Chapter 16: The Plan

I awoke to an empty space beside me in the bed, a stark reminder of the growing rift between

Drury and me. Determined to seek answers and resolution, I ventured out into the vast fortress,

my footsteps echoing through the grand halls as I searched for him.

As I wandered through the fortress in search of Drury, I couldn't help but notice the hidden

beauty that lay within its walls. The intricate details of lush green vines creeping along the accent

walls, intertwining with the dark brown wood that contrasted the cold stone, painted a picture of

nature's resilience reclaiming the space. In the courtyard at the heart of the fortress, a massive,

ancient dark wood tree stood tall, a symbol of life and history that had weathered the passage of

time. Despite the turmoil surrounding us, I found solace in these pockets of tranquility.

Wandering through the echoing halls, I observed the numerous paintings that adorned the walls.

They depicted scholars deep in thought, their expressions a testament to the pursuit of

knowledge. Generals, in their imposing regalia, were captured in moments of valor on the

battlefield. These portraits formed a gallery of history, celebrating both intellect and strength, a

testament to the values held by the Sworn and their leader, Thorne.

As I walked through the ornate halls, I couldn't help but reflect on my journey from the farm to

this grand fortress. The events that led to my meeting with Drury, the friendships forged in the

fires of adversity, the losses we endured – all of it swirled in my mind. There was a deep longing

for change, for a world where people like us, who had faced hardship and prejudice, could find

their place and thrive. The allure of the Sworn's promise of change gnawed at the edges of my

conscience, and my uncertainty about joining their ranks lingered. But one thing was certain: the

world needed to evolve, to recognize the potential within those who had been cast aside, just as

my companions and I had been.

As I stood gazing at a painting on the wall, a sense of anticipation washed over me, and my

heightened senses detected Drury's approaching presence. I continued to study the artwork, not

turning to acknowledge him. He reached me, and with an aura of remorse surrounding him, he

softly apologized for our disagreement and confessed his love.

Slowly, I turned to face him, and the genuine sincerity in his eyes warmed my heart. I could see

the weight of our recent argument weighing on him. "Drury," I began, "I love you too. It's just

that... we've been through so much, and sometimes, I worry that in our pursuit of knowledge, we

might lose ourselves along the way."

My voice carried a hint of vulnerability, an expression of my concern for the path we were

treading. Drury reached out, taking my hand in his, and in that moment, the world outside the

fortress seemed to fade away.

Drury looked into my eyes with a sincere and heartfelt expression. "I'm sorry for shutting you

out," he began. "It's just... I've been consumed by my quest for knowledge, and I let it cloud my

judgment. I don't want to lose what's most important to me, and that's you. I love you, and I

should have been more open about my thoughts and fears. I promise I'll work on being more

transparent and sharing everything with you."

I could see the genuine remorse in his eyes, and his words touched my heart. I reached out,

placing my hand on his cheek, and said, "I love you too, Drury. We can face whatever challenges

come our way as long as we're together and support each other."

I ask, “what's next?” Drury looked thoughtful as he considered the question. "I'm still not

entirely sure, but I think there's potential for us to make a difference within the Sworn," he

replied. "Thorne's vision may not be perfect, but his ideals align with our beliefs regarding magic

and its place in the world. If we can work with him to bring about change, we might be able to

reshape the Sworn into something better."

I nodded in agreement, understanding that it was a delicate path to tread. "But we have to be

cautious," I cautioned. "We need to ensure that our intentions align with Thorne's vision and that

we can truly make a positive impact."

Drury smiled, appreciating my wisdom and concern. "You're right," he admitted. "We should

approach this with a well-thought-out plan and be vigilant about the changes we hope to bring."

Drury's expression was a mix of anticipation and determination as he explained the plan to me.

"Today is the day, my love. We're going to be officially inducted into the Sworn," he began.

"Thorne has entrusted us with a crucial mission. We're to lead a team to capture a small fortress

located just outside the city. It's a key stronghold that will serve as a symbol of our opposition to

the king and the beginning of this war."

