Chương 92: The War Council

We made camp on the ridge, about half a kilometer from the city walls. Saying it was a camp was a bit of an overexaggeration, to be honest. The knights pitched Count Vizgrad's pavilion and a handful of command tents, but the hundreds of adventurers didn't come equipped for organized encampment. Most just found a patch of grass to sit on, discussing the upcoming events, eyes fixed on Tidemark. The crimson banners were clearer from here. The sigil was a black crow, eating a trout.

It was a strong enough depiction that clearly showed Darius's intentions. Captain Vern posted sentries along the ridge and organized the knights into rotating patrols. Ser Syrak handled the logistics of feeding the host, granting free food and water to all adventurers, which mostly involved sending runners to buy out every bakery and butcher in the surrounding hamlets. Athos had gathered Second Wind's officers near a cluster of rocks on the eastern side of camp.

I could see Blue as she pointed at something on a hand-drawn map. Cyrus stood beside her, his Cinderbark Staff resting against his shoulder, listening to the Vice-Guild Master. We were settling in for what promised to be a tense wait when the first refugees appeared. They came from the west, initially. A group of maybe thirty people: civilians, most of them, with a handful of soldiers mixed in. They were mostly farmers, craftsmen, women and children.

They looked exhausted, their clothes were dusty, and their faces showed the weariness of running for most of the night. More followed from other directions over the next hour. Small groups, couples, families. Some had carts piled with belongings, while others carried nothing at all. The stories they told were worrying at the least. Darius's forces had seized the city during the night. The gates had been shut at dawn.

Anyone who'd been outside the walls when the coup happened found themselves locked out, and anyone who'd tried to leave afterward had been turned back by armed guards. Some escaped through gaps in the perimeter before Darius's men had fully locked the city down. It was among the third wave of arrivals, just past four in the afternoon, that I saw a familiar face. He was young, barely older than me, in robes that had once been pristine white but were now muddied and torn at the seams.

I recognized him immediately: the acolyte from the Temple of Ravenloft. The one who'd brought me to High Priest Aldric when I'd shown him the Count's Insignia. He recognized me, too.

"Adventurer!" He pushed through the crowd, stumbling on uneven ground before catching himself. His eyes were wide, frantic.

"Thank the gods. I need to speak with the Count, immediately."

"Slow down," I said, catching his arm.

"What happened in there?"

"Everything." He was shaking.

"Please. The Count needs to hear this." I looked at Kara, who'd appeared at my side. She nodded. I sent a quick message through the party chat, and within minutes, Lothras answered. He talked to Ser Syrak, and a moment later we were being ushered into the Count's pavilion. The tent was crowded. Count Vizgrad sat at the head of a campaign table, the Tidemark Trident resting against his chair. Captain Vern stood at his right, Ser Syrak at his left. Cathe occupied a chair near the entrance, a ledger open on her knee.

Our party filed in and took positions along the far wall. Nobody questioned our presence, which was a welcome feeling. We were neck-deep in the events, after all. The acolyte was given a seat and a cup of water, which he drained in three gulps before speaking.

"Your Lordship," he began, his voice still unsteady but already gaining strength.

"My name is Brother Aldwin. I serve at the Temple of Ravenloft under High Priest Aldric."

"Speak, Brother," the Count said.

"Tell us everything." Aldwin took a breath and began.

"It happened last night, a few hours after midnight. I was in the lower chapel, preparing the altar for the morning service, when I heard chanting. Not from inside the temple, from the streets. Dozens of voices, speaking in a language I've never heard before." He paused, collecting himself.

"Then the spell hit. A wave of… I don't know how to describe it. Darkness. Heavy, suffocating darkness. It washed over the city like fog rolling in from the sea, and wherever it touched, people collapsed. They fell asleep."

"The entire city?" Vern asked, disbelief in his voice.

"Nearly. The spell covered everything from the harbor to the upper tiers. Thousands of people, soldiers, citizens, everyone. Just… fell where they stood."

"But not everyone," the Count observed, his eyes sharp.

"No, Your Lordship. Some resisted. Those with higher willpower, stronger constitutions. Priests, mages, experienced knights. We didn't fall asleep, but the spell still hit us hard." Aldwin flexed his fingers as if remembering the feeling.

"I felt a severe weakness. My strength was cut in half, and I couldn't feel the flow of mana, either. I could barely stand, let alone fight."

"Who did this?"

"There were dozens of them," Aldwin said.

"Robed figures, faces hidden, channeling magic I've never seen in all my years of study. They moved through the streets alongside Darius's knights, rounding up anyone who'd resisted the sleep."

