Mist wrapped around the Sylvan Bastion, thick and cold, blurring the green glow of the torches. The hall smelled of resin and sap, its silence broken by the hiss of flames and a dry crackle on the floor. Ardyn, tense by the carved window, tapped the damp frame, his green eyes searching for a golden glint in the dark.
"What the hell was that?" he muttered, his voice sharp as a whip. He didn't turn, but his fingers froze, curling against the wood.
Darion Veltharis, a few steps away, shifted his stance. The creak of his black armor echoed low. "I don't know, my lord," he said, his tone carved from stone, each word deliberate. "But it's not natural. Could be a sign."
"A sign?" Ardyn spun, his dry laugh bouncing off the logs like shattered glass. "From Renn and his crazy nuns? So soon after his little mermaid sang me a lullaby?" He jabbed a finger toward the window, though his gaze flickered for a split second. "She doesn't have the brains for this, Darion. It's a trick, a damn game to get under my skin."
Eryndor, near the splintered table, gripped his staff with trembling fingers. His tattered cloak dripped mud. "My lord…" His voice was a broken whisper, barely audible over the torches' hiss. "The eastern patrols… before I left, they mentioned a golden glow in the mist, near the river. They thought it was a reflection, but…" He swallowed hard, his eyes darting to the window. "What if they're closer than we think?"
Ardyn shot him a glare, a flash of contempt crossing his eyes like lightning. "Your fairy tales again, Eryndor?" He took a step toward him, boots thumping the wet wood. "Damn it, move! Bring every patrol back. Lock the wall's gates and post lookouts on every corner. I want eyes everywhere. If that idiot wants to play, he'll crash into solid timber."
Eryndor bowed his head, his staff tapping the floor with a faint echo as he hurried to the door. "Yes, my lord. Right away," he stammered, his figure swallowed by the shadows.
Darion stepped forward, his hand resting on his sword's hilt with a calm that hid a razor's edge. "Archers to the towers, my lord," he said, his voice steady but tinged with caution. "If it's Renn, he won't come straight on. That siren… it's not just noise. They're testing us."
Ardyn snorted, jerking back to the window. "Let them test whatever they want. My walls are strong, my auto-towers don't miss." A third crack, deeper, shook the floor, and a low song tore through the mist—a guttural wail, like the forest's warning. The torches flickered, and Ardyn frowned, his breath catching for a moment. "That damn siren again," he growled, grinding his teeth. "What the hell's she planning?"
Darion moved closer, his eyes fixed on the mist. "Don't underestimate those women, my lord. Renn might be a loudmouth in his letters, but what I saw today… it's no fluke. I'll prep the defenses in case something bigger's coming."
Ardyn glanced at him, his sharp laugh less certain. "Bigger? That moron with his weird nuns?" He tapped the frame, thoughtful, knuckles white. "He's got strength, sure, but no brains. His women are a lucky shot, Darion. Numbers against numbers, I crush him." He straightened, his voice hardening. "Do it. But don't make me look like a paranoid fool over a song and a couple of snapped trees."
The song grew, deep and pulsing, seeping into their nerves. The mist's shadows seemed to shift, and Ardyn gripped the frame until the wood groaned, his gaze lost on an invisible enemy.
A kilometer from the Bastion, the mist blanketed the forest, the damp ground muffling the steps of three figures. Valka, the Siren Valkyrie, led with calm, her white armor glinting in the gloom, her spear steady but alive. Melisa, to her left, spun a dagger with a low chuckle. To her right, a silent Templar in a sealed helm moved forward, her spear ready.
Valka paused behind an oak, raising a hand. Her ice-blue eyes pierced the mist, and a low hum rose from her throat, shaking the leaves. Her Valkyrie Song roared, cracking the ground and weaving a green flash through the trees. Ardyn's scouts hesitated, their torches wavering.
Melisa laughed, flicking her dagger. The blade sank into an elf scout's throat, dropping him without a sound. "A hymn for my lord," she sang, winking at Valka as she drew another dagger. "Let Ardyn hear it and squirm on his throne."
The Templar advanced, her spear piercing a kobold's chest before it could scream. She rummaged through the body and pulled out a pale crystal, pulsing like a sick heart. "Fifty more for his glory," she said behind the helm, handing it to Valka.
Valka tucked it away with a slow gesture. "Let them hear their end," she whispered, her tone resonating with the forest. "Let them fear his wrath. My lord has decreed it." The song returned, stronger, reaching the Bastion.
Melisa wiped her dagger on the kobold's cloak, grinning. "Think they're shaking yet, Val? Bet Darion's praying under that armor of his."
