Chapter 0005: The Hardest Choice
The war council sat in silence. The weight of the decision hung over them like a storm.
Malagar's forces were closing in. His soldiers burned villages, his war machine still intact. And now, the Shadowfang Mercenaries—the deadliest killers in the land—had joined his side.
Raiden exhaled, his knuckles tightening against the wooden table. They had two options.
Strike now. A surprise attack before Malagar could consolidate his forces. Risky—but bold.Play the long game. Find a way to turn the Shadowfangs against Malagar. Dangerous—but potentially game-changing.
Ser Edric leaned forward. "A direct strike could cripple Malagar before he gains full strength."
Elara shook her head. "And if it fails? We lose everything."
Torgar, the Ironwood chieftain, crossed his arms. "You cannot win a siege with a dagger. If we want to survive, we must outthink him."
Raiden's mind raced. Every choice carried a risk.
Then, slowly, he spoke. "We turn the Shadowfangs against him."
A Dangerous Gamble
Elara's eyes widened slightly. "And how do you suggest we do that?"
Raiden leaned forward. "The Shadowfangs are killers, not loyal soldiers. They fight for coin, not honor."
Ser Edric frowned. "Malagar's pockets run deep. How do you outbid a warlord?"
Raiden's lips curled into a smirk. "We don't. We show them Malagar is already losing."
Elara's gaze sharpened. "You want to make him look weak."
Raiden nodded. "If the Shadowfangs see Malagar as a sinking ship, they'll abandon him before he can drag them down with him."
Torgar grunted. "You're asking us to manipulate the most ruthless killers alive."
Raiden's smirk didn't fade. "Exactly."
The Infiltration Begins
To execute the plan, they needed information—and they needed it fast.
Elara and Raiden prepared to infiltrate Malagar's war camp disguised as traders. Their goal? Discover the terms of Malagar's deal with the Shadowfangs.
Ser Edric, meanwhile, would spread false rumors among the mercenary ranks, stirring doubts about Malagar's power.
If everything worked perfectly, the Shadowfangs would begin to question their loyalty.
If it failed… Raiden and Elara wouldn't be coming back.
A Deadly Meeting
Two days later, dressed as traveling merchants, Raiden and Elara approached Malagar's war camp.
The sight was terrifying.
Thousands of Malagar's soldiers patrolled the perimeter.War beasts—massive armored warhounds—snarled behind iron bars.The Shadowfangs—dressed in their signature black cloaks—watched from the shadows, silent as ghosts.
Elara kept her voice low. "This is suicide."
Raiden smiled. "Then let's make it worth it."
They passed through the gates, blending into the chaos of Malagar's war preparations. Their mission had begun.
But in the crowd, watching them from a distance…
Darius Nightbane smirked.
He knew.
Wolves Among Wolves
The war camp was a city of steel and fire.
Black banners flapped against the wind, carrying Malagar's sigil—a crimson serpent wrapped around a sword. Rows of soldiers trained in the open fields, their armor glinting in the torchlight. The scent of burning metal and sweat filled the air.
Raiden and Elara moved carefully, disguised as merchants, their carts filled with exotic goods. One mistake, one wrong word—and they would die before sunset.
But the real danger wasn't the army.
It was the Shadowfang Mercenaries.
Dressed in black and moving like phantoms, they were scattered across the camp—watching. Waiting. These weren't ordinary warriors. They were killers. Assassins. And they could sense prey.
Raiden kept his expression calm as he and Elara made their way toward the trade district of the camp. The first step of the plan was simple: Gather information.
And then—create doubt.
The Price of Loyalty
They set up their small stall near the main supply tents, blending in with the other merchants.
Elara leaned close to Raiden, whispering, "We need to find out how much Malagar paid them."
Raiden nodded. "If we can prove he can't afford them long-term, they'll leave before the war begins."
Their target was a Shadowfang officer, a man named Kael Ravenspire—one of the commanders handling Malagar's contract.
And luck was on their side.
Not long after setting up, Kael himself appeared, inspecting the merchants.
He was tall, lean, and deadly. His armor was blackened leather, his face sharp and unreadable. Two daggers rested on his belt—but Raiden knew he had more hidden.
Kael paused at their stall, eyes flicking over their goods. "Merchants from the west?"
Raiden smiled, playing the part. "The finest spices and silks, my lord. Fit for warlords and kings alike."
Kael smirked. "I serve neither."
Elara leaned in slightly. "Then who do you serve?"
Kael's eyes darkened. "Gold."
Raiden took the risk. "And what happens when the gold runs out?"
A slow smirk spread across Kael's face. "Then the contract ends."
Raiden exchanged a glance with Elara. That was all they needed to hear.
The First Strike
That night, Ser Edric's part of the plan began.
Among the lower ranks of the Shadowfangs, rumors started spreading. Whispers that Malagar's treasury was draining. That his power was slipping.
That he was losing.
Kael himself overheard the talk. And when he questioned a few men about it—one of them slipped up.
Kael's eyes turned cold. "Who started this?"
The mercenary stammered. "I-I don't know! People have been talking—something about Malagar's gold not lasting the full campaign—"
Kael's face darkened. "Find out where this filth is coming from."
