The night enveloped the camp in a heavy silence. Only the crackling of campfires and the murmurs of men disturbed the darkness. After the battle against Varian, exhaustion was palpable. Some tended to their wounds, others drank in silence, their gazes lost in the flames. But despite the victory, Kael could not find sleep.

  Sitting apart, he stared at the blade of his sword, his face reflected on the steel, marked by fatigue and years of war. Dried blood clung to the metal, a constant reminder of the price of each battle.

  A movement in the shadows caught his attention. He didn’t move, waiting for the presence to reveal itself.

  — Still so cautious, murmured Lysara as she approached.

  Kael raised an eyebrow.

  — After everything we've been through, how could I not be?

  She knelt beside him, her eyes fixed on the blade he held.

  — You think too much.

  — A leader who doesn't think is a dead leader, he replied.

  She gave a faint smile.

  — A leader who doesn’t sleep either.

  Kael sighed, but before he could respond, a scream tore through the night. He sprang to his feet, his sword already in hand.

  — It came from the north of the camp! Lysara shouted.

  They ran through the tents and discovered a gruesome scene. One of their men lay on the ground, his throat slit, a pool of blood spreading beneath him.

  Kael felt a presence. He looked up and saw them.

  Hooded figures, gliding out of the darkness like specters. Their movements were fluid, calculated. Assassins. The Nocturnes.

  Kael felt his chest tighten. He knew these shadows. He had once been one of them.

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  One of them stepped forward, a dagger gleaming under the torchlight.

  — The Order has not forgotten you, Kael.

  — I am no longer one of you, he replied coldly.

  — That does not matter. We have come to reclaim what is ours.

  Kael clenched his teeth. He knew what that meant.

  — And if I refuse?

  A suffocating silence followed. Then, the assassin smirked beneath his mask.

  — Then we will take everything you hold dear.

  Kael felt rage rising within him.

  — Try it.

  The assassin did not respond. He simply raised his hand.

  Then everything exploded.

  The Nocturnes descended upon the camp like death incarnate. Kael barely parried the first attack, stepping back under the force of the impact. These men were no ordinary soldiers. They were fast, precise, deadly.

  A flash of steel cut through the air. Kael dodged just in time, feeling the blade graze his throat. He counterattacked, but his opponent melted into the shadows before reappearing behind him.

  He barely had time to raise his sword to block a killing blow.

  Around him, his men struggled to resist, but they were unprepared for such an assault. Darius, his second-in-command, fought with savage ferocity, pushing back the assailants with powerful swings of his axe. Lysara danced between the shadows, her daggers striking with surgical precision.

  But for every enemy cut down, another emerged from the darkness.

  Kael knew they couldn’t hold out like this.

  He needed a plan.

  Fast.

  His mind sharpened, analyzing the battle around him.

  The Nocturnes relied on scattered formations, striking swiftly before vanishing. But here, on a battlefield in chaos, their tactical advantage was diminished.

  Kael ducked under a dagger strike and plunged his sword into the assassin’s gut, feeling the blade pierce flesh and bone. The body collapsed, but another foe was already upon him.

  Behind him, a cry of agony made him turn. One of his men had fallen, his throat slashed. Kael's rage exploded.

  — Regroup! Form a circle!

  His soldiers obeyed, closing ranks around him. The goal was simple: deny the Nocturnes the space they needed to maneuver and kill.

  The assassins hesitated for a fraction of a second. A fraction too long.

  Darius took the opportunity to bring his axe down on an enemy’s skull. Lysara drove her dagger into another’s throat. Blood splattered the ground.

  Kael knew they wouldn’t last forever. But they didn’t need to. They just had to hold long enough to break the assault.

  Then suddenly, a horn sounded in the distance.

  The Nocturnes froze.

  Then, as if they had never been there, they vanished into the darkness.

  Kael clenched his teeth, his blade still dripping with blood. This was no victory.

  This was just a warning.

  And he knew this was only the beginning.