"Fear is noise," Valka replied, her voice deep. "His will is all. My song is his shadow, and the shadow breaks them." She turned, raising her hand. "We return. The forest has spoken."
The Templar adjusted her helm, runes catching the dim light. "May the next strike be the last," she murmured, following.
The three figures vanished into the mist, leaving blood and a vibrant echo.
The amber crystal's golden light bathed the Sanctuary of Faith, tinting the marble walls with a warm glow. The altar's chill bit Renn's fingertips as he checked his bracer, its blue hologram flickering: [System: Resources: 157,450 Sacred Crystals, 0 Epic Materials]. He grunted, scratching his neck.
"Always short. Damn it," he muttered, shaking his head.
Lilith, lounging against the altar, swung a leg, her black wings humming. She twirled a lock of hair and tilted her head, her eyes gleaming with mischief.
"We could put on a show, my lord," she said, her voice a warm purr. "Something with blood and fire to make even the shadows quake." She winked, her fangs flashing.
Renn snorted, giving her a light nudge that drew a crystalline giggle.
"Save your fireworks, Lilith," he shot back, though a spark of amusement crossed his eyes. "First, I want Ardyn to squirm nice and slow."
He turned to Seraphina, seated on a bench, her white robes glowing. Her golden eyes watched him with sharp calm, one brow rising as she noticed Lilith still chuckling.
A crack broke the moment. Valka entered, her white armor dripping mist. Melisa and the gray-cloaked Templar followed. Valka stopped before the altar, bowing her head.
"The forest carries your echo, my lord," she said, her voice resonating. "Ardyn trembles. His scouts fell, and my song reached them."
Renn raised a brow, a crooked smile creeping up.
"Good work," he growled, smacking the altar. "Keep him sleepless. Let him feel every shadow we send."
Melisa, leaning against a pillar, spun her dagger and shot him a playful look.
"Left him a couple of elves singing red, my lord," she said, winking. "Not as sweet as Valka's choir, but enough to make Ardyn hide under his bed."
She let out a low laugh, giving her spear a playful tap. Valka huffed softly, almost a chuckle, and Melisa stuck out her tongue.
Lilith leaned closer to Renn, her wing brushing his arm.
"What if we hit now, my lord?" she whispered, her breath warm. "A quick strike, straight to his bastion. Turn him to dust before he blinks." Her voice dropped, teasing. "We don't leave our home open to his filthy claws."
Seraphina stood, her ethereal cloak rippling. She crossed her arms, her voice cold as arctic wind.
"Lilith's right, my lord," she said, her golden eyes locking onto him. "Defense is a gamble. If Ardyn strikes back, the Sanctuary won't hold a long siege. A full hit, now, crushes him before he rallies."
A rustle of fabric cut in. Nyra entered, her black habit gliding over the marble. She paused near the altar, her smile warm but sharp, aimed at Renn.
"My sisters speak true, my holy lord," she said, her voice velvet with a cutting edge. "Ardyn's a snake that'll bite if you give him a breath. Hit him with everything. Leave Eryn and a couple of our little ones here." She leaned in, her purple eyes glinting. "Cut off his head, and let his venom die."
Renn scratched his chin, grunting as he eyed each one. They all gazed at him with adoration and trust.
"Ardyn won't see it coming," he muttered, tapping the altar. "His towers won't save him if we catch him off guard. He thinks I'm a fool with fanatics." He looked at Seraphina, then Lilith. "A full strike, then? What if he's got a trap waiting? He's got numbers."
Seraphina stepped forward, her tone precise.
"He won't, my lord. He underestimates your mind. He knows we're strong, but he thinks it's just chaos. His towers are his pride, but not against a fast hit."
Lilith laughed, pressing against Renn, her wing humming.
"And if he tries something, my lord, I'll make him trip over his own elves," she said, flashing her fangs. "We don't leave our home open. We take it all, and it'll be a show worthy of you."
Melisa whistled low, aiming her dagger at Lilith in jest.
"Watch it, wings, your show'll have us cleaning blood for a week," she teased, turning to Renn. "But I'm with them, my lord. Let's go crush him."
Nyra brushed the altar, her voice a seductive whisper.
"My lord fears no traps," she said. "Ardyn's a child playing king. His bastion's strong, but his mind's weak. Strike, and let his blood be your trophy."
Renn smacked the altar, the echo ringing.
"Done," he said, his voice rough. "We hit at dawn. Everything. Eryn stays with Lin and another. The rest, with me. Let Ardyn learn what happens when he underestimates me."
Valka bowed her head, her voice vibrating.
