Chapter 0007: Blood and Mercy
The sun rose over the captured outpost, painting the battlefield in shades of crimson and gold. The scent of blood lingered in the air, mixing with the acrid stench of burning wood.
Raiden stood before the prisoners, his expression unreadable. Dozens of Malagar's surviving soldiers knelt before him, bound and stripped of their weapons. Some stared in defiance, others in fear.
The Shadowfang warriors stood behind him, watching silently. They had seen plenty of warlords before—but now, they were waiting to see what kind of ruler Raiden would be.
Kael leaned on his sword, smirking. "Well, Prince? Will you be a merciful king? Or a ruthless one?"
Elara crossed her arms. "They surrendered. Killing them now would be nothing but slaughter."
Darius scoffed. "And letting them go means they'll just return to Malagar's army."
A choice.
One that would shape his rule.
Raiden looked at the prisoners. Some were seasoned warriors. Others… just young men forced into battle.
Then he spoke. "I am not Malagar. I will not kill for the sake of fear."
A murmur rippled through the Shadowfangs. Some approved. Others looked disappointed.
Raiden turned to the prisoners. "Swear your loyalty to me, and you will live. Defy me, and you will be exiled. You may choose."
The men looked at each other. Then, one by one, they swore fealty.
Kael raised an eyebrow. "Risky. You're trusting former enemies to stand at your side?"
Raiden's gaze was steady. "I'm giving them a reason to fight for something greater than fear."
Kael chuckled. "Let's hope they don't betray you, then."
Elara smiled faintly. "You made the right choice."
Darius muttered under his breath, "We'll see about that."
Malagar's Wrath
A day later, a messenger arrived.
A lone rider, carrying a black flag—Malagar's symbol of vengeance.
The man was bloodied, barely alive. He fell off his horse, gasping. "A message… from Malagar."
Raiden knelt beside him. "Speak."
The soldier gritted his teeth. "Malagar knows of your victory. He sends a warning."
Raiden's jaw clenched. "What warning?"
The soldier looked up, his voice weak. "He burned a village… as payment for your mercy."
Silence.
Elara stiffened, her face pale. "He slaughtered innocents?"
The messenger nodded weakly. "He says… he will do it again. Every time you take his lands, he will burn your people."
Raiden felt something dark settle in his chest.
Kael exhaled, shaking his head. "Well. That answers that. You try to play noble, and Malagar plays ruthless."
Darius scowled. "We should have killed those prisoners."
Elara's voice was sharp. "Murdering prisoners wouldn't have stopped this."
Raiden clenched his fists. He had thought sparing his enemies would show strength. Instead, Malagar had used it against him.
Kael studied him. "So, Prince. What's your next move?"
Raiden stood, his expression cold.
"We end this. I'll make Malagar regret ever thinking he could break me."
A Tyrant's Gambit
The war council was silent.
Raiden stood at the head of the table, his hands pressing against the worn wood. The map before him showed Malagar's territories—fortified cities, hidden supply routes, and now, the smoldering ruins of a village he had destroyed in retaliation.
Kael flicked a dagger between his fingers. "So, Prince, how do you plan to make Malagar 'regret' his little stunt?"
Darius crossed his arms. "We need to hit back—hard. Attack his cities, burn his lands. Make him pay in blood."
Elara shook her head. "That's exactly what he wants. He's trying to make us reckless, to turn this into a war of destruction."
Raiden clenched his jaw. "We need to break him. Not just his army, but his power—his control over his people. If we can make them turn against him, we win this war without burning everything to the ground."
Kael smirked. "So, you're thinking strategy over slaughter? Interesting. And how do you plan to make Malagar's own people betray him?"
Raiden's gaze darkened. "We take his greatest weapon… and turn it against him."
The Plan: Turning Fear into Rebellion
Malagar ruled through terror. His soldiers were loyal because they feared him. His people obeyed because they had no choice.
Raiden intended to change that.
Step 1: Spread the truth—Malagar wasn't invincible. The Shadowfangs had already defeated his forces. His men had surrendered to Raiden. His strongholds could fall.
Step 2: Free the people—Start by targeting Malagar's slave camps and prison holds. If they liberated his captives, they would create an army out of his victims.
Step 3: Humiliate him—Destroy his symbols of power, make his failures public, and show his people that his grip was weakening.
Kael chuckled. "You really do think like a ruler, don't you?"
Raiden's eyes were cold. "Malagar built his kingdom on fear. I'm going to take that fear away from him."
Elara nodded. "Then we need to move fast. If Malagar realizes what we're doing, he'll strike back before we have a chance."
Raiden looked at Kael. "Can the Shadowfangs get inside Malagar's territories unnoticed?"
Kael smirked. "Of course. But if we do this, there's no turning back. This isn't just war anymore—it's rebellion."
