Indeed, the treasure Knight Shtad had discovered in the desert was a Citadel.
Not the Tomb of Ariel itself, of course — no scout had managed to get anywhere near the black pyramid, yet. It just always loomed far in the distance, never getting closer, like an ominous mirage.
But he did find a Citadel.
At this point, both Valor and Song were scouting the outer reaches of the desert in search of a suitable position to establish a base camp. Once they found one, numerous soldiers would be brought there through the corresponding Nightmare Gates, and the expeditions toward the pyramid would be launched.
However, a Citadel had the potential to drastically change the balance of power between the two great clans in their pursuit of the Demon’s tomb.
The clan that possessed one would hold an overwhelming advantage. The clan that did not would fall behind before the race even started.
A Citadel was not only better fortified and safer than a makeshift stronghold. Connected to the waking world by a Gateway, it would make it much easier to ferry Awakened into the Dream Realm, transport supplies, and establish logistical chains.
Some regions of the Dream Realm held only one Citadel, while some held many. At this point, it was unknown if Knight Shtad’s discovery was the only Citadel in the white desert, except for the Tomb of Ariel itself, but even if Song were to eventually discover a second one, the delay would put them at a great disadvantage.
So, needless to say, taking the Citadel was of paramount importance.
However… it was guarded by a fearsome Nightmare Creature.
More than that, even though Valor put a lot of effort into keeping Shtad’s prize a secret, there was no guarantee that Song would not try to take it by force eventually.
So, Warren and his people were dispatched into the desert as the first wave of reinforcements. Their task was to assist the fearsome Knight in conquering the Citadel and lay the groundwork for the arrival of further forces.
Of course, there was a problem with that plan.
The fact that an insidious creature had long taken the place of Squire Warren, and came to the desert in his place.
“Valor!”
Mordret let out a fierce battle cry as he led his people into the tide of Nightmare Creatures.
The Citadel was right in front of them.
It was not a fortress, nor was it a pyramid built of black stone. In fact, it was not a man-made structure at all.
Instead, it was a gargantuan black skull that towered above the white dunes, staring at the azure sky with the dark pits of its empty eye sockets.
There were three of them — two where a human’s eyes would be, and the third one above them, right in the middle of the skull’s vast forehead.
Each of the empty eye sockets was the side of a stadium, and currently, a flood of revolting Nightmare Creatures was flowing out of them onto the white sand.
“Hold fast!”
Roaring such stupid things, Mordret plunged into the mass of abominations. His sword rose and fell, cutting them down, and his shield rang under a barrage of attacks.
‘How… tedious.’
He felt slightly frustrated by the need to hold himself back. Mordret could not unleash his power as a Master, but even more disheartening than that, he had to imitate the combat skills of the long-dead Warren.
As a retainer of the great clan Valor, Warren had been at the pinnacle of what Awakened warriors strived to be. And yet, to Mordret, that level of skill was dull and suffocating.
Limiting himself to such a mediocre level of mastery was harder than surviving in the tide of Nightmare Creatures.
He endured the frustrating limitations and fought, struggling to keep his body intact. Sadly, Warren had been a heroic type, as well, so to play his role faithfully, Mordret had to act accordingly.
He did not hesitate to put himself in danger’s way to protect his soldiers, risking life and limb to make sure that all of his companions survived.
“Stay strong, Varo! Agathe, back! Lean on me, Crass!”
His companions seemed empowered with him by their side.
It was strange.
Mordret was leading soldiers of Valor into battle, all of them connected by a shared sense of duty, belonging, and devotion. They spilled the blood of Nightmare Creatures and fought with valiant resolve, refusing to give ground.
Wasn’t that what he was supposed to become, if things had been different? Wasn’t leading the brave warriors of Valor the fate that had been stolen from him?
‘Ah. Such irony.’
After an eternity of blood and agonizing heat… the battle was over.
