The triangular tunnel was cramped. Edwin’s shoulders were so wide, he had to twist sideways and crawl on his hands and knees to make it through without his pauldrons getting stuck. The wall wasn’t too thick, but he was nevertheless relieved when he spilled out onto the dirt and could stand up to his full height. He stood between the tall wall on one side and a large barracks building on the other, with the path that ran along the inside of the wall a patch of deepest blackness. That was good, as the fog was much less dense inside the fortress, having likely struggled to cross the tall fortifications. That was a problem, but one they had foreseen. Hafarn squeezed through the hole following just behind Bordan, and he quickly closed his eyes and started casting.
“Softly,” Salissa reminded him, carefully placing a hand atop the young man’s shoulder so as to not interrupt his concentration.
Moments later, white mist billowed out from Hafarn, though much slower than usual, the hiss of rushing air barely audible even to Edwin. It wasn’t visible as a rolling wall, as the air was already filled with tiny droplets of water from earlier. Instead, the haze of grey that surrounded them simply inched closer. People would notice but hopefully attribute it to the fog crawling in through the breach in the northern wall or climbing over the battlements with time.
Ignoring the mage, Edwin joined Bordan near the barracks wall.
“I think we’re in the right spot,” his friend whispered, “or at least in the right area. We didn’t cross the road, so the storage sector must be that way.”
Edwin nodded, though Bordan couldn’t see it in the darkness. Firetail had procured a map of the fortress for them, and their entry point had been chosen based on his information. By the time of their arrival, the soldiers quartered there should have long been roused by the alarm and hurried toward the fighting, but Artelby’s main supply area, situated along the road that entered the fortress from the south, would still be filled with logistics personnel. Premature discovery would ruin their plan, so they needed to stay away from that as much as possible.
They continued on before the last of the cohort had crossed under the wall, setting off into the gloomy haze. There were lamp holders at each intersection, but they were unlit, so the intruders moved in darkness. Edwin kept his ears on a swivel, but aside from the sound of battle in the distance he heard nothing that worried him. A few times he heard voices, but none were close enough that they had to change course. In truth, he was surprised by how easy it was. The officers and Firetail had agreed that there shouldn’t be anyone around there after the alarm went off, but it seemed crazy to Edwin that they could simply mosey through an enemy fortress without being stopped.
They reached a large road that bisected their path, the main outer artery that looped around the entire fortress, and stopped in the shadows of the buildings. This road was lit, albeit sporadically, and without the fog, crossing against the backlight would’ve made them clearly visible to anyone within a hundred meters. As it was, they hustled across the road and disappeared between the buildings on the opposite side, the cohort trailing after. A few more minutes of tense walking, fearing that an enemy might round a corner at any moment to raise the alarm, then the inner palisade appeared out of the fog to block their path.
The reason that their route so far had been completely deserted was that nobody had reason to be there at this time. The barracks either held parts of Lindvar division that were currently fighting at the breach, or they were completely empty, as Artelby had enough accommodations for several times the number of men Lindvar had left. Now, the adventurers’ easy life was over, as they were about to enter a more critical area. The former village of Artelby still served as the heart of the fortress, keeping everything important inside a second line of fortifications.
Of course, the outer wall was much more impressive, and that hadn’t stopped them either.
Once more, Master Gregory came to the front and placed his hands against the logs. Forced to wait, Edwin shifted from one foot to another, running his gloved fingers along the glaive’s structured haft. Curiously, it took longer than it had the first time around. It made sense, Edwin supposed. Cutting a hole was easy, keeping the structure above the hole from collapsing was anything but. With the stone wall, the internal structure had been mostly intact, making it strong enough to hold itself despite the comparatively small incision. A palisade lacked that internal cohesion, and if you cut away the bottom of a log, the top was hanging free.
Finally, Gregory stepped back, gesturing to Salissa to pull. The piece that floated out of the wall was larger in diameter than the first one and actually shaped like a door with an arched top. Edwin was the first through the hole once more, this time without crawling, but he took the time to run his hand along the edge as he passed. Even through his gloves, he could feel the boundary where the wood gave way to what was effectively a finger-thick magestone doorframe. He couldn’t help but mentally tip his hat to Gregory. Any mage with some training in materialism could achieve the same effect, but to do it in two minutes, in enemy territory, in complete darkness, without making a single sound? That was the work of a master.
