While Aron was having his 'Friendly' chat with the prisoners, Eryndor woke up with a headache.
"Ugh!...where am I?" At first, he didn't recall what happened and felt confused when he glanced around, finding himself nestled within the familiar confines of his bunk in the barracks.
As he sat up and shook his head, a wave of memories crashed down upon him. His brow furrowed as he recalled the humiliating defeat he suffered at the hands of the new Lord Commander. The man seemed impervious to his attacks as if his skin were crafted from granite.
Yet, the source of Eryndor's fury wasn't the one-sided duel. It was the Lord Commander's direct responsibility for his mission to fail. When that mace fell and caused the magical orbs to explode, it served as a beacon alerting all the monsters inside the great forest.
Only three members of his unit managed to escape with their lives, saved solely by the monsters' preoccupation with devouring their fallen comrades.
A week after the incident, Eryndor dispatched one of the surviving soldiers back to the forest. He was a nimble scout with few skills that helped him traverse unnoticed; that's why he survived in the first place.
The scout managed to find the mace and bring it back. Eryndor hoped to use the mana signature in it to locate its owner, but luck wasn't on his side.
A mere week was enough time for the magical energy within the mace to dissipate entirely. Nevertheless, Eryndor clung to the weapon, a grim reminder of his failure, as he reported back to the Capital.
The King's response was a tempestuous eruption of rage. The news of the mission's failure ignited a firestorm within him. The consequences were dire, extending far beyond the loss of highly trained soldiers. A staggering 30% of the kingdom's annual budget had been funneled into Eryndor's mission, seemingly in vain.
Eryndor's jaw clenched tight as he relived the humiliation of his demotion. Stripped of his rank, he was cast out like a common criminal and sent to serve amongst the Frostguard.
"But I found him," Eryndor muttered, his voice laced with steely resolve.
Crouching down, he retrieved a leather pouch from beneath his bunk. He rummaged through his belongings until he located his prize, quickly tucking it beneath his shirt.
Immediately he made his way out of the barracks. His mind raced with thoughts of vengeance and redemption. He couldn't let his failure define him, couldn't let the disgrace of his demotion consume him. He had to prove himself, had to find a way to make things right.
With quick steps, Eryndor made his way unnoticed through the corridors of the Frostguard barracks. Reaching a certain wooden door, Eryndor glanced left and right to ensure no one was watching before slipping inside.
The room beyond was dimly lit, with only a few flickering torches illuminating the space. It was a storage chamber, filled with crates and barrels stacked haphazardly against the walls.
Eryndor wasted no time, he swiftly hid behind the crates just in case someone walked inside. Then from under his shirt, he pulled out a crystal orb—A communication orb.
With the crystal orb in hand, Eryndor's fingers traced the smooth surface, feeling its cool energy pulsating beneath his touch. Although simple and slightly common, the orb was a powerful artifact, capable of connecting him to others across great distances.
Closing his eyes, Eryndor focused his thoughts, channeling his intent into the orb. He whispered a command, activating its magical properties. A soft glow emanated from the orb, casting a warm light in the dim storage chamber.
With a deep breath, Eryndor began to speak, his voice steady despite the turmoil raging within him. "This is Former Commander Eryndor," he said, his words echoing within the confines of the chamber. "I require immediate contact with the King's advisor."
The orb hummed softly in response, its magical energies pulsing with each syllable spoken. Eryndor waited with bated breath, his heart pounding in anticipation as he prayed for a response.
An eternity seemed to pass before a faint voice resonated from the orb, imbued with an air of authority and command. "Eryndor, this is not an opportune moment. I am currently engaged in a critical meeting—"
"I found him," Eryndor didn't care that he just interrupted the King's advisor; what was important for him was delivering the information as quickly as possible and maybe he would get his former rank back.
The voice on the other end of the orb fell silent for a moment, and then there was a sharp intake of breath, followed by a hurried rustling of papers. "Eryndor, what do you mean?" The advisor's tone was urgent now, curiosity mingled with disbelief. "Who did you find?"
Eryndor's grip tightened on the crystal orb, his resolve hardening with each passing second. "The culprit responsible for the mission's failure," he declared, his voice unwavering. "The owner of that mace."
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There was a brief pause on the other end of the line, during which Eryndor could almost sense the advisor's mind racing. Then, finally, his voice crackled through the orb once more. "Who is he? And where can I find him?"
Eryndor took a moment to compose himself before responding to the advisor's urgent inquiries. With a sense of determination, he relayed the crucial information, his voice steady despite the tumultuous emotions swirling within him.
"His name is Aron, and he is the new Lord Commander of the Frostguard. He–" Eryndor began, but he was abruptly cut off by the advisor.
"Wait!...The new Lord Commander? Since when? I haven't received any reports of the King appointing a new leader for the Frostguard."
Eryndor quickly responds, noticing the irritating tone in the advisor's voice. "Just today, and I believe it was the Queen, not the King, who appointed him."
Eryndor's words hung in the air, the tension palpable even through the magical connection of the communication orb. The advisor's silence stretched, indicating his surprise at this revelation.
