Author's Preface
On top of the stone ramparts.
Zeek gave a formal salute. "All the war machines have been sabotaged from within, General Wulfric. The ballistas and trebuchets are completely useless."
General Wulfric's weathered hands gripped the stone battlement as he stared out at the massive Draemiran army stationed within eyesight. "As expected," Wulfric said. "Skida’s ambition is far greater than the previous barbaric attacks we've faced."
"Let me in! I have important information to report!" The Wanderer’s voice came up from the staircase leading to the top of the wall.
Zeek and Wulfric marched over to the guard post at the landing.
Zeek’s eyes widened. "How did you get here?"
The Wanderer rasped. "Skida’s elites... they infiltrated the dungeons. They killed Timothy and other nobles involved with the Owls. Not sure about the rest."
Wulfric glanced at Zeek. "Who is this man, Captain?"
Zeek hesitated, his gaze drifting over the Wanderer's mechanical arm before he spoke. "He is a Draemiran refugee. He worked directly under my command for the investigation. He's the one who pointed out the spy, and... he saved Serenya in the desert."
"Do you trust him?"
Zeek looked at the Wanderer. "I don't. But I am certain he doesn't wish for the demise of Valoria."
"That will have to be enough for now," Wulfric muttered, gesturing for the Wanderer to join them at the edge.
The Wanderer moved up to the battlement, but the moment his eyes swept across the valley below, he froze. The sheer scale of the Draemirans.
Thousands upon thousands fully armored soldiers, surpassing any invasion he witnessed.
Wulfric watched his reaction. "Did you serve in the Draemiran army?"
The Wanderer unable to look away. "Yes. Under General Skida."
Wulfric smirked. "A coincidence?"
"I don't know..." the Wanderer said reluctantly. "But I assure you, after what she did to me, my comrades, her enemies, and even her own allies... I won't be satisfied until I kill her with my own hands."
Wulfric turned back to the battlefield. "Your personal vengeance is not for us to decide right now. Tell me, do you know how they sent that massive blast earlier?"
The Wanderer replied, "The Owls helped them manufacture devices engineered to bypass the Nullstones. I have only seen small-scale applications, however. Wands, enchanted spears, personal focuses."
Wulfric pointed a finger toward the tree line behind the enemy lines. "The blast originated from there. We cannot see the source from this vantage point, but I am certain it is a siege weapon capable of bringing these very walls down."
The Wanderer squinted at the silent vanguard of the opposing force. "But what are they waiting for? Why haven't they advanced?"
"Probably a confirmation that our internal defenses have completely collapsed," Zeek replied.
"Which will be very soon, I assume," Wulfric added.
A figure atop a warbeast detached from the front lines, slowly approaching the towering walls.
It was Skida, marching forward entirely alone. She wore a suit of gleaming silver armor, her red hair floating behind her like a stream of flames.
"Citizens of Valoria! Refugees! And... mages of Valoria!" Skida’s voice echoed, amplified by a stone in her hand. Her horse stopped just outside the range of the wall's defenses.
"This is your only chance to revolt against centuries of injustice!" she continued. "Do you truly wish to live like caged dogs for the rest of your lives? To be denied your full potential just because your king is a sniveling coward?"
She raised her broadsword high into the air. "Whoever slays a Valorian soldier will be rewarded by my hand personally! Any hidden mage who aids our conquest today will be taken in and trained by me!"
Wulfric stepped onto the highest platform, shouting down in fury. "I have heard enough of your treasonous nonsense!" He snapped his head toward the archers stationed on a nearby guard tower. "Shoot her down!"
The soldiers drew their nullstone engraved bows till it glowed bright. They released a volley of the glowing arrows whistling through air.
The Wanderer only saw the shimmering traces of the Nullstone-enhanced arrows as they rained down upon Skida.
A massive cloud of dust exploded around Skida's position, obscuring her from view. But as the wind quickly cleared the grit away, it revealed Skida sitting calmly atop her uninjured hyena.
Her left hand was raised, a crimson barrier of mana hovering over her, the Valorian arrows shattered and smoking on the ground beneath her.
"Your pitiful stones will not save you this time," Skida said, her eyes flashing red.
She swung her sword forward, engulfing the blade in a raging torrent of magic. "For the Empire!"
Like a clap of thunder, the war drums behind her struck. Thousands of boots stamped the earth as the entire army began chanting in roar: "FOR THE EMPIRE! FOR THE EMPIRE!"
Skida turned her horse back toward the army. "You have exactly one hour to open the gates and surrender Valoria... or we will paint these walls red."
Wulfric gritted his teeth, watching Skida’s retreating silhouette. He turned to a technician standing beside him. "Prepare the Mortal Cannons."
Zeek jumped forward, his eyes wide. "General, those will deplete our Nullstones! If they fail, the city will be left entirely defenseless against magic!"
Wulfric grabbed Zeek’s collar and pulled the captain close. "We are defenseless, Captain." He let go of him."The Mortal Cannons will take long to charge. Buy me time. I don't trust Skida to keep her word for an hour."
Zeek looked past the valley toward the dark forest. "I can take a small squad. We can slip past the western flank and try to sabotage whatever siege weapon they're hiding back there."