I nodded, realizing the gravity of the situation. "So, this attack will be the first move in this war

Thorne envisions," I remarked.

Drury's gaze was resolute as he replied, "Yes, and it will mark the Sworn's transition from being

a group in the shadows to a formidable force fighting for our beliefs. We have to prove our worth

today."

Hand in hand, Drury and I made our way to Thorne's war room, where the fate of the Sworn and

our role in this brewing conflict would be sealed. As we approached the war room, our footsteps

echoed in the stone corridor, adding an air of anticipation to the moment.

The war room was a stark contrast to the natural beauty we had witnessed outside. Darker tones

prevailed in this room, with wooden beams lining the ceiling, and heavy animal skins adorning

the walls, giving the space an air of gravitas. A massive wooden table dominated the center of

the room, laden with maps, documents, and various strategic pieces.

Seated around the table were the figures who held the fate of the Sworn in their hands. Thorne

commanded the head of the table, his presence exuding an aura of authority. Flanking him on

either side were two key lieutenants: Vaelar and Rhydan.

The atmosphere was tense as we entered, knowing that our induction into the Sworn and the

upcoming mission would shape our destinies in ways we couldn't fully anticipate.

Seated around the table, we took our places, each of us aware of the gravity of the situation.

Thorne began to speak, his voice carrying the weight of the world's uncertainty.

"Until now, my friends, we've discussed theories and beliefs, ideas of change and opposition,"

Thorne stated, his eyes filled with unwavering determination. "But today, it's time to turn those

discussions into actions. You're not just joining our cause; you're becoming a part of a

brotherhood bound by a common belief in freedom and the power of forbidden magic. To truly

belong to the Sworn, you'll have to prove your loyalty in the most direct way."

He continued, emphasizing the gravity of the upcoming mission. "Tonight, you'll demonstrate

your unwavering commitment by directly opposing the King's forces. This is no longer just about

theory or ideals; it's life and death. There's no turning back. You're Sworn, or you're dead."

We listened to Thorne's words, understanding that we were at a crucial crossroads, our decisions

here setting the course for our destinies, and for the future of the Sworn.

The three high-ranking members of the Sworn, Thorne, Rhyden, and Vaelar, stood up from the

table in unison, their silence echoing the gravity of the moment. With purposeful steps, they

exited the war room, leaving us alone to contemplate the path we were about to tread.

As the heavy wooden door closed behind them, I exchanged a glance with Drury. It was clear

that the time for contemplation had passed, and we were now standing on the precipice of our

destiny.

Stepping outside the war room, we were greeted by a powerful and solemn sight. The courtyard

was filled with a small army, their armor gleaming under the sun's rays, standing in perfectly

organized ranks. As one, the soldiers pounded their right fists against the left side of their chest

plates, and with unwavering unity, they dropped to one knee. Their voices rose in a thunderous

chorus, echoing through the fortress as they shouted in unison, "SWORN!"

It was a moment of affirmation, a declaration of loyalty to the cause and to their leaders, Thorne,

Rhyden, and Vaelar. We realized that we were no longer individuals on the outskirts of the

kingdom but had become part of a formidable and determined force—the Sworn.

Preparations were swiftly made, and our newly formed Sworn army marched in the direction of

Slyborn Stronghold, the King's fortress. The fortress, a symbol of the old order, stood as a

formidable obstacle in our path. We were not just challenging the King's reign but the very heart

of his power.

As we journeyed onward, our thoughts were filled with a mixture of anticipation, anxiety, and

determination. We were committed to our cause, ready to confront whatever challenges lay

ahead, and hopeful that we could bring about the change we believed was necessary for the

kingdom and its people. The path we were on had no turning back, for we were now Sworn—

loyal to our beliefs and our leaders.

Our advance came to a halt, concealed within the dense tree line that shielded us from the

fortress's watchful towers. The air was tense, our hearts pounding in anticipation of the battle to

come. We gathered in silence, making last-minute preparations, reviewing our strategies, and

ensuring that each one of us was armed and ready for the impending conflict.

Drury and I shared a final look of determination, silently reassuring each other that we were in

this together, no matter what challenges we might face. The time for action had arrived, and we

were prepared to prove our loyalty to the Sworn.

