Chapter 0004: The Assassin's Trap
The celebration at Ironwood Stronghold was still in full swing when Elara pulled Raiden aside, her eyes sharp with urgency.
"We need to leave. Now."
Raiden frowned. "What's wrong?"
Elara scanned the shadows. "Darius was here. Watching."
Ser Edric cursed. "Damn it. If he was here, he wasn't just scouting—he was setting a trap."
Raiden's expression hardened. "Then we ride before it closes around us."
But they were already too late.
The Ambush
As Raiden's group left the stronghold and rode through the narrow Wraithwood Pass, the air grew eerily silent.
Then—arrows whistled through the darkness.
A horse screamed as one of the riders was struck, tumbling into the mud. Shadows moved in the trees—silent, deadly.
"AMBUSH!" Ser Edric roared, drawing his sword.
From the darkness, Darius Nightbane stepped forward, his crimson eyes glowing.
"Going somewhere, Prince?"
Raiden dismounted, sword drawn. "You should've stayed hidden, assassin."
Darius smirked. "And miss the chance to bury you here?"
He snapped his fingers—and a dozen cloaked assassins melted from the shadows, blades gleaming.
Raiden and his warriors were surrounded.
The Battle in Wraithwood
Steel clashed as chaos erupted in the forest.
Ser Edric led the charge, cutting down one assassin after another. Elara fought like a shadow, her daggers flashing through the darkness. Raiden met Darius head-on, their blades clashing in a flurry of sparks.
Darius was faster this time—deadlier. His curved blade slashed across Raiden's shoulder, drawing blood.
Raiden staggered back, gritting his teeth. "I'm not dying here."
Darius chuckled. "You don't have a choice."
But then—a war horn blew in the distance.
The Ironwood warriors had arrived.
Torgar's men stormed into the battlefield, axes cleaving through assassins.
Darius clicked his tongue in irritation. "Tch. Another time, Prince."
Then—he vanished.
The remaining assassins, seeing their leader gone, melted into the shadows and disappeared.
Silence fell over the battlefield.
Raiden stood, bleeding but victorious. For now.
A New Resolve
As they tended their wounds, Elara exhaled. "That was too close."
Ser Edric nodded. "Darius won't stop. Next time, he won't let you escape."
Raiden's hands clenched into fists. "Then we stop waiting for him to strike."
He turned toward the distant towers of Malagar's stronghold.
"It's time we take the war to him."
Into the Lion's Den
The embers of the battlefield still smoldered when Raiden made his decision.
"We're done waiting. We're taking the fight to Malagar."
Elara raised an eyebrow. "You're talking about attacking the most powerful warlord in the land."
Ser Edric folded his arms. "We don't have the numbers for an open war."
Raiden's eyes burned with determination. "Then we won't fight a war. We'll strike at his heart—his fortress."
Silence fell over the group. Infiltrating Malagar's stronghold was madness. But if they could pull it off…
Elara smirked. "I like it. What's the plan?"
Raiden laid out the map. "We slip past the outer defenses, sabotage his supply stores, and plant chaos inside his walls. If we succeed, his army will crumble before it even marches."
Torgar, the Ironwood chieftain, grinned. "A bold move, prince. But you'll need a way in."
Raiden nodded. "And I know exactly where to start."
The Disguised Entry
Four nights later, Raiden, Elara, and Ser Edric approached Malagar's fortress—disguised as mercenaries.
The Blackspire Fortress loomed before them, its towering walls laced with spikes, banners of Malagar's sigil flapping in the night wind.
The guards at the gate eyed them suspiciously. "Who are you?"
Raiden stepped forward, keeping his voice rough. "Blades for hire. We heard Malagar pays well for men who can kill."
The guard sneered. "You and a thousand others."
He motioned to a group of fighters gathering inside the gates—Malagar was hiring more men for his war.
The guard finally waved them through. "Welcome to hell."
They were inside.
Inside the Fortress
The fortress was a city of war.
Blacksmiths forged weapons day and night.Soldiers trained in bloodstained arenas. Malagar's banners draped over every tower.
Raiden's mind raced. If they could destroy Malagar's supply depots, his war machine would grind to a halt.
But first—they needed to find a way to escape once the sabotage was done.
Elara scanned the fortress. "There's a hidden aqueduct leading to the river. Could be our exit."
Ser Edric nodded. "Then let's move fast. We won't get a second chance."
An Unexpected Encounter
As they made their way deeper into the fortress, a familiar voice froze Raiden in place.
"You should've stayed dead, Prince."
Darius Nightbane.
He leaned against a stone pillar, arms crossed, a slow smirk on his lips. "Did you really think you could walk into Malagar's domain unnoticed?"
Raiden's heart pounded. It was a trap.
Before they could react, dozens of Malagar's elite guards surrounded them, weapons drawn.
Darius unsheathed his curved blade. "Your rebellion ends tonight."
The Deadliest Duel
The torches of Blackspire Fortress burned high as Raiden stood face to face with Darius Nightbane.
Surrounded. Trapped. Nowhere to run.
Elara's hand tightened around her dagger. Ser Edric's jaw clenched as he gripped his sword. The fortress guards watched like hungry wolves, waiting for the kill.
Darius stepped forward, his blade gleaming under the firelight. "I admire your boldness, Prince. Walking into the lion's den? A fine plan… if only I weren't here."
Raiden smirked despite the danger. "Always the dramatic one, Darius. You should've stayed in the shadows."
Darius chuckled. "And let you burn Malagar's fortress? No, no, that would be rude."
