Ascension of the Abyss*

The morning air carried a crisp chill as the Iron Fangs gathered in the meeting room once again. A map of Valdros, their kingdom, and its surrounding territories was spread across the wooden table, marked with inked circles, notes scribbled in Mira's precise handwriting. The tension in the air was palpable. Last night's discovery had shaken them, but more than that, it had confirmed something undeniable—House Aldric was no longer lurking in the shadows. They were making their move.

Mira stood at the head of the table, her expression sharper than usual, scanning the map before speaking.

"We now know they've begun Essence infusion on people here in Riverend. What we don't know is how far they've taken their experiments, or where they've moved their operation. But make no mistake—this isn't an isolated plan. House Aldric has been working toward something much larger."

She tapped a finger on the map, pointing to a region far north of Riverend.

"Blackstone Keep. One of their lesser-known holdings. Our sources suggest high-profile visitors have been seen coming and going from here over the past few months—people with ties to the nobility, the military, and—" her eyes darkened, "foreign dignitaries."

Alex straightened at that. Foreign dignitaries? House Aldric's plans weren't just an internal power grab—they had external connections.

Felix frowned. "You're saying they're working with other kingdoms?"

Mira nodded. "There's no other reason for them to be entertaining foreign representatives. That alone is dangerous. If nobles from outside the kingdom are involved, this isn't just an internal conspiracy anymore—it's a geopolitical threat."

Gareth leaned forward, crossing his arms. "We're talking about treason, then."

Selene's voice, cold and steady, cut through the room. "If House Aldric is playing with foreign allies, it means they aren't just trying to overthrow someone within the kingdom. It means they're preparing for war."

A heavy silence followed.

Dain let out a slow breath, shaking his head. "If they're really preparing for something this big… how the hell has the King not noticed?"

Mira's lips pressed into a thin line. "Because he doesn't have the power to stop them. Not anymore."

Gareth narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"The King is weak." Mira's tone was blunt, unyielding. "He wasn't always, but over the years, he's allowed House Aldric to gain too much sway over the courts. They control the nobility, the economy, the military—at least enough of it to operate unchecked. If anyone within the King's council has raised concerns about House Aldric, they were either ignored… or silenced."

Roderic let out a quiet, humorless chuckle. "They've been doing this for years. Getting rid of problems before they become threats."

Felix raised an eyebrow. "That's vague."

Roderic's smirk disappeared. "A decade ago, there was another noble house—House Varroth. They controlled trade routes in the eastern territories and were one of the few families wealthy enough to rival House Aldric. They were also vocal against Aldric's expanding influence, warning the King about their unchecked power."

Alex listened carefully. He had never heard this name before.

"So what happened?" Selene asked.

"They were wiped out."

Silence.

Roderic's fingers drummed against the wooden table. "Not just killed. Erased. Their lands were seized. Their name removed from all records. Not a single survivor. No investigation. No punishment. The King did nothing."

Felix let out a low whistle. "So they slaughtered a noble house in broad daylight, and no one so much as questioned it?"

"Oh, people questioned it." Roderic's tone darkened. "They just didn't ask twice."

Alex's stomach twisted.

House Aldric wasn't just powerful.

They were untouchable.

Mira continued. "If we assume House Aldric is aligning itself with foreign interests, then we need to consider who would benefit the most from destabilizing the kingdom. That brings us to the neighboring territories." She gestured at the broader map, where the lands surrounding Valdros were marked.

The Zephyr Dominion, a nation of hardened warrior clans to the northeast, known for their rigid hierarchy and unmatched military discipline.

The Kalvoss Republic, a merchant empire to the west, where wealth and influence often dictated power more than bloodlines.

The Drakhar Principalities, a fractured land ruled by several powerful city-states, where mercenaries and assassins were as influential as kings.

The Empire of Solrath, the largest and most dangerous of all, a militaristic empire with ambitions stretching far beyond its borders.

The Free Cities, independent trade hubs along the southeastern coast, where political alliances shift with coin and power, and mercenary companies operate without national ties.

The Arcane Sovereignty of Ithorien, a secluded land to the east, ruled by an ancient mageocracy where magic is not just a tool but the foundation of their society.

Mira pointed at Ithorien, her gaze sharp.

"There's one more concern. The Arcane Sovereignty of Ithorien has remained neutral in most conflicts, preferring isolation. But House Aldric has been reaching out to them."

Alex frowned. "Mages?"

"Not just mages," Mira corrected. "Ithorien is home to the oldest magical academies and research institutions in the world. It's where the greatest scholars of Essence theory reside. If House Aldric is seeking them out, it's not for political backing—it's for knowledge."

Selene's voice was calm but firm. "Knowledge of what?"

Mira met her gaze. "Essence manipulation. Essence fusion. Forbidden arts. If they can gain access to Ithorien's libraries, they could unlock something far worse than what they're already doing."

Roderic exhaled. "So we have a noble house committing treason, working with foreign nations, conducting Essence experiments on people, and now we don't know where they moved their operations?"