The fortress was strategically situated at the heart of the settlement, encircled by a modest village

that thrived within the protective walls. The layout was a testament to centuries of planning, as it

not only offered a home for the kingdom's subjects but also a robust defense against any

potential threats. The village's self-sufficiency, with its crops and supplies, would allow the

fortress to hold out against a siege while awaiting reinforcements from Ashenreach, the king's

seat of power.

Nevertheless, the advantages of such a design came with an eerie trade-off. A graveyard, serving

as the final resting place for the settlement's residents, lay within the fortress walls. It was an

unsettling but practical measure to deter the intrusion of creatures and to keep them buried

undisturbed by the creatures of the night. It would be within this graveyard that our challenges

would begin as we aimed to conquer Slyborn Stronghold.

As the night approached and the moon climbed higher in the sky, we finalized our plan. Drury

and I would lead a small stealthy group, getting as close as possible to the fortress walls. Drury's

necromancy would come into play when we reached the graveyard within the walls.

Once there, he would raise an undead army from the graves. These reanimated corpses would

serve as a gruesome and terrifying distraction. They'd storm the front gate, attracting the

attention of the guards and creating chaos. As the enemy soldiers focused on the unexpected

attack, it would open an opportunity for the rest of the Sworn to rush in through the front

entrance, overwhelming the defenders.

It was a daring and unconventional strategy, but our commitment to the cause was unwavering.

The time had come for the Sworn to make their presence known and challenge the rule of the

king. There was no turning back, and the outcome of this battle would set the stage for the

impending war.

Silently, Drury and I crept closer to the south gate of the Slyborn Stronghold, our steps muffled

by the cover of darkness. The guards seemed complacent, unaware of the imminent threat that

lurked in the shadows. These soldiers had likely never faced a serious challenge to the king's

rule, and it had made them lax in their duties.

We concealed ourselves behind a nearby structure, peering out to observe the guards and their

routines. It was evident that the element of surprise was on our side, and we needed to exploit

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that advantage to its fullest. Drury looked at me with a nod, silently confirming our readiness to

execute the plan. The graveyard was just beyond the gates, and the moment of reckoning was

drawing near.

Using my aura to manipulate their souls, I guided two of the guards away from the gate, into the

darkness where they sensed a presence but couldn't quite comprehend it. I took advantage of the

distraction, slipping my blade into them one by one through the cover of darkness. The

graveyard awaited us, and with it, the potential for a formidable army of undead to aid in our

mission.

We moved silently through the graveyard, keeping a close eye on the darkened shapes of

tombstones and mausoleums. The stillness of the night was broken only by the distant sounds of

the Sworn forces amassing, preparing for the attack on the stronghold. As we approached the

heart of the burial ground, the eerie atmosphere sent shivers down my spine, but I remained

focused on the task at hand. It was time for Drury to work his necromantic magic and raise an

army from the restless souls that lay at rest in this unhallowed ground.

As Drury began to channel his magic, the air around us became heavy with anticipation. The

graveyard was eerily silent, but that would soon change. He extended his hands towards the

ground, and the earth started to tremble beneath us. The burial mounds began to shift, and the

earth cracked as the restless souls trapped below clawed their way to the surface.

The noise was unmistakable, the loud, grinding sounds of the earth being disturbed. The guards

at the fortress heard the commotion and began to make their way towards the source of the

disturbance. The undead emerged from the ground, their tattered burial clothes hanging from

their skeletal frames, and their hollow, lifeless eyes stared out into the night.

The guards, seeing the horrors that were emerging from the graveyard, were filled with terror

and confusion. Drury had successfully created a diversion, and the guards were now preoccupied

with the undead horde. It was our chance to strike, as the main gates were left unguarded, and we

could push into the fortress to join the Sworn forces in their assault.

As the undead horde emerged from their graves, their movements were slow and disjointed.

These were the townsfolk who had once lived in Slyborn, now brought back to a twisted

semblance of life. Some still bore the tattered remnants of the clothes they had been buried in,

and others had the hollow, vacant stares of the long deceased.