"Dark mages," Syrak said quietly.

"The organization Erdin and the adventurers warned us about."

"Rounded up where?" I asked.

"The Temple." Aldwin's voice cracked.

"They took everyone who was still conscious and locked them inside the Temple of Tidemark. High Priest Aldric, Court Mage Elindra and her students, loyal knights, priests, soldiers. Even some civilians who'd resisted. Hundreds of people, all trapped inside." The Count's hand tightened on the arm of his chair.

"Elindra. Aldric. Both of them?"

"Both, Your Lordship. And they're sealed in by more than just guards." Aldwin leaned forward.

"The dark mages placed something in the Church Square. A crystal of some kind. It's small and radiating dark energy. It does three things that I was able to identify." He held up one finger.

"First, it seals the temple doors. No physical force can open them while the crystal stands. Only dark magic can interact with it." A second finger.

"Second, it creates a field around itself, maybe four hundred meters in every direction, where neither physical nor magical force works." He paused.

"Except dark magic. The mages themselves can still use their spells within the field." A third finger.

"Third, it empowers anyone wielding dark magic. Within that radius, the dark mages are especially powerful." The pavilion was silent for a long moment.

"How do you know all this?" Lothras asked, his tone skeptical but not unkind.

"Because I almost didn't escape." Aldwin's hands were trembling again.

"I was in the lower chapel when they came. I ran out and hid in a storage building while they dragged the other priests back into the temple. I saw the crystal being placed, and I used an identification scroll on it as soon as I had the chance, then ran for my life."

"What about Darius's military strength?" The Count asked.

"I need to know about all the knights and soldiers, their numbers and stockpiles."

"I cannot say with certainty," Aldwin shook his head.

"He has hundreds of men, and a great number of knights as well, not to mention the Dark Mages. But Your Lordship, I don't believe all of them serve willingly. Many of the soldiers looked… wrong. Glazed eyes, jagged movements, they felt like puppets. And some of the knights, I recognized men who'd been loyal to you for years. I think the dark mages have ways of compelling people. Brainwashing, coercion, or a combination of both."

"If the dark mages are removed from the equation," Syrak said slowly, "a significant portion of those forces might turn."

"That is my belief as well," Aldwin agreed.

"Is there anything else?" the Count asked, his voice carefully controlled. Aldwin swallowed.

"Yes, Your Lordship. Darius sent a messenger out before the gates closed this morning. The message was intended for you." He reached into his robe and produced a crumpled piece of parchment.

"I intercepted it from the messenger's body. One of the dark mages got carried away, and the poor man died of his wounds a hundred meters outside of the city." The Count took the parchment and read it aloud.

"Uncle. The Seastone Throne is mine by right and by force. Surrender the Trident, and I will show mercy to those who serve you. Refuse, and blood will flow. You have until dawn." He set the parchment down.

"Dawn," Cathe said quietly.

"That gives us less than twelve hours." It was 7 pm according to my system. She was right. The war council began in a hurry. Chairs were brought in. Maps were spread across the table. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

"Surrendering the Trident is not an option," Syrak said first.

"If Darius holds both the throne and the weapon, his claim becomes legitimate in the eyes of every lord and institution in the kingdom. There would be no recovering from that."

"But that means he will execute everyone in the Temple," the Count said with a burdened expression.

"My Lord," I said, "he very well might just do that regardless. I don't think you should give credit to his words." No one argued.

"Then we need to remove his leverage," Lothras said.

"The prisoners. If we free them, Darius loses his bargaining chip. And if brother Aldwin is right about the brainwashed soldiers, freeing the mages and knights in the temple could tip the scales in our favor."

"Agreed," Vern nodded.

"The problem is the crystal. Four hundred meters of damage nullification makes a frontal assault pointless. We'd march up to the Church Square and be unable to hurt anyone while the dark mages cut us down."

"We could try to overwhelm them with numbers," Syrak suggested.

"Hundreds of adventurers charging the square. Even if they can't deal damage, the chaos alone might—""Would get people killed for nothing," Athos interrupted.

"The mages can still deal damage inside the field. We'd be lambs to the slaughter." The table went quiet. Everyone stared at the map, at the rough circle Aldwin had drawn around the Church Square, marking the crystal's area of effect. Four hundred meters. A radius that covered most of the temple district and a good chunk of the surrounding blocks. Anything within that circle was a no-damage zone, except for the dark mages who could operate freely. I was staring at the circle when the idea formed.

"What if we don't go inside the field?" Every head turned to me.

