Chapter 77: The First Wave (1)
Deep within the forest, Vorgath sat motionless upon his throne of bone and stone.
His crimson eyes were fixed on the distant walls of Blackthorn—or rather, what had become of them. The aging fortifications that had stood for decades, crumbling and weak, were gone. In their place rose something impossible.
A fortress worthy of the Empire’s greatest houses.
Towers scraped the sky. Obsidian battlements stretched across the horizon. Siege weapons lined the walls like teeth waiting to bite.
One of the Fallen commanders stepped forward.
Tall and unnaturally lean, his body was covered in crimson scales that shimmered beneath the morning light. Narrow, reptilian eyes swept across everyone present with open disdain, as though no one there was worthy of standing in his presence.
His name was Zarvok.
"My lord," Zarvok said, his forked tongue flickering between his words. "The walls that were weak only hours ago have vanished. In their place stand fortifications that should not exist."
He gestured toward the impossible sight.
"I’ve never seen anything like this," Zarvok said, his reptilian eyes narrowing as he studied the fortress.
"A structure of this scale couldn’t have been built overnight. Either they prepared it long before we arrived... or someone with a high-level Law created it."
Before Vorgath could respond, another Fallen stepped forward.
He was built like a bull, with massive shoulders, a thick neck, and arms as large as tree trunks. His skin was dark as charcoal, and a massive battle-axe rested casually against his shoulder.
His name was Gorath.
Unlike Zarvok, he didn’t bother studying the fortress for long. His eyes were already fixed on the walls, and a grin slowly spread across his face.
"A high-level Law?" Gorath snorted, his voice like grinding stones.
"Do you really believe someone with that kind of talent would be hiding in a place like this?"
He glanced toward the fortress with a dismissive grin.
"Only truly gifted beings, like our lord, are capable of wielding a high-level Law."
"It’s far more likely that these walls are nothing more than an illusion meant to make us believe they’re strong enough to protect them."
He slammed the butt of his axe against the ground.
"Give me some warriors, my lord. I’ll tear through whatever trick they’ve prepared and crush those walls with my own hands."
Zarvok’s reptilian eyes narrowed.
"And if it isn’t a trick?"
Gorath’s grin widened.
"Then I’ll break through them anyway."
"You would risk our soldiers for your pride."
"I’d risk them for victory."
The two Fallen stared at each other, neither willing to back down.
Vorgath finally spoke, his voice cutting through their argument like a blade.
"Enough."
Both Fallen fell silent.
Vorgath slowly rose from his throne, his massive frame casting a long shadow over the commanders. His crimson eyes remained fixed on the distant fortress, cold and calculating.
"Gorath."
The bull-like Morveth straightened. "My lord."
"Take ten thousand of our Awakened warriors and attack the northern wall."
Gorath’s grin widened. "Gladly."
Vorgath’s gaze shifted to Zarvok.
"You will remain here with the main force. If Gorath succeeds, we advance."
"If he fails..." He paused. "Then we’ll find out just how powerful those walls truly are."
Zarvok inclined his head. "As you command, my lord."
Gorath turned toward the exit, his massive frame trembling with barely contained excitement.
"I’ll tear those walls down with my own hands." He paused, a vicious grin spreading across his face. "Nothing will stand between us and Blackthorn."
Inside Blackthorn, the fortress was still buzzing with astonishment.
Soldiers crowded along the battlements, staring up at the towering obsidian walls that had replaced the old defenses. Some ran their hands over the flawless black stone, while others simply stood in silence, still struggling to comprehend what they had witnessed.
But the questions spreading through the fortress were no longer about the walls.
They were about the woman who had created them.
"Who was that woman?"
"I’ve seen her before. She was walking with the Seventh Banner Bearer. Maybe she’s one of his people."
"His people?"
A servant lowered his voice "Perhaps she’s his lover."
Several heads immediately turned toward him "His lover?"
"Why else would she be here?"
Ronan, who had been listening from nearby, couldn’t help but chuckle.
He glanced toward Malrik before looking back at the towering walls.
"Your friend certainly knows how to make an entrance" He shook his head in disbelief "I’ll admit... that was quite a surprise."
Eliza remained beside him, her expression as composed as ever, though even she couldn’t hide the faint astonishment in her eyes.
Not far away, Lilith sat casually on the edge of the battlements, her legs dangling over the side. She looked completely unconcerned, as though reshaping an entire fortress had been nothing more than a trivial task.
Malrik approached her, his gaze briefly settling on her face.
At first, nothing seemed unusual.
Then he noticed it.
A faint sheen of sweat had gathered across her forehead, and her breathing was slightly heavier than before.
The manifestation had clearly taken far more out of her than she wanted anyone to notice.
Malrik said nothing.
He simply looked away, deciding not to embarrass her by pointing it out. After a moment, he tried to lighten the mood.
"You could have done this from the moment we arrived in Blackthorn, couldn’t you?"
Lilith glanced at him "Of course."
Malrik stared at her for a moment "Then why didn’t you?"
Lilith tilted her head, as though the answer were obvious "Because you never asked."
Malrik opened his mouth then stopped. For several seconds, he simply stared at her. He had no idea how to respond to that.
"..."
Lilith’s lips curved into a faint smile.
Malrik slowly looked away.
Somehow, he felt like he had just lost an argument he had never even realized they were having.
Before Malrik could say anything else, hurried footsteps echoed through the courtyard.
Lian emerged from the corridor, his breathing slightly heavy as he approached "My lord!"
Malrik turned toward him "What is it?"
Lian quickly bowed "Our scouts spotted movement in the forest. A large force of Morveth is advancing toward Blackthorn."