Dipping through the freshly cut door, Edwin entered the inner ring and immediately noticed the difference. The path he stepped onto was paved, the building ahead looked sturdier and more elaborate than the rows upon rows of identical barracks behind them, and while the area immediately around him was dark, he could see lights shining through the fog in all directions. The center would be populated even during a fight, so from here on out they were on borrowed time. Sooner or later they would be discovered, so speed quietly slid up the list of priorities to come to rest at the top right next to stealth.
Edwin stuck his hand back through the hole, giving Bordan a thumbs up to show him the coast was clear. His teammates followed, then the mages, then adventurers streamed through after them. They split into groups and moved off in different directions, each with their own target. At the head of first banner, Edwin led the way into the heart of Artelby.
Despite the lack of vision, Edwin walked confidently. Firetail’s map had been very detailed, to the point that Edwin was absolutely certain that the Raven had a spy with access to the center. He hadn’t offered to use his contacts to provide them entry like the Marradi had, but cutting a hole in the wall had been on the table from the start, so he likely didn’t feel the need to endanger his assets. Either way, with Walter projecting the map into a corner of his vision from his memory, Edwin quickly realized exactly where he was from the shape of the buildings around him. As Artelby had been a real village in the past, they were much more irregular than those in the outer ring that had been added after. None were the original houses, but as they had been rebuilt one by one instead of all at once, the original layout of the center and the dimensions of the buildings hadn’t changed much.
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The buildings were made of stone, at least two stories high and many had their own courtyards. Apparently, these were where officers of visiting divisions and other important personnel resided. This meant that they were close to their target: The command center itself. According to Firetail’s intelligence, it should be nearly identical to the structure back in 5th division’s fort near Pel Darni, a small stone fortress within a fortress to protect the most important officers and keep prying eyes away from confidential information. There would be no sneaking into that one, as it was the one place that would be teeming with soldiers right now.
As Edwin rounded a corner, the sound of voices ahead caused him to stop in his tracks. Ducking back behind the building, he raised his hand to signal the banner to do the same, then tilted his head to listen. It sounded like an argument, and once he was certain that the voices weren’t moving towards them, he snuck closer, waving the others to follow.
“You’re mad!” a man yelled. “You can’t do that!”
“We’re doing it right now,” a woman answered, her voice hard.
“That’s… that’s treason! You swore an oath!”
“You want to preach mage law to us?” another man cut in. “After all your ilk have done? You must be joking.”
“The decision was made by the council,” the first one argued, sounding defensive. “It is our duty to follow their judgements.”
“The council, sure. After you had half of it killed and replaced with puppets!” the woman hissed.
The voices were coming from the walled courtyard of a house a little further along. Nobody else seemed to be around, so Edwin hurried across the road and quietly made his way to the open archway.
“Those are baseless accusations!” the first one said, though he had lost the bravado and anger he’d shown at the beginning. “The Inquisition never found the cause.”
“Everyone knows Kelmor did it,” the second man said quietly. “That we don’t know how doesn’t change that. We went along with it all because we were afraid we’d be next, but that stops now. I’d rather die than share responsibility for this! We need to end it. Now, before it’s too late!”
His voice became tinged with pain, almost begging.
“Torril, please. You saw what happened yesterday – so much death and destruction, and this is just the beginning! Do you want to be responsible for unleashing this horror upon the world? If all of us step up and take a stand, we can still make things right!”
“You’re a traitor.” The first man’s voice sounded hoarse, his words choked out with difficulty. “You’re traitors, all of you. I’ll give you one chance to come to your senses and follow your orders, for old time’s sake.”
“Torril…” Disbelief and fear warred in the woman’s voice.
“No. Join me in the defense and I won’t speak of this again. Refuse, and you leave me no choice except to treat you like the traitors you are.”