"Your will is my song, my lord. Let it echo in his fall."
Melisa spun her spear, grinning.
"My blade's ready for your hymns, my lord. Let's teach him a lesson."
Seraphina nodded, a cold glint in her eyes.
"For you, my lord. Let his mistake be his grave."
Lilith draped herself on his arm, her wings humming.
"This is gonna be divine, my lord," she said, winking. "Stay close—I wanna see you shine."
Nyra stepped back, her smile sharp.
"For the holy lord, let his wrath be our light. Ardyn falls before you."
Renn snorted, amused, but his gaze hardened.
"Let him tremble," he growled. "We move at dawn."
The Sylvan Bastion lay silent, the air thick with moss and burnt resin. Ardyn paced before the throne, his boots thumping the damp wood, his cloak billowing behind. On the wall, Darion barked orders to the archers. Eryndor, by the table, clutched his staff, tense under the flickering light.
A crack shattered the quiet. An archer burst in, his muddy cloak dripping. He bowed, his voice firm but urgent.
"My lord, patrols are in. Gates locked." He swallowed, extending a blood-crusted glove. In his palm, a dented piece of armor gleamed. "One scout came back… with this. Throat slit."
Ardyn snatched the metal, reading the etched words: "The faith watches." His jaw tightened, a growl rising.
"The faith?" he muttered, shaking with rage. "That moron thinks he's a god with his lunatic nuns?" He hurled the fragment at the table with a clang. "Let him come if he's got the guts! My towers'll turn him to mush!"
Eryndor stepped back, his voice low, fearful.
"My lord… the song they heard… it sounded like the siren's. Could be—"
"Enough, Eryndor!" Ardyn spun, his laugh cutting. "The siren? What's next, the succubus dancing on my roof?" He stalked closer, pointing. "It's a trick. A game from that loser. He's got strong women, but no brains."
Eryndor dropped his gaze, silent. The quiet returned until Darion strode in, removing his helm, his weathered face cautious.
"The song was the siren's, my lord," he said, resting a hand on his sword. "They killed the scouts and vanished. No attack, but…" He paused. "Walls are ready. Archers in every tower, lookouts in every shadow. If they come, they don't pass without bleeding."
Ardyn met his eyes, his fury cooling to cold calculation. He leaned against the throne, drumming his fingers.
"If they come?" He scoffed, a crooked smile forming. "Renn hasn't got the brains for that, Darion. His nuns are luck, not a plan." He crossed his arms. "Numbers against numbers, I crush him. My towers don't fall."
Darion bowed his head, his fingers tightening on his sword.
"Done, my lord," he replied. "But don't let your guard down. Those women… they don't fight like bandits. There's something else there."
Ardyn let out a dry laugh, striding to the window where the forest loomed black under the moon.
"Something else? A genius behind that idiot?" He turned, his voice hard. "I doubt it. Let them try whatever. I'm waiting right here, and my towers'll teach them manners."
The wind howled, slipping through the cracks with a whistle. Darion and Eryndor exchanged a brief glance before silence settled again.
Dawn painted the forest a pale gray, the mist clinging to the trees like a torn veil. Renn marched ahead, his cloak snapping against the cold, his bracer humming faintly on his wrist. Behind him, the Templars of the Sacred Order formed a lethal semicircle: Lilith to his right, wings humming with a white glow, her light laugh cutting the air; Seraphina to his left, white robes gleaming like a beacon, her steps firm; Valka behind, spear ready, her enigmatic presence filling the silence; Nyra flanking, black habit whispering with deadly grace; Melisa spinning her spear with a crooked grin; and the rest—Astrid, Vera, Sigrid, Thalia, Selene—following in a silent line, their weapons glinting in the dim light. Eryn, Lin, and a new Templar stayed at the Sanctuary, guarding the sacred.
The Sylvan Bastion emerged through the haze, its wall of living logs pulsing with glowing sap, six auto-towers spinning with red crystal eyes scanning the mist. Renn halted, raising a fist, and the Templars froze as one. "Let them see their end," he growled, his rough voice slicing the air. "This is mine."
Valka stepped forward, her white armor creaking softly. She spun her spear with fluid grace and hurled it with a roar, the weapon whistling like a comet. The tip sank into the wall's main gate, a massive slab of logs thick as houses. The impact thundered, splintering the wood in a burst of sap and shards that rained on the kobolds beyond. The gate collapsed with a groan, opening a smoking breach as mist poured in like a river.
