I observed them for as long as I could afford. The longer I delayed, the more would die. But if I rushed into the fight, my friends would die as well, achieving nothing in the process. It was a pointless dilemma. I exhaled slowly, letting the noise of the battlefield fade into the background. There was no perfect moment. No flawless execution. Only the choice to act, and that would have to be enough.
"Bjorn, you take Jurgen and circle wide. Hit the far engine first. Quietly," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "If things go wrong, don't hesitate. Burn it and fall back." Bjorn gave a sharp nod, his usual grin nowhere to be seen. " Magnus, you are with them for ranged support." Even here, Magnus was as calm as ever.
"Alexander," I continued, not looking at him, "with me. We take the closest one."
There was a brief pause before he responded. "As you command."
My gaze returned to the nearest trebuchet. The crew moved with practiced efficiency, loading another boulder, their focus entirely on the battlefield ahead. Guards stood in loose formation around them, watchful, but not even close to being enough. One of the soldiers shifted away from the group, muttering something under his breath. His hand went to his belt as he walked toward the edge of the tree line, back turned to his comrades. His carelessness would be to my gain. I felt a faint smile tug at my lips.
Without another word, I activated Blink. The world around me twisted. Space folded in on itself for the briefest instant, and then I was there, standing directly behind him. He hadn't even finished untying his trousers. My hand closed over his mouth, cutting off the sound before it could form. His body tensed in sudden shock, but the reaction came too late to matter.
The blade slid between his ribs with controlled precision, guided upward until it met resistance. I felt the moment it pierced his heart, the tension in his body faltering almost instantly. His movements weakened, then stopped entirely. When his life faded, I felt something cold enter my body, going directly to my soul well spell, but now was not the time to focus on that. I held him in place for a moment longer, ensuring there would be no final struggle, before lowering him carefully to the ground. Even in death, noise was a liability.
Once he was down, I withdrew the blade and wiped it clean against his tunic, my attention already shifting back toward the siege engine. There were only nine soldiers protecting it left. Giving the signal to Alexander. I immediately closed my eyes as a bright flash blinded the soldiers. Alex's flash was blocked by the trebuchet, so it was only visible to those on our side. When the bright light began to dissipate, I blinked again. This time, in the middle of the soldiers. "Shit! What was that?!" One of the soldiers yelled/ before their eyes could adjust, I was already on the move. My nodachi swerved through the soldiers. The blade was doused in blood and chipped on bone as I cut through the opposition.
After killing three of the soldiers, they adjusted to the flash bang. After dispatching the soldier infront of me, I was too slow to react to the spear angled directly towards my head from the left. Another minor flash of light and the distinct smell of burnt flesh was the only indication that Alexander had made his move. The spear-wielding soldier died on the spot, a beam of light having pierced through his skull. Jumping into the thick of it, his bastard sword moved with great precision. I could recognise the mark of another genius when I watched how he moved.
Two soldiers challenged me at once, both spear wielders moved opposite each other. In an attempt to attack me from two angles. A lightning bolt solved my problem instantly, as it scorched the one in front of me, leaving only one in my way. A quick decapitation later, and I realized that Alexander had already killed the rest. With every kill, I felt the same cold energy enter my soul. At one point, I could have sworn I heard a scream. Seeing my gaze, he nodded at me before continuing to clean his blade. Without wasting a second, I opened the flask of dragon fire and doused the siege engine with it. A small spark later, and the entire thing was lit ablaze with green fire that burned through it so quickly that within seconds it had turned to ash, leaving only molten slag from the loaded boulder and molten metal from the nails.
Having made a lot of noise, plus the trebuchet going up in flames, stealth was no longer an option. With that in mind, we charged towards the next siege engine. The catapult was only guarded by three soldiers, allowing us to make quick work of the opposition. Just like that, another weapon went up in flames. Besides the initial ten guards, the siege weapons were severely underguarded. Which allowed us to barrel through them, taking life like a young girl picking flowers. But all good things must come to an end. When we reached the rest of our squad, all we saw was ice covering the ground, frozen corpses, and cracks in the earth. Yet no one was in sight.