"The crystal nullifies damage in a four-hundred-meter radius," I continued, thinking out loud.

"But what if someone hits it from outside that radius?" Vern frowned.

"The Church Square is in the center of the temple district. To shoot from outside the nullification zone, you'd need to hit a target from over four hundred meters away. That's impossible for any weapon I know of."

"It's not impossible for me," I said. The tent fell silent.

"That is a feat not even Calian could pull off," the Count said.

"And he is by far the best ranger in the county."

"And you'd only have one shot before getting pinned down by the mages," Athos added.

"One shot is all I need." The Count leaned forward.

"You believe you can hit a target at that distance?" I met his gaze.

"I know I can." It would be the longest shot I'd ever attempted in the game yet, and probably the most important. But archery wasn't something I lacked confidence in.

"Assuming the crystal shatters," Vern said, "the damage nullification drops and the temple doors unseal. But someone still needs to physically open those doors. And the guards around the crystal won't just disappear."

"That's where we come in," Athos said, looking at Kara. Something unspoken passed between them. She nodded.

"The moment Orion shatters the crystal, Kara and I will already be in position near the temple," Athos explained.

"Kara uses Abstract World Symphony to disorient the guards. We'll have about 8 seconds. While they're confused, I use Comet to close the distance and open the doors."

"The guards will recover," Vern pointed out.

"Eight seconds isn't much."

"It's enough to get the doors open," Athos said calmly.

"After that… yeah. They'll probably kill us." He said it matter-of-factly, without much bravado. Just a statement of likelihood.

"We're adventurers," Kara said.

"We resurrect. The knights and mages locked inside that temple don't. We'll lose some experience. Maybe an item or two." She shrugged.

"It's worth it." I looked at both of them. The casual acceptance of what they were volunteering for hit harder than it should have. This was a game. Death was temporary. But standing there, hearing two people I'd fought beside for days calmly discuss their own demise as a tactical calculation, it felt heavy.

"And while the infiltration team is inside," Lothras said, steering the conversation forward, "the main force assaults the city."

"As a diversion," the Count clarified.

"I want this made clear to every knight and adventurer under my command. We are not invaders. The people of Tidemark are our people. We engage Darius's forces at the gates to draw attention away from the temple. Everyone should yearn to keep casualties to a minimum."

"That might be difficult once the fighting starts," Syrak said.

"Difficult, but necessary." The Count's voice left no room for negotiation.

"Many of those soldiers are brainwashed. They're victims, not enemies. We subdue where we can, and we fight only when we must." Vern nodded, though his expression suggested he understood how messy that distinction would become in practice.

"So," I said, laying it out.

"The three of us sneak into the city. We use the eastern wall, the same route Kara and I did before. We get near the temple, and I find a vantage point outside the nullification zone. When we're in position, I send a mark to Lothras. That's the Count's signal to begin the assault."

"The assault draws Darius's attention to the gates," Athos continued.

"While his forces are focused there, Orion takes the shot. The crystal shatters, and Kara and I open the doors. The prisoners flood out, and suddenly Darius has a hundred angry knights, mages, and priests at his back."

"And Lothras?" Kara asked.

"I stay with the assault force," the Paladin said without hesitation.

"I'm no use in a covert operation, and this way you can notify me when to advance. Besides, I could do with a good skirmish already." Athos caught his eye and held it for a moment, and when Lothras nodded, Athos returned it. Somewhere along the way, those two had stopped being rivals.

"My subordinates will coordinate Second Wind from the front line," Athos added.

"Cyrus and Blue can handle the guild's tactical operations during the assault. They're more than capable." The Count stood, looking at each of us in turn.

"This plan has a hundred ways to fail," he said.

"But it's the best we have. Make your preparations. We move after sunset." Before we filed out, Cathe stopped Aldwin.

"Brother," she said, and I could hear the effort it took to keep her voice level.

"Did you see a knight in the city? Scuffed beard, scar along his jaw. His name is Erdin." Aldwin shook his head slowly.

"I'm sorry, my lady. I didn't see him. There was so much chaos… he could be anywhere. Among the detained, among the sleeping, or…" He didn't finish the sentence. Cathe's composure held, but barely. She nodded once, turned, and walked out of the pavilion. The next two hours were spent in preparation. Word of the plan spread through the camp in fragments.

The full details were kept to the command group, but the broad strokes were enough: an assault on the gates at dusk, coordinated with a special operation inside the city. Players responded with the energy of people who'd been waiting all afternoon for something to do. Equipment was checked, rechecked, and checked again. Potions were distributed. Formations were discussed, debated, and argued over. Athos called a meeting with Second Wind's officers.