Then, without another word—he attacked.
Blades in the Dark
CLANG!
Their swords met in a blinding flash of steel.
Darius struck with blistering speed—his curved blade moving like a viper. Raiden barely blocked in time.
Elara moved to help—but an arrow whizzed past her head.
More Malagar guards charged in, cutting her and Edric off.
They were on their own.
Darius smirked, pressing forward. "No distractions this time, Prince. Just you and me."
Raiden gritted his teeth. "Fine by me."
A Fight of Skill and Will
Darius vanished into the shadows—only to reappear behind Raiden, his blade slicing toward his back.
Raiden dropped low, spinning as he blocked—just in time.
The assassin's precision was terrifying. Every move was calculated. Every strike had one purpose—Raiden's death.
But Raiden wasn't the same warrior he had been before.
He matched Darius's speed with raw power, forcing the assassin back.
For the first time, Darius looked surprised.
The Turning Point
Darius lunged, his blade aimed for Raiden's heart—
Raiden stepped into the attack.
Instead of dodging, he twisted, letting the blade barely graze his ribs.
In that split second—he trapped Darius's sword arm.
Then, with a ferocious elbow to the assassin's face, Raiden sent him staggering back.
Blood dripped from Darius's lip. He wiped it away with his thumb—and laughed.
"Not bad, Prince. Not bad at all."
But before the fight could continue—
BOOM!
An explosion rocked the fortress.
Elara's Gamble
While Raiden fought Darius, Elara and Edric had set fire to the supply depot.
Flames roared into the sky, spreading fast.
Panic erupted in the fortress. Guards ran in every direction. The enemy lines were in chaos.
Elara sprinted toward Raiden, daggers dripping with blood. "Move! We have to go—NOW!"
Raiden hesitated.
Darius wiped the blood from his chin, his eyes dark with amusement. "You win this round, Prince. But next time… I won't let you leave alive."
Raiden gave him a cold smile. "Looking forward to it."
Then, with the fortress crumbling into flames behind them, Raiden and his group vanished into the night.
A Pyrrhic Victory
Hours later, in the safety of the forest, Raiden exhaled.
They had crippled Malagar's war supply. The mission had been a success.
But something troubled him.
Darius had let him live. Again.
Ser Edric frowned. "He could've killed you."
Elara crossed her arms. "No. He wants something more."
Raiden stared at the distant burning fortress.
Whatever it was… he'd find out soon enough.
Malagar's Wrath
The Blackspire Fortress burned through the night. Flames licked the sky, casting an eerie glow over the battlefield. Raiden's strike had been a success—but now, there would be consequences.
Miles away, in the safety of the Ironwood forest, Raiden's group gathered around a dying fire. The tension was thick.
Ser Edric sat with his sword across his lap, sharpening the blade. "Malagar won't take this lightly. He'll strike back."
Elara nodded, tossing a dagger in the air. "Not just strike back—he'll burn everything in his path."
Raiden stared into the flames, deep in thought. He had weakened Malagar's war machine… but it wasn't enough.
Malagar was still coming. And now, he would be out for blood.
Malagar's Revenge
At sunrise, the first messengers arrived. Villages near the fortress had been razed. Survivors spoke of Malagar's forces sweeping through the land like a storm—executing those who dared defy him.
One man, barely alive, collapsed before Raiden. His clothes were torn, his face streaked with blood. "My lord… they are coming… for you."
Raiden's jaw tightened. He had expected retaliation—but not this fast.
Ser Edric cursed. "We can't fight them here. We don't have the numbers."
Elara's gaze was sharp. "Then we don't fight head-on. We make them bleed in the shadows."
A Dangerous Proposal
Raiden turned to Chief Torgar of the Ironwood Clan. "We need to prepare. If Malagar wants war, we'll give it to him—on our terms."
Torgar stroked his beard, considering. "A direct battle is suicide, Prince. But if we hit them where it hurts—if we cut off their supply lines, harass their forces, and lure them into the wilds—we might stand a chance."
Raiden nodded. "Guerrilla warfare."
Ser Edric grinned. "Now that's something I can work with."
But then—before they could move forward, a scout rushed into the camp, breathless.
"There's a problem."
The Betrayal
The scout's words froze them all.
"Malagar's forces aren't just attacking villages… they've found an ally."
Raiden's eyes narrowed. "Who?"
The scout hesitated. "The Shadowfang Mercenaries."
A silence heavier than steel settled over the camp. The Shadowfangs. Ruthless. Unstoppable. The best killers money could buy.
Elara exhaled slowly. "Malagar isn't just marching his army—he's bringing in assassins."
Ser Edric's expression darkened. "And they don't fight wars. They end them."
Raiden clenched his fists. He had planned for Malagar's army. But now, he was up against something far deadlier.
A warlord's fury—and an army of assassins.
The Choice Ahead
Raiden looked at his people, his warriors, his allies. They were strong—but were they ready for what was coming?
They had two options:
Strike first. Take the fight to Malagar before the Shadow fangs could arrive.Disrupt Malagar's alliances. Find a way to turn the Shadow fangs against him.
Raiden exhaled, feeling the weight of the decision.
One wrong move… and they would all be dead.
How did you like this chapter? Don't forget to share your thoughts! Your comments and reviews help me improve the story.
Did you enjoy this plot twist? Share your thoughts in the comments! Your feedback means a lot to me.
If you enjoyed this chapter, support me with a Power Stone!
If you're enjoying the story, add it to your library and don't forget to leave a review!
(To be Continue...)