I watched as Drury, his eyes filled with determination, guided their movements. He was in

control of this macabre army, and they obeyed his will. The undead walked with a haunting,

synchronized rhythm, driven by an otherworldly force. It was a chilling sight, one that sent

shivers down my spine.

This was the power of necromancy, the ability to command the deceased, to manipulate the

boundary between life and death. Drury had harnessed this forbidden magic for our cause, and it

was both awe-inspiring and terrifying to witness. The undead moved toward the front gate of the

fortress, their presence a harbinger of doom for those who guarded it.

With my summoned sword in hand, I rushed to Drury's side to protect him from the approaching

guards. The undead, relentless in their advance, provided a grisly distraction, but the living

adversaries were determined and fought fiercely to reach us.

The battle was intense, the clang of steel against steel and the guttural moans of the undead

creating a cacophony of chaos. I used my aura to enhance my combat abilities, striking swiftly

and with precision. My training in soul magic allowed me to harness my inner strength, making

each of my movements more agile and deadly.

Drury, beside me, displayed his own combat skills, his expertise in both magic and melee

making him a formidable opponent. His summoned undead served as a gruesome shield, their

rotting forms absorbing blows and attacks from the guards. This was a battle between life and

death, magic and steel, and it would determine the fate of the Slyborn Stronghold.

The emergence of the paladins added another layer of complexity to the battle. Clad in their

gleaming armor and wielding powerful holy magic, they posed a formidable threat. Their sacred

abilities were the bane of the undead, and their presence meant we had to adjust our tactics

quickly.

Drury and I knew that taking on the paladins head-on would be a perilous endeavor, and we had

to adapt. I summoned a shield of pure energy to protect us from the incoming attacks, while

Drury used his necromantic powers to command the undead to engage the paladins and create

diversions.

The battleground was now a chaotic tableau, with undead, guards, and paladins clashing in a

macabre dance of death and life. It was a test of our skills, strategy, and our ability to cooperate

in the face of such adversity. Our journey into Slyborn Stronghold had taken an unexpected and

challenging turn.

As the Sworn flooded through the main gate, Drury and I were caught in the chaos. The battle

was intense, and it was clear that Slyborn Stronghold was not going to fall without a fight. Drury

was hurt in the midst of combat and seeing him injured ignited a fierce determination within me.

I went berserk, my aura flaring with uncontainable energy. The pain in my chest where my own

scar from the Bunyip's attack was now a burning ember. My sword, a manifestation of my soul

magic, surged with power as I launched into a frenzy. The blade moved as an extension of my

will, striking down any opponent in my path.

The paladins tried to hold their ground, but the surge of energy that radiated from me was

overwhelming. With a surge of determination, I pushed through, not allowing any obstacles to

stand in my way. Drury's well-being was my utmost concern, and I fought like a wild, vengeful

spirit to protect him and ensure our mission's success.

Amidst the chaos and with Drury's skills, we turned the tide of battle to our advantage. As I

struck down the paladins, Drury began raising them as undead. It was a surreal and eerie scene as

lifeless bodies that were once our foes now rose to serve a new master.

The newly resurrected paladins, now under Drury's control, joined our side, fighting with

relentless loyalty. It was an eerie but effective tactic, one that sent shivers down the spines of our

remaining foes. The paladins' faith that once fueled their zeal to protect the king was now

harnessed for a different purpose, and they fought with an unnatural vigor.

The battle raged on, but with our combined efforts, we steadily pushed forward, inching closer to

the heart of Slyborn Stronghold and the ultimate goal of the Sworn's attack.

In the heat of battle, I found myself locked in combat with the captain of the paladins. His once

shining armor now bore the scars of our fierce struggle. I relentlessly pressed my attacks until I

finally brought him to his knees. Desperation filled his eyes, and he begged for mercy, but in that

moment, something inside me snapped.

I, who had always sought to heal and protect, had become a merciless force. It was as if a dark

presence had taken hold of me. Ignoring the captain's pleas, I struck him down with a brutal

finality. The act was so sudden and violent that it left me in shock, my hands and weapon now

stained with the crimson evidence of my actions.