I watched from a distance as Blue laid out the guild's deployment plan, with Cyrus beside her, offering quiet suggestions that Blue incorporated without hesitation. They work well together. Lothras found me near the eastern edge of camp, testing the Emberwood Longbow's draw weight for the hundredth time.

"You're sure about this?" he asked.

"About the shot? Yes."

"About all of it." I thought about the crystal sitting in the Church Square. About the hundreds of people trapped behind sealed doors. About Darius's ultimatum and the ticking clock.

"It's our best option," I said.

"I wouldn't trust Calian or Darius, whatever they're saying." He nodded, apparently satisfied with that answer.

"For what it's worth, if anyone in this army can make a shot like that, it's you." Coming from Lothras, that was practically a love letter. Familiar faces kept appearing through the crowd as the afternoon wore on. Stone and Sylph arrived together, both wearing new equipment I hadn't seen before. Stone clapped me on the shoulder hard enough to make me stumble.

"Heard you're doing something stupid and heroic," he said.

"Wouldn't miss it."

"We're at the front line with that Paladin, Lothras," Sylph added.

"He briefed us. Give us the signal when you're ready." El Verdugo appeared next, the Battleaxe of Ur'Ka gleaming on his back, trailed by the rest of Los Asesinos. I'm glad he's still finding use for that weapon. He and the rest of the group were already over level 20, so this was proof that the first weapon piece I'd gotten was something special. Rafael's armor looked even more impressive than the last time I'd seen it, the golden accents practically glowing in the fading light.

"Hermano!" Verdugo bellowed, arms spread wide.

"It's so good to see you! Came to see the biggest party in Tidemark, did you?"

"Wouldn't miss it," I grinned. He didn't know the details, that I was one of the reasons the whole thing was happening in the first place. I'll fill him in after.

"We will hold the line with the knights," Rafael said, tapping his shield.

"Nothing is getting past this." I believed him. By the time the sun began its descent toward the sea, the camp had transformed from a disorganized sprawl into something resembling an actual military force. A thousand adventurers and twenty-eight loyal knights, standing on a ridge overlooking the city that had been stolen from their Count. Athos, Kara, and I gathered our gear.

The plan was simple: move east, circle around to the old mill near the eastern wall, use Silk Shot to scale the fortifications the same way Kara and I had done before, then navigate the old quarter toward the temple district.

"Ready?" Athos asked, tightening the straps on his sword.

"Ready," Kara said. I looked back at the camp, at the sea of players preparing for battle, at Lothras standing among them with his shield on his arm and his sword drawn, at the Count holding the Trident like a man who intended to use it.

"Ready." We turned and began making our way down the eastern slope, toward the city. Behind us, the host started to move into formation, six hundred strong, banners catching the wind. We hadn't taken fifty steps when Kara stopped.

"Orion. Look." I turned toward the city. On the walls of Tidemark, silhouettes had appeared. Fourteen figures, evenly spaced along the battlements, their robes dark against the sunset sky. Dark mages. They began to chant. Even from this distance, I felt a low vibration in the air. The sound of their chanting carried across the plains like growling thunder, growing louder with each passing second.

Fourteen rifts tore into existence across the plain between us and the city, each one a jagged wound in reality, edges crackling with dark energy. They materialized in a loose arc, covering the entire approach to Tidemark's main gate. For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then monstrous creatures started crawling out of the holes. They poured from the rifts like water from a broken dam.

Twisted, malformed things: humanoid shapes with too many limbs, spectral hounds trailing black smoke, armored constructs that moved with jerky, puppet-like motion. Dozens at first, then hundreds, flooding the plain in a tide of darkness. I used Mark of the Eagle just to get some information about the nearest one. Abyssal Thrall Level 17 Behind me, the camp erupted into chaos.

"To arms!" Captain Vern's voice cut through the noise like a blade.

"All forces, form defensive lines! Protect the Count!" Hundreds of adventurers scrambled into action. Swords were drawn, staves were raised, arrows were nocked. The knights formed a wall around the Count's position, shields interlocking, the Trident's blue light flaring in response to the dark energy flooding the plain. Athos grabbed my arm.

"Go," he said.

"This doesn't change the plan. If anything, it makes the crystal more important. We take it out, we have reinforcements." He was right.

"Kara!" I called. She was already moving, lute in hand, eyes locked on the eastern slope.

"Way ahead of you!" The three of us broke east, sprinting along the ridge as the first wave of Abyssal creatures crashed into the Count's lines behind us. The battle for Tidemark had begun.