"Essentially," Mira confirmed.

Felix groaned. "I hate this job."

Selene ignored him and turned to Mira. "Do we have any leads?"

"Only one," Mira replied. "One of my informants heard whispers that House Aldric's men are going to be near the Southern Trade Route, escorting wagons. That route doesn't lead to any of their known holdings, which means they've either built something new or they're using an abandoned site."

Gareth nodded. "Then we find them, and we take one alive."

Mira met his gaze. "Exactly."

The road stretched through the Southern Trade Route, bathed in the dim glow of a crescent moon. Night had fallen, casting jagged shadows across the dirt path, where old trees lined either side like silent sentinels. The air carried a chill, dampened only by the distant rustle of nocturnal creatures hidden in the undergrowth.

Alex crouched behind a dense thicket, his spear gripped tightly in his hands. From their vantage point, the Iron Fangs had clear sight of their targets—a group of seven armored men stationed near a heavily reinforced wagon. The horses standing nearby snorted, their warm breath misting in the cold air. Lanterns flickered faintly, casting a low, shifting light over the guards.

Mira had been right—House Aldric's men were moving in secret, using the late hours to transport something important.

Alex's muscles coiled as he studied the scene. The guards looked tense but not actively on guard. That was good. They weren't expecting an attack.

From his position beside Mira and Roderic, he caught fragments of conversation drifting through the crisp night air.

"It's not our job to ask questions."

"Orders were to move everything before first light. You want to be the one explaining to the Overseer why we're late?"

"Relax. We've been running this route for weeks—"

Mira's fingers flicked in a silent command. Now.

The Iron Fangs moved as one.

Alex sprang forward, the rush of movement nearly silent in the thick grass. He closed the distance between himself and his target in an instant, spear thrusting forward in a precise strike. The Essence-infused tip pierced clean through the nearest guard's chest before the man could even draw his weapon. A strangled gasp left the soldier's lips as his body convulsed—then fell limp.

Felix darted to the left, twin daggers flashing in the moonlight. He moved like a wraith, stepping behind his target and slitting the man's throat in a single, fluid motion. The soldier barely had time to register his death before crumpling to the ground.

To the right, Roderic met another enemy head-on. The larger, heavily-armored warrior swung his longsword in a wide arc, but Roderic was faster. He deflected the strike with his own blade before driving his knee into the soldier's ribs, then reversed his grip and plunged his sword into the man's exposed throat. Blood sprayed across the wagon's side as the body slumped.

Selene was a ghost in the dark, weaving through the chaos with deadly efficiency. She sidestepped a panicked swing from one of the guards and sank her dagger into his ribs with unerring precision. The man's eyes widened in shock before his body went still.

Gareth and Rivka worked in tandem—Gareth smashing through a soldier's defense with his sheer brute force, Rivka finishing the job with a well-placed crossbow bolt to the head.

Alex turned to face the last remaining warrior—a man desperately trying to mount the wagon and flee. Not happening.

Alex's spear shot forward, its Essence-infused strike slamming into the man's leg, sending him crashing to the ground. A scream tore from his throat as he clutched his wounded limb, his weapon slipping from his grasp.

The battlefield fell silent. Seven men had stood here minutes ago. Now, only one remained.

Mira approached the fallen man, her boots crunching against the dirt as she crouched beside him.

"Talk."

The Aldric soldier groaned, trying to push himself up, but Roderic stomped a heavy boot against his back, pinning him to the ground. The man gasped, wincing in pain as Mira knelt beside him.

His breathing was shallow, his face pale, though whether from blood loss or fear was unclear. Unlike the hardened warriors of House Aldric's elite, this one wasn't trained for interrogation.

"I… I won't betray my house," he gritted out.

Roderic exhaled. "They always say that."

Mira studied him for a moment before rising to her feet. "Fine."

Alex noticed it immediately—the change in the air, a subtle shift in pressure. Selene stepped forward.

The prisoner tensed. Not because he recognized her—but because of something instinctual. A primal fear of something he couldn't quite name.

Selene knelt beside him, her violet eyes sharp and unreadable. "Let's start with something simple," she said, her voice almost… gentle. "Who gave the order to move?"

The man pressed his lips together.

Selene tilted her head slightly. Then she smiled. It wasn't cruel, nor was it comforting. It was simply unreadable, like a blade held just beneath the surface of calm water.

"You don't have to die tonight," she murmured. "But I promise you, if you lie, you'll wish you had."

The man's breathing hitched.

Selene reached into her cloak and retrieved a thin dagger, its edge gleaming in the moonlight. She ran a single finger along its length, almost absentmindedly, as if she wasn't truly paying attention to the weapon—but to the prisoner's reaction.

"Last chance," she whispered.

The man swallowed hard.

Alex watched in silence. He had never witnessed an interrogation before, but this was different to what he it imagined would be like. Selene wasn't threatening him. She was merely making him understand that whatever choice he made… he would regret the wrong one.

The prisoner hesitated. His breath came out shaky—then flinched at the quiet scrape of Selene's dagger against stone.