“Torril you’re mad!” the woman said. “We don’t want to fight you, but there are ten of us! Frenig, Taskor, are you just going to go along with this? You know this is wrong!”
There was a pause, then a new voice joined the conversation. From the sound of it, it had to belong to a very young man. “Please, Lucille, just do what he says. I know you think Master Kelmor did all those things, but if he’d really broken the law, the Inquisition would’ve arrested him. I know this is hard for you, but we’re in the right here. Please, don’t do anything you can’t undo.”
“Like launching fireballs at mundanes?” the second man asked heatedly. “You think we can undo that? You’ve used your magic to kill people, Frenig. Can you truly live with that?”
“Enough!” Torril cut in. “This isn’t a discussion. You either follow the order or you commit treason against both the crown and the law.”
“The crown?” the second man sputtered angrily. “That boy is no more a king than me, whether he dips his ass in gold—"
“Be quiet!” Torril roared. “Fight the Harvand dogs or fight me! Which will it be?”
A distant shout interrupted the moment, and Edwin jumped into action. From the sound of it, it had to come from the other side of the former village. Most likely, one of the other banners had been spotted. They needed to get to the command center right now, or the entire operation would fail.
Before the shout had died off, Edwin was already around the corner, mana burning in his veins like wood in a furnace. Time slowed as he entered the courtyard, and he took in the situation in an instant. Three robed men were standing with their backs to him, while he could just make out another group further in, illuminated by lamps and magelights.
“What was—” Torril began to ask. The mage on Edwin’s right died first, his head flying off without a sound other than the misty air singing through the magestone roots. He had been the shortest of the three, so the blade hit Torril just under the shoulder, amputating his right arm and continuing through his collarbone before exiting just below his neck on the other side. The left mage was roughly the same height as Torril. Once the glaive reached him it was just below his ear, cleanly bisecting his head between his mouth and his nose. The momentum pulled Edwin to the left, and he took a step to catch himself while three robed corpses slumped to the ground.
“What…” one of the remaining mages began, her voice identifying her as the woman from before. “What have you done?”
“Fifth division, ninth battalion, Harvand army,” Edwin said loudly. “Surrender or be treated as combatants.”
“You… you killed them!”
One of the mages stumbled aside and loudly threw up onto the cobblestones, likely due to the brain leaking out of the piece of skull at his feet. With a bit of effort, Edwin suppressed his bloodlust and shifted out of combat mode, taking a deep breath and continuing in a calmer voice.
“Look, I heard what you said. Had they been swayed by your words, I would’ve asked them to surrender as well. They chose their path, and this is where it leads.”
Before they could answer, someone stepped beside Edwin. “He is right, Lucille.”
“…Master Gregory? Is that really you?”
“I am sorry, child, but this is neither the place nor the time for a philosophical discussion. They made their choice. Now you need to think about yourself. Do you want to fight and extend this senseless war, or do you want to join us in ending it?”
There was a pregnant pause, the wetness in the air seeming almost too thick to breathe. Then she sighed, looking at the mages beside her. For the first time Edwin really looked at the group, studying the decorations on their robes. Materialist brown. Alchemist purple. Arcanist blue. A girl at the back wore spellweaver red, and she didn’t seem particularly belligerent, hiding as she was behind those in front of her.
“We surrender.”
Gregory nodded. “I promise you, you will not regret it.”
Another scream sounded in the distance, and Edwin whirled around. The other adventurers had flooded into the courtyard behind him, fanning out into a half circle around the remaining mages. Before he found Bordan in the twisting shadows of the magelights, his friend was already springing into action.
“First banner, back onto the road. Edwin, get your ass in front and lead us to the command center. Double time!”
“You can’t keep up if I double time,” Edwin grunted.
“Doesn’t matter,” Bordan growled. “Go on ahead if you must, just make sure they don’t close that gate.”
In the gloomy darkness, Edwin smiled a predatory smile as he slammed his helmet onto his head and pushed free of the press of adventurer bodies. The small taste of combat had left him with an ember of unspent energy burning in his belly, and the metallic scent of blood leaking onto the wet cobbles made his muscles twitch. Finally, it was time to give in to the hunger.