Lilith laughed, a crystalline sound dancing in the air, and raised her hands with a playful twirl. Spectral shadows poured from her fingers, weaving a swarm of hooded nuns rushing through the mist. The towers' crystal eyes spun wildly, firing enchanted arrows that vanished into nothing. But Lilith didn't stop: she snapped her fingers, and an invisible pulse swept the field. Hundreds of elves and kobolds on the wall turned on each other, eyes glassy as swords and claws tore into allies, a bloody frenzy staining the mud red. "Let's dance, my lord!" she sang, winking at Renn.
Seraphina advanced slowly, her robes rippling as if the wind dared not touch her. "Lux peccatorum frangit," she whispered in Latin, her voice cold as ice. She raised a hand, and a white bolt fell from the sky, shattering the first tower in a rain of pulverized wood and crystal. "Umbrae cedant," she continued, and another bolt split the second tower, the boom drowning the archers' screams. With each phrase—"Ignis purgat," "Fides vincit," "Tenebras expello," "Domine meus regit"—four more bolts fell, each erasing a tower in a blinding flash. Debris flew, and smoke rose like a torn veil, leaving the wall bare under her golden gaze. "For you, my lord," she said, her voice cutting the silence that followed.
Nyra glided through the chaos, her black habit blending with the mist. Her fingers brushed the air, and a wall of shadows rose, cloaking the Templars in a dark veil that hid them from surviving archers. "Oh, holy Lord," she whispered, her seductive tone wrapping like velvet, "let your wrath be our spear." The shadows curved, deflecting a hail of arrows that fell harmlessly to the ground.
Melisa charged through the breach, her spear spinning in a golden arc. A kobold squad raised shields, but she tore through them like paper, bodies flying in pieces as she laughed. "For my lord!" she shouted, hurling a dagger that sank into the throat of an elf mage mid-spell. Astrid and Vera followed, their spears carving a bloody path through a horde of kobold warriors, each strike ripping limbs and shattering armor. Sigrid and Thalia flanked, their maces crushing the skulls of elf archers trying to regroup, while Selene, from the mist, fired arrows that pierced two or three foes at once, bodies dropping like broken puppets.
Hundreds of kobolds and elves—warriors with jagged swords, mages hurling fireballs, archers shooting from above—rushed the Templars, but they were like waves breaking on a cliff. Astrid split a war cart with one blow, Vera tore a wall pillar that crushed a dozen foes, Sigrid hurled a mage into his own allies, and Thalia stomped, opening a crack that swallowed a group of archers. Melisa danced among them, her spear a golden blur leaving a trail of mangled bodies.
Inside the Bastion, Ardyn stormed onto the central tower's balcony, his cloak whipping as he stared at the chaos. "What the hell?" he muttered, his voice shaking. "Those nuns shouldn't…" Archers fired blindly, their arrows deflected by Nyra's shadows or lost in Lilith's illusions, while kobolds in the courtyard ran mad, tearing into each other under Lilith's spell.
Darion raced to his side, sword drawn. "My lord, it's a full assault!" he shouted, his tone sharp. "No decoy! They're hitting us now!"
Ardyn stared, his face twisting. "Full? That idiot?" He scoffed, but his hands shook on the railing. "To the walls! Get the mages to throw everything! We don't fall to lucky lunatics!"
Renn advanced behind Nyra's veil, his eyes locked on the smoking breach. The Templars stormed in like a hurricane, their weapons flashing through the mist. Melisa leaped onto a giant kobold, driving her spear into its chest and toppling it with a crash that shook the ground. Astrid and Vera flanked the breach, their spears mowing down a wave of elf warriors trying to block the way, bodies piling like firewood.
Renn planted himself in the shattered entrance, his cloak billowing in the dawn light, and raised his voice over the chaos. "Ardyn!" he roared, his tone thundering. "Your time's up!" The Templars lined up around him, a wall of death and devotion, their eyes blazing with faith that saw him as a god.
From the balcony, Ardyn clenched his fists, his gaze crashing into Renn's. "Damn you!" he screamed, his voice cracking. "You can't!" A mage beside him conjured a fireball, but Selene dropped him with an arrow before he finished, the sphere bursting harmlessly in the air.
The Templars pressed forward, unstoppable, but a deep roar echoed from within the Bastion. The ground quaked, and a colossal shadow rose behind the broken wall: a figure of living wood, its crystal eyes glowing like embers, moving with a creak that sent kobolds scrambling. Ardyn laughed from the balcony, his voice now sharp with a glimmer of hope. "Not so fast, you idiot!" he shouted. "This isn't over yet!"
Renn narrowed his eyes, his bracer flashing as the Templars readied, weapons poised. The battle for the wall was won, but the Bastion's heart roared with a threat still half-hidden.