It has been three weeks since the defense of the fortress. My recovery had been slower than I would have liked, but I was just glad to be alive. During my recovery, I have been relentlessly training to access my soulscape. And in the second week, I managed it. Only to find myself in the same place, surrounded by the ever-present fire. The strange figure had been absent at the time leading me with more questions than I was comfortable with. But after the initial success, I was not capable of replicating it again, leaving me frustrated.
On the dawn of the third week, a change occurred. After the time spent in the fortress, it was finally time to leave. "I can't say that I'll miss this shit hole," Bjorn commented as we left the front gate. Hundreds of soldiers marched in front of us, while hundreds more waited to leave.
"I'm with you there. I much prefer the open sky to the small rooms of the fortress." Jurgen agreed.
"Oh, please. You only say that because you have to crouch every time you are inside. Those rooms were not designed with a giant in mind." Bjorn waved him off while strolling leisurely.
Alexander walked off to the side. Observing everything quietly, he had excluded himself from the group after his shameful display of running from the enemy. I still have not forgiven him for leaving me to die. Even if I understood why he did it. It did not change what he did. If there was one thing I could not stand, it was cowardice.
The following three days passed in a blur of marching and preparation. The roads were uneven and soaked from the previous rains, turning every step into a battle against mud that clung stubbornly to boots and slowed even the most disciplined formations. Yet the pace never faltered. Orders were given, and the legion obeyed. That was the way of things.
I kept mostly to myself.
Aeron had been unusually quiet.
For once, there were no lectures, no insults, no endless ramblings about magic. The silence was… unsettling. I had grown accustomed to his voice, irritating as it was. Its absence left too much room for my own thoughts.
Bjorn, on the other hand, was very much alive.
That alone should have been enough to bring some measure of relief, yet I found myself unable to fully process it. There had been a moment—clear as day—where I was certain he was gone. Seeing him now, walking beside me as if nothing had happened, felt almost unreal. I did not question it. Some things were better left alone.
By the third day, the distant outline of the city came into view.
Tall walls of reinforced stone stood against the horizon, banners fluttering lazily in the wind. Even from this distance, I could see the preparations being made. Soldiers lined the battlements, their armor catching the faint light of the overcast sky. Ballistae and siege towers were positioned along the walls, ready for the inevitable. They knew we were coming. Of course they did. An army of this size was not something you could hide.
"Captain Drakkus." The voice pulled me from my thoughts. I turned to see a runner standing at attention, his posture rigid despite the exhaustion evident in his eyes. "The Colonel requests your presence in the command tent." Of course he did. Suppressing a sigh, I gave a short nod and changed direction without another word.
—
The command tent was already occupied when I entered. Officers stood gathered around the central table, their attention fixed on the map hovering above it. The illusion depicted the city in precise detail, from its outer walls to the inner districts. Lines of approach had already been drawn, along with several marked positions that I assumed were weak points in their defenses.
Colonel Bargrave stood at the head of the table, his presence commanding as ever. His gaze shifted toward me the moment I stepped inside.
"Captain," he acknowledged, his tone even.
I returned the gesture with a salute before stepping forward. "You requested my presence, sir."
"I did." His eyes lingered on me for a moment longer than necessary, as though measuring something unseen. Then, without further delay, he gestured toward the map.
"We will begin our assault within the next day. The outer defenses are formidable, but not impenetrable. With sufficient pressure, they will break." His finger traced a path along the eastern wall before coming to rest on the inner keep. "However, I would prefer to avoid unnecessary losses."
That alone told me everything I needed to know.
"There is a possibility," he continued, "that the Count may be persuaded to surrender before the battle begins."
I remained silent, waiting. His gaze sharpened slightly. "You will deliver that possibility."
Of course, it would be me. I was beginning to notice a pattern, where I was assigned to all of the aptly named suicide missions. Instead of complaining about the unfairness of it all, I just grit my teeth and nodded along.
"You are to enter the city alone," Bargrave said, his voice carrying across the tent with quiet authority. "You will deliver a formal message to the Count, demanding his immediate surrender in the name of the Empire." A simple task, on the surface. Too simple.
"And if he refuses?" I asked, already knowing the answer.
A faint smile touched the Colonel's lips, though there was no warmth behind it. "Then you will remove him." The words were spoken as casually as one might comment on the weather. "By any means necessary," he added. "His death will fracture their command structure and accelerate the fall of the city. Without leadership, their resistance will crumble."
Silence settled over the tent. No one questioned the order. No one needed to. I held his gaze for a moment before nodding. "Understood."
"Good." Bargrave turned back to the map as if the matter had already been resolved. "You leave within the hour."
—
The air outside felt heavier than before. Thunder rumbled in the sky, the clouds beginning to darken, signalling the oncoming rain. A solo mission into an enemy stronghold, tasked with either negotiation or assassination. It was not the first time I had been given such an assignment, nor would it be the last. Yet something about this felt… different. Perhaps it was the timing. Perhaps it was the man giving the order. Or perhaps it was the lingering memory of that fire. I exhaled slowly, steadying my thoughts. There was no point in dwelling on it. A mission was a mission. And I had never failed one before. They gave me a single horse carrying the banner of the empire. A threefold spear in the form of a trident represents the three forces that made up the empire. With a heavy heart, I steered the horse towards the fortified city in a slow trot.
"Wait!" Alexander shouted from behind me, causing me to stop. Turning towards him in confusion, I watched him with a question in my gaze. "I just wanted to apologize. I… I would not have run if I had known you were still alive. I'm sorry, brother." The words sounded sincere, but I was beyond the point of caring.
"It's too late for apologies now, Alex." Turning away from him, I just continued forward. Not even deigning to look back
—
Colonel Bargrave was alone in his tent, after making sure that no one was close. He removed a device from his pocket and activated it. "Report," a disembodied voice spoke into his head.
"I have done as commanded. Drakkus will enter the city alone to deliver the m message. Some of our spies have already alerted the Count of a plot against his life. So Drakkus is sure to die this time." There was a slight tremor in his voice as he spoke with reverence and fanaticism.
"Good, do not fail me again, Colonel. Because next time I will take matters into my own hands. And you will not like the outcome." With that, the device cut off, leaving Bargrave alone, shivering in his tent. If someone had seen him, then they would have seen genuine fear on his face.