Finally, a response crackled through the orb, laden with a mix of confusion and urgency. "The Queen? But why would she appoint a new Lord Commander without consulting the King or the council?"
After a moment of deliberation, the advisor let out a heavy sigh. "Anything else?" he inquired.
Without hesitation, Eryndor divulged the information he overheard while sneaking towards the storage chamber. "There was an incident earlier today," he revealed. "The cook attempted to poison the new Lord Commander but failed. They dragged him and three others to the dungeons."
"I see, thank you Eryndor," surprising Eryndor, the advisor attempted to quickly cut the link for some reason; however, before he could, Eryndor swiftly spoke.
"Advisor about me…" he didn't have to finish for the advisor to understand what he meant.
"I'll see what I can do." That's all he said before abruptly severing the connection.
Eryndor sighed heavily as the connection to the communication orb was severed, leaving him alone in the dimly lit storage chamber. His mind raced with a mix of anticipation, anxiety, and determination. He had taken a significant risk by reaching out to the King's advisor, but it was a risk he felt compelled to take in his quest for redemption.
Gathering his thoughts, Eryndor tucked the communication orb back into his shirt and glanced around the storage room. The crates and barrels seemed to loom over him, casting long shadows in the flickering torchlight.
With a determined stride, Eryndor made his way out of the storage chamber and back into the corridors and to his bed. Yet he failed to notice that his shadow didn't follow him. Two violet eyes could be seen for a second in the shadow before it completely disappeared.
…
"FUCKING HELL!"
BAAM!
"Those little SHIT! I told them to wait for my orders and do nothing!"
BAAM!
"What's wrong?!" a woman's voice came from the doorway, she and two men just entered the room only to see the king's advisor having an outburst.
Standing amidst the wreckage of his frustration, he turned to face the newcomers, his expression a mix of anger and exasperation.
"The Queen," he spat, his voice hoarse. "She appointed behind our back a new lord commander for the Frostguard, and it happens to be the very same individual responsible for Eryndor's mission to fail. Plus he just caught our agents trying to poison him."
The woman's eyes widened in shock at the advisor's revelation. She exchanged a quick glance with the two men accompanying her, her expression growing serious.
"This is... troubling news," she remarked, her voice laced with concern. "We cannot afford to have such disruptions, especially with the Frostguard. They are crucial to our plans."
The advisor nodded grimly, the weight of the situation settling upon him. "Indeed. We've invested a significant amount of time and resources into this operation. We can't afford for it to crumble now.
His gaze swept across the faces before him, searching for a shred of agreement. "I suggest another assassination."
The suggestion of another assassination hung heavy in the air, its implications sinking in among the group. The woman's brow furrowed as she considered the advisor's proposal, weighing the risks and potential consequences.
"It's a risky move," she admitted, her voice tight with apprehension. "But if we don't act swiftly, we risk losing even more ground. We cannot allow this new Lord Commander to disrupt our plans any further."
One of the men chuckled humorlessly. "Relax, advisor," he interjected. "The Frostguard is already compromised. We've infected all of them, their supplies are dwindling, and their manpower is stretched thin. One man can't solve all their problems, especially in such a short time frame before the monster waves begin."
The man's words hung in the air, a grim reminder of the dire situation they faced. The woman's gaze hardened, her resolve strengthening as she processed his statement.
"You may have a point," she conceded, her voice steady despite the uncertainty that lingered in the room. "But we cannot underestimate our enemies; it's clear that the new Lord Commander is on the queen's side."
"Yes," the man nodded. "But our primary concern should be the Queen. Her army outnumbers ours, and she enjoys the support of the populace."
The advisor remained silent, his mind churning with the weight of their conversation. He couldn't afford to abandon their carefully laid plans, especially with only two months remaining. An idea sparked within him, a flicker of hope amidst the chaos.
"Actually," he began, a sly grin creeping across his face, "Our plan might be even more advantageous with the new Lord Commander in the picture."
The others turned to the advisor, curiosity evident in their expressions as they awaited his explanation.
The advisor's lips curved into a sly smile as he outlined his strategy. "We've always struggled to find a way to lure the Queen's army away from the capital. Now, with a Lord Commander seemingly loyal to her, we can exploit that to our advantage."
"How so?" the woman prompted, her brow furrowed with intrigue.
"When the Frostguard falls, we can turn the minds of the people against the queen, blaming her for appointing an incompetent Lord Commander who led the kingdom's defense to ruin," the advisor explained, his tone dripping with malice.
"This will pressure the Queen, who cares deeply for her people's well-being, to deploy her army north to defend against the monsters. Leaving the capital exposed and ripe for the taking."
The woman's eyes gleamed with understanding as she grasped the intricacies of the advisor's plan. "Brilliant," she murmured, a hint of admiration in her voice.
The two men nodded in agreement, their expressions filled with a newfound sense of determination. They understood the importance of seizing this opportunity to strike at the heart of the kingdom's power structure.
A wave of satisfaction washed over the advisor as he surveyed his comrades. "Indeed, my friends," he declared, his voice brimming with conviction. "With this plan in motion, victory shall be ours. We will orchestrate the downfall of the Queen and ascend to power, ruling the kingdom from the shadows with our puppet King at the helm."