Darius Moves First
But Kael wasn't the only one who noticed.
From the shadows of the war camp, Darius Nightbane watched everything unfold.
He smirked.
"Oh, Prince. You really don't know when to stop."
He turned away, vanishing into the darkness. He had seen enough.
It was time to end the game.
A Trap Set in Stone
The next evening, as Raiden and Elara prepared to leave, a low voice froze them in place.
"Leaving so soon?"
Raiden turned, hand instinctively going for his hidden dagger.
Darius stood behind them. Smirking.
Elara stiffened. "We were just finishing our business."
Darius chuckled. "Oh, I know. I've been watching. You've been busy… spreading such interesting ideas."
Raiden's heartbeat slowed. This was bad.
Darius knew.
And that meant one thing.
They were not leaving this camp alive.
A Dance with Shadows
The air between them was thick with tension.
Darius stood before Raiden and Elara, his signature smirk in place, but his eyes were sharp—watching, calculating. He knew everything.
Elara subtly shifted her weight, her hand moving toward the hidden blade in her sleeve. Raiden didn't need to look to know she was ready to strike.
But Darius… Darius wasn't worried.
Instead, he sighed dramatically. "You really don't know when to quit, do you, Raiden?"
Raiden kept his face neutral. "Just making an honest living as a merchant."
Darius chuckled. "Oh, of course. Selling silks and spices while whispering poison into mercenary ears. Clever. But tell me, Prince—" He leaned in slightly. "Did you really think I wouldn't notice?"
Elara's grip on her blade tightened. "If you knew, why wait? Why not kill us already?"
Darius tilted his head. "And waste a perfectly good opportunity?"
Raiden narrowed his eyes. "What do you want?"
Darius grinned. "Oh, it's not what I want. It's what Kael wants."
Raiden and Elara exchanged a quick glance. Kael Ravenspire. The Shadow fang commander.
So, Kael knew about them, too.
Darius gestured toward the deeper part of the camp. "He wants to meet you. Alone."
Elara immediately shook her head. "Not happening."
Darius gave her an amused look. "You're welcome to refuse, of course. But then again, my men are already surrounding this little market. If you try to run, they'll cut you down before you reach the gates."
Raiden already knew it was true.
Darius always had a trap.
With a deep breath, he exhaled. "Fine. Take me to him."
Elara tensed. "Raiden—"
He shot her a look. "Stay here. If I don't come back, you know what to do."
Darius chuckled. "Oh, don't be so dramatic. If Kael wanted you dead, you'd be dead already."
Raiden wasn't sure if that was reassuring.
The Shadowfang Commander
Darius led Raiden through the darkened corridors of the war camp, past the towering command tents and into the heavily guarded Shadow fang sector.
Inside the largest tent, Kael Ravenspire sat at a lavish table, sipping dark wine.
The man was composed, elegant even. Unlike most mercenaries, he wasn't just a brute. He was a tactician.
Kael gestured to the seat across from him. "Sit, Prince Raiden."
Raiden sat. "You know who I am."
Kael smiled. "Of course. A prince in exile, raising an army, playing at war. You're making quite a mess."
Raiden kept his voice calm. "I assume you didn't summon me just to talk about my reputation."
Kael swirled his wine. "No. I summoned you because I find myself… intrigued."
Raiden raised an eyebrow. "Intrigued?"
Kael leaned forward, his sharp eyes locking onto Raiden's. "You're trying to turn my own men against my employer. That takes a certain kind of boldness. I respect that."
Raiden remained silent. This was a test.
Kael set his goblet down. "Tell me, Prince. Why should I abandon Malagar?"
Raiden met his gaze, his mind racing. This was it. His one chance to turn the tide.
The Offer
Raiden took a slow breath. "Because Malagar will lose."
Kael chuckled. "You sound very sure of that."
Raiden leaned in. "Malagar fights like a warlord. He crushes, he conquers—but he doesn't plan for the long war. His treasury is already draining. His forces are stretched thin. And the moment he starts losing battles, the nobles funding him will pull back their support."
Kael listened, expression unreadable.
Raiden continued. "But me? I'm not fighting for conquest. I'm fighting for survival. And that makes me far more dangerous."
Kael tapped a finger against the table. "And what exactly are you offering?"
Raiden exhaled. "A better future."
Kael raised an eyebrow.
Raiden smirked. "You and your men are killers, but you're not loyal to Malagar. When this war is over, he'll dispose of you the moment you're no longer useful. But if you side with me, I won't just pay you—I'll make sure you have power when the dust settles."
Kael studied him for a long moment. Then he smiled.
"Interesting."
Darius, who had been silent until now, finally spoke. "So, what's it going to be, Kael? Kill him, or hear him out?"
Kael chuckled. "Oh, I think I'll hear him out."
Raiden hid his relief. The first step was done.
But Kael's next words sent a chill down his spine.
"Of course, Prince, if I'm going to consider this offer seriously… I need proof that Malagar is already weak."**
His smirk widened. "I need you to kill one of his generals. Publicly."
Raiden's jaw tightened. The real test had just begun.
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(To be Continue...)