
The assassin's shadowy claw tore through Lira's chest, ripping out her still-beating heart. As she collapsed, her last breath carried a whisper of triumph. The alarm had been raised.
Chaos erupted throughout Silver Veil. Azone soldiers stumbled from their barracks, still half-asleep and confused. Many fell before they could even raise their weapons, throats slit by enemies they couldn't see. Those who managed to form defensive lines found their blades passing harmlessly through shadow-forms that reformed and struck with lethal precision.
In the command tower, the Azone captain, a grizzled veteran named Thorne, barked orders as he tried to rally his forces. An Alizah blade found his back, and he stumbled, coughing blood. With his last strength, he grabbed a young messenger.
"Report to Ossa!" he gasped, shoving a bloodstained seal into the boy's hands. "They're using... forbidden magic. Shadow Weavers. Go! Warn them!"
The messenger boy nodded, tears streaming down his face as he turned and ran. Behind him, Captain Thorne used his last breath to trigger a series of explosive runes, collapsing part of the tower to cover the boy's escape.
As dawn broke, Silver Veil lay silent. Fifty Azone defenders lay dead, their blood soaking into the earth. The Alizah forces regrouped, their mages exhausted but triumphant. They had pierced the supposedly impenetrable defenses of the Azones, and opened a path to the heart of their territory.
-After the attack, Fortress of Ossa; War Room-
The war room of Ossa was a hive of frantic activity when the messenger from Silver Veil burst in. The boy, no more than fourteen, was covered in dirt and blood, his eyes wild with fear and exhaustion.
"Silver Veil has fallen!" he cried, his voice cracking. "Fifty dead – maybe more. They... they bypassed every ward, every defense. It was like fighting shadows given flesh!"
Medea, Roxana's aunt and one of the senior military commanders, slammed her fist on the great map table with such force that several markers toppled. Her face was a mask of fury and disbelief.
"Bullshit!" she roared, causing several advisors to flinch back. "Silver Veil had six – six – layers of our strongest enchantments! How in the nine hells did they breach them all?!"
Roxana stepped forward, her expression a study in icy calm that contrasted sharply with her aunt's rage. "They're using Shadow Weavers," she said, her voice low but carrying clearly through the room. "Old Elmir blood magic. Forbidden arts we thought lost centuries ago."
From his position leaning against the wall, Richard spoke up. His arms were crossed, his face unreadable. "The girl's fire won't save us this time," he said matter-of-factly. "If they can phase through solid stone, they'll hit Ossa next. We need a new strategy."
"Then we retaliate NOW—" Medea began, but Roxana cut her off with a sharp gesture.
To be Continued...