"Let me join you," the Wanderer interrupted, stepping between them. "I know their squad movements and field tactics. Besides, if we get caught, I can distract Skida. We have... unresolved history."
Zeek looked at Wulfric. The General glanced between the two men, before nodding reluctantly. "Go."
As Zeek and the Wanderer turned to head down the stone steps, Wulfric called out. "Zeek!" The captain paused. "You might not return from this. If the men you choose want to stay within the walls... do not force them."
Zeek gave a formal salute. "I'll do it even if I'm the only one."
Wulfric returned the salute in silence.
As they moved down the staircase, Zeek spoke without looking back. "Don't stray away from me out there."
The Wanderer stopped on the steps, his brow furrowing. "What is it with all the doubts about me, Captain? I'm risking my neck here."
Zeek turned around. "Do you think I am stupid? The Mage Seeker might have been fooled by your mechanical arm, but I know what I saw. I know you are a mage."
The Wanderer stared at him, the words dying in his throat.
Zeek turned back around and continued descending. "I've begun to think... perhaps not all mages are evil. But that's a discussion for another time. Follow me."
Reaching the courtyard near the lower barracks, Zeek quickly gathered a handful of his most trusted soldiers. In hushed words, he explained the suicide mission as they checked their armor and weapons, moving stealthily toward the Western Gate.
"The main enemy forces are concentrated at the Northern Gates," Zeek said, pointing to a rough map etched into the dirt. "We will march under the shadow of the western hill, using the terrain to mask our approach until we hit their siege weapons hidden in the tree line."
He paused, taking a deep breath. He looked each of his men in the eyes.
"Before we take another step... if anyone wishes to stay behind and defend the walls from inside, I won't hold it against you. I know everyone here has family or loved ones. There is a very high chance we might never see them again."
The soldiers looked at each other, in silence. But no one broke formation.
Zeek nodded grimly, accepting their silent farewells, and turned to move alone.
"Hey, Captain," one of the soldiers laughed, tightening the straps on his gauntlet. "Did you really think we were going to let you have all the fun?"
Zeek turned back.
"Who else is going to make sure those loved ones actually stay safe?" another soldier chimed in, grinning through his anxiety.
A third soldier drew his blade, checking the edge before slotting it back into his scabbard. "As always, Captain. Failure isn't an option."
A quiet cheer rose from the small squad, their camaraderie cutting right through the dread of the invasion.
The Wanderer watched them, an old feeling of camaraderie drew a smile on his lips.
For a fleeting second, the burning sky of Valoria faded away. The sight of these men standing shoulder-to-shoulder in the face of certain death brought back a rush of tight-knit bonds forged in blood. Memories of Valak and the Hounds.
"Alright," Zeek said. "Move out. Quietly."
The squad moved like shadows behind the ridge of the hill, keeping low until they reached the edge of the forest.
Zeek held up a hand, crouching behind a thick root. "From now on, we communicate with hand signals only," he whispered, checking the sky. "We have less than thirty minutes left, assuming Skida actually keeps her word."
The men nodded. The Wanderer stepped forward, pointing deeper into a faint trail. He leaned in close to Zeek. "This perimeter is usually patrolled by Skida’s elites; they are lightly armored for quick engagements. If we time it right, we can slip right past their visions."
They crept into the brush, but they hadn't gone far before the sound of boots approached their position.
Zeek instantly signaled a halt. The squad melted into the undergrowth, weapons drawn and breaths held.
A hulking Draemiran elite strode right up to the tree Zeek was hiding behind. Muttering curses under his breath, the soldier unbuckled his belt in a haste and began peeing onto the bark.
One of the Valorian guards tried to shift his weight to get a cleaner angle for a silent takedown, but Zeek gestured for him to hold his ground. It was too late. The soldier's boot pressed down, and a dry branch snapped.
The Draemiran elite froze. He instantly drew his blade, his eyes narrowing as he carefully stepped toward the source of the noise.
"What the hell are you doing over there?" a rough voice shouted from further down the path.
The soldier paused, looking back over his shoulder. "Had to take a leak, man!"
"Put that damn thing back in your pants and get over here! We're marching!"
The elite grumbled, shearing his sword back into its loop. "Alright, alright, I'm coming." He turned and jogged back toward the main trail.
The squad converged on Zeek. "We're out of time," Zeek whispered. "We have to make a run for it."
Suddenly, the terrifying rhythm of the Draemiran war drums began to echo through the valley. The squad abandoned stealth, sprinting from trunk to trunk, pushing deeper into the forest toward the marked location.
They burst into a massive clearing where the ancient trees had been freshly chopped down. Sitting in the center of the clearing was a colossal catapult, its winch glowing with a magical core engulfed in Moon Dew.
The Wanderer stopped, his eyes darting across the empty clearing. "Where is everyone? There's no vanguard guarding it..."
Zeek’s eyes widened. "Brace yourselves! It's a trap!"
From the opposite side of the clearing, Skida rode out into the open, on top of her war beast. Her elite guard flanked her on all sides, weapons already drawn and smiling.
"Valorians," Skida said, in amusement. "So predictable."
As she scanned the group, her gaze fell upon the Wanderer. A twisted smile spread across her face.
"Oh..." she chuckled. "The return of the prodigal son. Long time no see, Wanderer."