And then, finally—

He broke.

" it came from house Aldric"

The prisoner exhaled shakily, his body sagging in relief as Selene withdrew slightly. But the tension in the room didn't ease. If anything, it grew heavier.

Mira crossed her arms. "Obviously, stop wasting our time. We want the name of the person who gave the order."

The prisoner swallowed hard, his eyes darting toward Roderic for the briefest moment before he spoke.

"…Sir Veylan."

A silence heavier than iron fell upon the room.

Felix let out a low whistle. Gareth's expression darkened. Even Selene's usually unreadable face flickered with something that might have been concern.

Roderic, however, was the only one who didn't react with mere surprise.

His hands clenched into fists.

Mira was the first to break the silence. "Sir Veylan—Veylan the Black Wolf?"

The prisoner gave a shaky nod.

"None other," he rasped. "He was the one who issued the order. He oversaw the relocation personally. If he's involved… you're already too late."

Roderic's jaw tightened. His shoulders were rigid, a storm gathering in his eyes.

Alex didn't know the name, but from the way the room had shifted, from the anger radiating off Roderic like heat from a forge, he knew that this was serious.

Sir Veylan.

A name that even Alex—new to this world—could tell carried weight.

Felix let out a breath. "Hell. I thought he was busy playing lapdog to the Aldrics in court, not leading secret operations."

Mira's voice was measured, but there was something sharp beneath it. "He's the strongest Knight under House Aldric. Rank 4. That makes him one of the most dangerous warriors in the entire kingdom."

"Aye," Gareth muttered. "And that bastard has never lost a fight."

Roderic's grip on the hilt of his sword tightened. His voice, when he finally spoke, was quiet—but cold.

"He has."

The room stilled.

The prisoner blinked in confusion, his fear momentarily overridden by curiosity. "…What?"

Roderic's gaze didn't leave the ground.

"He's lost once," he said, each word sharp enough to cut.

Alex saw it then—the anger wasn't just about Veylan's strength or his status.

It was personal.

Felix exhaled through his nose. "Shit."

Gareth rubbed his face. "Do you have a grudge against him."

Roderic didn't respond, but the answer was clear enough.

Mira didn't press. Not now. Not with the storm brewing in Roderic's eyes.

Instead, she turned back to the prisoner. "Where did they move to?"

The prisoner hesitated. He had already betrayed so much. He had no future with House Aldric. But speaking about Veylan… that was a different level of treachery.

Selene crouched beside him again, tilting her head slightly.

"We already know about Blackstone Keep," she said, her tone calm, patient. "But we don't know what's waiting for us there."

The prisoner exhaled shakily. "They… they weren't talking about Blackstone Keep. Not just that. They mentioned… something else. An arrival."

Mira's gaze sharpened. "A shipment?"

The prisoner nodded. "I don't know what it was. Only that it came from outside the kingdom. And that Veylan himself was sent to ensure its safe delivery."

Another heavy silence.

Mira " was the place Blackstone keep"

"No. It's South," he gasped. "An outpost near the ruins of Alnwick. They've been moving them there since last week."

A sharp silence followed.

Gareth swore under his breath, his face darkening. Roderic stiffened slightly, a rare flicker of something unreadable crossing his expression. Even Mira, usually composed, narrowed her eyes.

"That's not possible," Gareth muttered. "Alnwick was abandoned after the civil wars. No one goes there—it's cursed land."

Felix let out a low whistle. "That's a bold claim. Since when do nobles care about old superstitions?"

Mira's fingers tapped against her thigh, thoughtful. "It's not just superstition," she said. "During the last war, Alnwick was a stronghold that housed a faction of rogue battlemages. When the city fell, the survivors weren't just killed—they were erased. No bodies, no records, nothing. Whatever happened there, the royal court made sure no one asked questions."

Roderic exhaled, rubbing a hand over his jaw. "And now House Aldric is setting up shop in the one place no sane person would go. Either they're desperate, or they know something we don't."

Alex took in the tension that gripped the room. He didn't know the full history behind Alnwick, but from the way the others reacted, it wasn't just some ruined city—it was a place people feared.

Mira turned back to the prisoner. "How many men are stationed there?"

The man swallowed hard. "I… I don't know the exact numbers. Maybe a hundred. Maybe more."

Mira exchanged a look with Roderic, silent understanding passing between them.

Felix cursed under his breath.

Selene finally stood. "we're running out of time."

Mira nodded, her mind already turning. "We leave for Blackstone Keep at first light."

Alex confused " are we not going to Alnwick"

Mira shook her head. "We don't have enough information about their camp there. It's too risky to charge in blindly. For now, I'll send a few scouts to investigate the area first."

Alex nodded in agreement, silently absorbing everything. Veylan. A shipment from outside the kingdom. A plan that was already in motion. Whatever House Aldric was doing, they weren't just preparing for war—they were accelerating it.

Whatever was happening, House Aldric was moving faster than they had expected.

And now, they were walking straight into Veylan the black wolfs path.