"How many?"
"Somewhere between eight and ten thousand."
Malrik’s eyes narrowed slightly "Where are they heading?"
"The northern wall."
The courtyard fell silent.
Malrik turned his gaze toward the distant forest, his expression remaining calm.
So they really are going to test the walls.
A faint smile appeared on his lips "Good."
He looked toward the soldiers gathered around him.
"Let them come."
Then his gaze shifted toward Lilith.
"There’s no better way to learn what those walls can withstand."
Malrik raised one hand.
The shadows beneath his feet suddenly began to twist. A moment later, an enormous figure emerged from the darkness.
The Spider Queen stepped onto the ground, her black chitin gleaming beneath the morning light, emerald runes pulsing faintly across her body. Her eight long legs settled firmly against the stone as her emerald eyes turned toward Malrik.
Malrik had no intention of simply waiting behind the walls and allowing the Morveth to reach them.
Just because he wanted to test the fortress’s strength didn’t mean he would make the test easy for them.
He gave The Spider Queen a single command "Go to the northern wall."
The Spider Queen inclined her head.
Without a word, she turned and began making her way toward the northern battlements.
Outside the fortress, the Morveth horde emerged from the treeline.
Nearly ten thousand Awakened warriors advanced across the open ground, their red eyes burning with bloodlust as their claws tore into the earth.
At their head stood Gorath, his massive battle-axe resting casually against his shoulder.
The moment he saw the towering walls, he let out a deep laugh.
"Just as I thought." His eyes swept across the fortress with open contempt "An illusion."
He raised his axe toward the walls.
"Advance! Tear down their little trick and show these humans how powerless they really are!"
The horde surged forward, But as they drew closer to the northern wall, Gorath’s gaze suddenly shifted toward the ground ahead.
Black flowers had emerged from the earth. Thirty of them.
They were scattered across the approach to the fortress, their dark petals completely still despite the wind. A faint, malevolent energy pulsed from each one.
Gorath’s eyes narrowed. Those weren’t there before.
For a brief moment, he considered ordering the horde to stop. Then he snorted.
"Keep moving!" His grip tightened around his axe "Don’t let a few flowers slow you down!"
The Morveth continued their advance.
The first wave crossed into the field of flowers. Then the Spider Queen slowly raised one hand from atop the battlements.
Her emerald eyes glowed "Bloom."
The thirty flowers erupted simultaneously.
A violent wave of black energy tore through the approaching Morveth, engulfing the front ranks in an instant.
Screams filled the battlefield.
Bodies were thrown into the air as the deadly energy tore through flesh and armor. Dozens collapsed before they could even understand what had happened.
Then something even more disturbing began to happen. The corpses lying among the flowers slowly withered.And from each fallen body, a smaller black flower began to emerge.
One after another.
Unlike the original flowers, these new blooms were noticeably smaller, their dark aura far weaker. Yet they were still dangerous.
Gorath emerged from the edge of the blast, his massive frame still standing.
The black energy had scorched the outer layer of his skin, leaving several shallow scars across his body.
He glanced down at them with a faint frown.
That was all?
The difference between an Awakened and a Fallen was enormous. An attack capable of slaughtering Awakened-Rank Morveth in an instant was hardly enough to seriously injure someone of his rank.
Gorath raised his gaze toward the battlefield. The sight was completely different for the warriors behind him.
Bodies covered the ground, and the once-organized formation had been torn apart in an instant.
Gorath’s expression hardened.
The attack hadn’t been strong enough to threaten him, But against an army of Awakened...It had been devastating.
"Fall back!"
His roar shook the battlefield "Stay away from the flowers! Don’t touch the corpses!"
The surviving Morveth hurriedly pulled back, their formation in complete disarray.
Gorath remained where he stood, his eyes fixed on the towering fortress.
For the first time, the contempt in his eyes had disappeared. These humans were not as helpless as he had thought.
But the damage was done.
From the battlements, Malrik gave the order "Now, Ronan."
Ronan’s grin widened "You heard the leader! Archers! Mages! Unleash everything!"
Arrows rained down like a storm, while spells tore through the air in flashes of light. The Morveth ranks were thrown into chaos as dozens fell beneath the relentless barrage.
Gorath roared in frustration.
His eyes swept across the battlefield before finally settling on the towering walls.
"If they want to hide behind their little illusion...I’ll destroy it by myself." He tightened his grip around his massive axe.
With a furious roar, Gorath hurled his axe , expecting the towering wall to vanish the moment he disrupted the illusion.
But it didn’t.
His expression slowly changed. The wall was still there.
He stared at the damaged section in silence, his eyes widening as the realization began to sink in.
Then, before his very eyes, the shattered obsidian began to move.
Fragments of stone rose from the ground and drifted back toward the broken section, fitting themselves together with unnatural precision.
Cracks sealed and broken edges fused. The damaged section gradually restored itself until the wall stood whole once again.
Gorath’s grip tightened around his axe "...It’s real."
He stared at the towering fortress, completely stunned.
The wall hadn’t disappeared. It hadn’t been an illusion at all. Someone had actually created this fortress.
Zarvok’s words suddenly echoed in his mind.
Someone with a high-level Law.
Gorath looked up at the towering fortress once more.
What kind of person could do this?
The surprise in his eyes slowly faded, replaced by a stubborn scowl.
"So it’s real..." He tightened his grip around his axe "That changes nothing."
"Anyway if one strike wasn’t enough..." His grin returned "...then I’ll hit it harder."
He raised his axe and turned toward the Morveth behind him.
He was about to order another charge when the gates of Blackthorn swung open.