The savage nature of my attacks was unsettling, and I couldn't help but wonder if the forbidden

magic we had embraced was corrupting us, transforming us into monsters. But with the battle

still raging around us, there was little time to dwell on these troubling thoughts.

As I surveyed the chaotic battlefield, my eyes were drawn to the ominous figures in black armor,

the enigmatic soldiers of the Sworn. They moved with ruthless efficiency, eliminating the last of

the king's men who had survived the onslaught. When they were done, they turned their attention

toward me.

Their black armor concealed their faces, leaving only their piercing eyes visible through the

narrow slits in their helmets. Those eyes bore into me with an intensity that sent shivers down

my spine. It was a silent demand, a request that I could feel deep within my soul – they wanted

me to lead them.

The gravity of the situation washed over me. I was now at the helm of this formidable force, a

position I had never imagined myself in. The power and responsibility that came with it weighed

heavily on my shoulders, and the choices I would make in the coming days would have far

reaching consequences.

Summoning every ounce of courage, I addressed the imposing figures in black armor. My voice

quivered, but my resolve was unwavering. "Ram the castle doors down and find the lord of

Slyborn," I commanded, my words laced with authority.

With silent nods, they moved swiftly, following my orders without question. Their unity and

unwavering loyalty to our cause gave me the strength to push forward, even in the face of the

unknown. The tide of the battle had shifted, and we were determined to seize control and

confront the lord of Slyborn.

The lord of Slyborn stronghold was a man of great courage and physical strength, with short,

gray hair and a brawny build. As he confronted us, he spoke with a snarl, his defiant eyes

unwavering as he faced the imminent threat.

He sneered, "Go ahead and kill me. The king is coming, and you're all dead."

I approached him, my gaze locked onto his resolute expression. "Killing you won't change our

mission," I replied, my voice steady and determined. "We're not here to take your life. We're here

to defy the king, to challenge his reign and bring about a change that is long overdue."

The lord's expression wavered, torn between defiance and fear, but he didn't relent. In the

distance, the sound of approaching forces echoed through the halls. Our time was limited, and we

needed to press forward with our plan.

As we reached the top of the tower overlooking the gates, a sense of urgency weighed on me.

The approaching army was larger and quicker than I had expected. I turned to Drury, my voice

filled with concern, "It's a day's ride here. How did the King respond so fast?"

Drury, who was observing the advancing forces below, replied with a grim expression, "I don't

know, but it seems the king was better prepared for our actions than we anticipated. This won't

be an easy fight."

With a sense of determination, I addressed Drury, my voice carrying a tone of calm authority,

"Have the Sworn open the front gate and instruct them to hide among the buildings."

Drury, recognizing the resolve in my words, didn't question my plan and immediately relayed the

orders to the Sworn. They swiftly moved to open the gate and then stealthily concealed

themselves within the structures of the town.

The approaching army drew nearer, unaware of the trap we were preparing for them. Our fate

hung in the balance as we braced for the impending conflict.

As the King's forces eliminated the last of the undead, they split into small groups, venturing

down alleyways and into houses to search for any remaining threats. In those narrow, hidden

spaces, the Sworn proved their stealth and lethality, dealing silently with the unsuspecting

guards, one by one, ensuring that no survivors could alert the main force to our presence.

Stepping into the open, I confronted the captain one on one. The other guards were taken care of,

and it was just the two of us. He gazed at me with a mix of fear and determination, realizing that

he was the last line of defense.

The captain dropped to his knees as I harnessed the power of my aura to crush his soul. It was a

swift and effective method, and he fell to the ground, gasping for breath and writhing in pain.

I approached the captain with an air of calm authority, loosening my grip on his soul just enough

for his screams to subside. He gasped for breath as I kneeled, meeting his eyes with mine.

"Tell your king he lost today," I said, my voice steady and resolute. "Tell him where we are and

what we did. I am the Soul Reaper. We are the Sworn. And this is the beginning of his end."

He dashed away in fear and the castle was ours.