Raiden's voice was steady. "Then let's start a revolution."
The First Strike: The Night Raid
Their first target was the prison camp at Black Hollow—a grim fortress where Malagar kept political prisoners, captured rebels, and dissidents who had dared to speak against him.
At midnight, Raiden and his forces struck.
Silent shadows moved through the camp.
Guards fell without a sound as Shadowfang assassins cut them down.
Raiden himself broke open the iron cells, his sword flashing in the moonlight. Terrified prisoners looked up at him, hesitant, unbelieving.
"You're free," Raiden said. "If you want revenge—if you want to fight for something greater—stand with me."
Some fell to their knees, weeping. Others, rage in their eyes, took up the weapons of fallen guards.
By dawn, Black Hollow belonged to Raiden.
Hundreds of former prisoners now carried his banner.
And deep in his war room, Malagar received the news—his face dark with fury.
Raiden had struck the first blow in a war not just for land, but for the very soul of the kingdom.
And Malagar was about to strike back.
Malagar's Vengeance
The sky burned red at dawn.
Raiden stood on a ridge, overlooking Black Hollow, the prison camp they had liberated just a day ago. What had once been a place of despair now stood as a symbol of rebellion.
But symbols alone wouldn't win wars.
Kael approached, his expression grim. "We have a problem."
Raiden turned. "What is it?"
Kael tossed him a bloodstained scroll—sealed with Malagar's insignia.
Raiden unrolled it, reading the short but chilling message:
"For every prison you take, I will burn a city. For every slave you free, I will execute a hundred more. Turn back, or you will rule over ashes."
Raiden's grip on the parchment tightened. "Where?"
Kael's voice was low. "He's already started. Three villages in the east—gone. No survivors."
The room fell into silence.
Darius swore under his breath. "He's calling your bluff, Raiden. He knows you want to play the noble ruler. But now he's making it clear—this is war. No mercy."
Elara's voice was tight. "He's killing innocents. We can't let this continue."
Raiden exhaled slowly. Malagar was forcing him into a corner. If he kept freeing prisoners and gathering forces, Malagar would continue his reign of terror, slaughtering innocents just to prove a point.
But if Raiden stopped now, his rebellion would die before it had truly begun.
A choice.
The Hardest Decision
Raiden turned back to the war map. His forces were growing stronger, but they weren't ready for a direct assault on Malagar's capital. He needed time.
But time was the one thing Malagar wouldn't give him.
Elara stepped forward. "Raiden, if we do nothing, more will die. We have to act now."
Kael crossed his arms. "Then we need to change the game. Stop reacting to Malagar and start making him react to us."
Raiden looked up. "What are you suggesting?"
Kael smirked. "Simple. We stop playing defense. We don't just fight his army—we dismantle his rule, piece by piece. We turn his allies against him, sabotage his supply lines, and make his own people see him as the monster he is."
Raiden considered it. A war of shadows. A war that would force Malagar into desperate moves… and desperate men made mistakes.
Darius cracked his knuckles. "And what if we just put a blade through his throat?"
Elara shook her head. "It won't be that easy. Malagar isn't just one man—he's a system. Kill him, and another warlord will rise in his place. We have to destroy his entire foundation."
Raiden finally spoke. "Then that's what we'll do."
Striking Back
Their next targets were Malagar's supply depots. His armies were only as strong as the food and weapons that kept them moving.
Over the next two weeks, Raiden and the Shadowfangs launched a series of brutal raids.
🔥 Caravans were ambushed in the dead of night.
🔥 Granaries were set ablaze, their stores of food turned to ash.
🔥 Bridges and roads were destroyed, cutting off supply routes.
🔥 Malagar's generals were assassinated before they could even leave their tents.
Every strike weakened Malagar's grasp on the kingdom.
And for the first time, his people began to fear Raiden more than they feared their tyrant king.
Malagar's Next Move
But Malagar was not a man who accepted defeat.
On the night of the second week, as Raiden and his forces celebrated another successful raid, a lone rider approached their camp.
He was barely alive—his armor scorched, his body torn by arrows.
Raiden caught him before he collapsed. "What happened?"
The soldier gasped. "Malagar… he knew. He knew you'd come for his supply lines. So he set a trap."
Raiden's blood ran cold. "Where?"
The man looked up, pain in his eyes. "The eastern stronghold. He let your forces in… then sealed the gates and set the whole city on fire."
Raiden's hands clenched into fists.
Kael swore. "That bastard."
Elara's face was pale. "How many…?"
The soldier coughed, blood staining his lips. "Three thousand… burned alive."
Silence.
Raiden felt something break inside him.
Malagar wasn't just playing a game. He was sending a message.
And the message was clear: "You cannot win this war without becoming a monster yourself."
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(To be Continue...)