All the siege engines had been destroyed, so our mission was a success. We had agreed to retreat the second it was finished, but when I found Bjorn's warhammer lying on the ground, my heart started hammering in my chest. The weapon was half-buried in the frozen earth, its head stained with blood that had already begun to darken. Bjorn would never abandon his weapon, not even in death. That alone told me everything I needed to know.
I stepped forward, my eyes scanning the battlefield more carefully now. What I had first taken for scattered debris revealed itself to be something far worse. Bodie littered the ground in uneven clusters. Some were encased in jagged ice, their expressions frozen in the final moments of their lives. Others had been torn apart by raw force; the earth beneath them cracked as if something had struck with enough power to shatter stone.
There was no order to it. No formation. Only the aftermath of overwhelming violence.
"Bjorn…" I muttered under my breath, though I knew there would be no answer.
I moved further inward, each step taking me closer to the center of whatever had happened here. The air felt… wrong. Heavy in a way that had nothing to do with mana. My vision began to blur slightly at the edges, as if something unseen was pressing against my senses. At first, I ignored it. Fatigue was expected. We had pushed ourselves hard, and the battle was far from over. Yet with each step, the sensation grew worse. My limbs felt heavier, my movements slower, as though something was draining the strength from my body with quiet persistence.
I tightened my grip on my blade, forcing myself forward. Not now. I could not afford weakness. Not here. The battlefield stretched out before me in a sea of corpses, and yet I could not find a single trace of my squad. No movement. No voices. Nothing but silence and death. My vision dimmed further. Dark spots crept into the edges of my sight, slowly encroaching inward. I gritted my teeth, forcing my body to respond, but the connection between thought and action felt distant, as though I were no longer fully in control of myself. Something was wrong. Very wrong.
Through the haze, I caught sight of movement. Alexander. He was running; there was no composure in his movements, no calculated precision. Only unrestrained urgency. Behind him, two figures cloaked in black pursued with terrifying speed, their forms blurred as if they did not fully belong to this world. For a brief moment, our eyes met. Then something wet spread across my abdomen. The realization came slowly, delayed by the fog that clouded my mind. I looked down, my vision struggling to focus, and saw the hilt of a dagger buried deep in my gut. I did not remember it happening. There had been no warning. No pain. Only the quiet, undeniable fact that I had been struck.
My fingers moved sluggishly toward the wound, pressing against it in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding. Warmth seeped through my gloves, slick and unmistakable. So this is how it ends. The thought came without fear, without resistance. The last thing I saw was Alexander disappearing into the distance, the two figures behind him closing the gap with relentless efficiency. Then everything went dark.
—
When I opened my eyes, I was still there. The battlefield had not changed. Yet everything else had. The sound of battle was gone. No clash of steel. No screams. No distant thunder of spells. Only uncomfortable silence remained, heavy and suffocating in its stillness. Around me lay a sea of corpses. Hundreds of them, perhaps more, littered the ground. Both sides were represented in equal measure, their bodies scattered across the field in a grotesque display of mutual destruction. Some lay where they had fallen, weapons still clutched in lifeless hands. Others had been reduced to little more than broken forms, unrecognizable in death.
For a long moment, I did not move. My thoughts felt slow, distant, as if I were still struggling to wake from a dream that refused to release its hold on me. Then the pain returned; it came all at once like an all-consuming wave. A strained breath escaped my lips as my hand instinctively pressed against my abdomen. The dagger was still there, embedded just as it had been before. Blood soaked through my armor, warm and persistent as it continued to seep from the wound. I needed to move. Staying here would mean death. Not a swift one, but a slow and meaningless end among the corpses. That was not acceptable. With unsteady effort, I forced myself to my feet. My legs trembled beneath me, threatening to give out at any moment, but I held firm. One step followed another, each one heavier than the last as I began making my way back toward the fortress.
The world swayed around me. Black spots marred my vision, growing larger with each passing moment. I tightened my grip against the wound, applying as much pressure as I could to slow the bleeding, though I knew it would not be enough. Not for long. Still, I moved. Because stopping was not an option. Not yet.