The Nightmare Creatures were dead. The Tyrant that had made the Citadel its lair had been slain by Knight Shtad himself. The Awakened — both those brought to the desert by Mordret and those that belonged to Shtad’s personal elite unit — were mostly alive, and victorious.
They had won.
Now, all they had to do was reap the spoils of their triumph.
The crowd of mighty Awakened warriors cleaned their blades and dove into the cool darkness of the ancient skull. They carefully made their way to the heart of the Citadel, where, in a vast chamber of black bone, the Gateway awaited to be activated.
Knight Shtad was the first to see it. Bright sunlight spilled through a jagged crack in the chamber’s roof, and, thrust into the bone floor, a gargantuan arrowhead of lustrous steel shone with reflected radiance.
A triumphant smile appeared on the Knight’s face.
Turning around, he placed his heavy hand on Mordret’s shoulder.
“You did well, Warren. Glory and valor!”
Mordret smiled pleasantly.
Everything was going according to plan. Now, his task was simple — remain in the good graces of Sir Shtad, anchor himself to the Gateway, return to the waking world, and inform Clan Song about the location of the Citadel.
Then, when Valor properly established themselves here and concentrated their forces in one place, he would help Seishan and the rest stage an unexpected attack and rip the Citadel from his clan’s hands while decimating its defenders.
…However, that was Clan Song’s plan.
Mordret, on the other hand, had his own designs.
In his opinion, the emissaries of the Queen of Worms had allowed themselves to commit a grave sin. They had grown arrogant.
Drunk on the succession of easy victories and their outward superiority in terms of numbers, they had foolishly come to underestimate his family.
Wasn’t it the epitome of being misguided? To look down on the descendants of War while waging one…
Seishan and Beastmaster might have been blinded by the feeling of complacency his sister had so masterfully lured them into, but Mordret knew better. It didn’t matter who had reaped a few victories at the start… all that mattered was who would be left standing at the finish.
Clan Song seemed to be holding an advantage for now, but the walls of the trap were already closing in around them. Mordret did not know what the trap was, but he did know one thing — the more time Morgan was given, the more devastating her retaliation would be.
So, to destroy her plans, he had to throw the cadence of this conflict into utter chaos.
…Looking at Knight Shtad with a pleasant smile, Mordret nodded.
“Glory and valor!”
With that, he plunged his sword into the Ascended warrior’s neck.
Shtad’s eyes widened, and, as blood poured out of his mouth, Mordret moved his blade sideways, almost decapitating the Ascended. Just like that, the fearsome Knight of Valor died, killed by the treacherous attack of an ally.
All around him, the Awakened froze, paralyzed by shock.
Crass shivered.
“Wha… Warren, what…”
Ripping his sword out of Shtad’s neck, Mordret delivered a downward cut in one swift, fluid motion. The blade fell on Crass’s head, splitting his skull and obliterating his face. The Awakened was dead long before the Ascended’s body fell to the floor.
The rest of them were utterly stunned.
However, they weren’t the elites of a great clan for nothing.
Despite the harrowing wrongness of what had happened, his companions, who were the closest ones to the bloody scene, reacted just a split second later.
Both Varo and Agathe moved, raising their swords to attack their friend and commander, who had seemingly gone mad.
Mordret tried to parry both strikes, but failed.
Varo’s sword pierced his throat.
Pushing Warren down, the petrified Awakened stared at his dead eyes and screamed.
“How can… Beastmaster, that witch! She must have forced him!”
Behind him, Agathe remained silent for a moment, looking down. Her body trembled slightly.
Varo turned around, staring at his comrade with crazed eyes. Agathe raised her head and glanced at him with a pleasant smile.
“Really, now… must you compare me to that terrible woman?”
Her rapier shot forward.
Soon, the gargantuan black skull was filled with screams, terror, and the stench of human blood.
The Nightmare Creatures were dead.
The Awakened were dead, too.
Only Mordret remained.
