Elara makes sure I return to the storage house.
She also makes sure two soldiers remain outside the door.
Apparently, she has learned that telling me to rest is not enough.
I lie on the bed and stare at the stone ceiling.
My body is exhausted, but my mind refuses to slow down.
Three nearby villages have requested Elara's protection.
Between those villages and Wren's Hollow stands a royal supply fortress containing nearly two hundred soldiers, weapons, food, and access to the regional communication network.
It is too valuable to ignore.
It is also too dangerous to attack without a plan.
That last part has never stopped me before.
A notification appears above me.
Warden's Claim remains active.
Territory: Wren's Hollow
Accepted population: 361
Hostile presences detected: 0
Territorial fear available for defense: 428 Dread
The final number is new.
The fear gathered within Wren's Hollow no longer enters my personal total automatically. Some of it remains inside the territory, waiting to be used against threats.
The people here are frightened.
Of Lucien.
Of Aurelius.
Of another attack.
Instead of feeding on that fear, the Warden's Claim stores it around them like a wall.
It is still uncomfortable knowing my power is built from their emotions.
But this feels different from taking everything for myself.
A knock comes from the door.
Before I can answer, Mara enters carrying a bowl of soup and a piece of bread.
"You're awake."
"I wasn't sleeping."
"That is not surprising."
She places the food on the table beside me.
"I don't need much food anymore."
"You still need some."
"The Mark changed my body."
"The Mark did not make you less irritating."
I sit up slowly.
My injuries are healing, but the movement sends pain through my ribs.
Mara notices.
"You nearly died protecting this village."
"I've nearly died several times."
"That does not make it normal."
"It's becoming normal."
"That is worse."
She hands me the bowl.
I take it.
The soup contains pieces of meat, potatoes, and several vegetables I do not recognize.
It tastes better than it looks.
"What happened with the representatives?" I ask.
"Elara is speaking with them now."
"Without me?"
"You were unconscious."
"I'm awake now."
"You are eating."
"I can do both."
Mara sits in the chair beside the bed.
"The villages want protection, but they are not offering loyalty yet."
"That seems one-sided."
"They watched smoke rise from Wren's Hollow and heard that the Ash Saint was driven away. They want to know whether Elara can protect them without bringing Lucien's army to their homes."
"She can't guarantee that."
"She told them the same thing."
That sounds like Elara.
She refuses to make promises simply because people want to hear them.
"What do they need?" I ask.
"Millford needs grain. Lucien's soldiers seized most of its harvest for the southern garrisons."
"We have a supply fortress."
"We do not have it yet."
"Minor detail."
Mara ignores that.
"Greybank has iron mines and several skilled blacksmiths, but the royal governor arrested their council after they raised the broken-chain symbol."
"And Eastmere?"
"Fishing village. They control part of the river."
"That sounds useful."
"It would give us food and a route around the southern roads."
"So all three matter."
"Yes."
"And none can support Elara while the fortress stands between us."
Mara gives me a suspicious look.
"You sound as though you have already decided what happens next."
"We take the fortress."
"You cannot currently walk across the room without pretending it does not hurt."
"I'm healing quickly."
"You are not attacking two hundred soldiers today."
"Elara already said that."
"She told me to repeat it."
"That seems unnecessary."
"She knows you."
The guards outside the door suddenly move.
Elara enters a moment later.
Her expression suggests she heard the last part.
"I do know you."
"I wasn't planning to leave."
"You were thinking about it."
"That isn't the same thing."
"It usually becomes the same thing."
She looks toward Mara.
"Did he eat?"
"Part of it."
Elara picks up the bread and hands it to me.
"The rest."
"You have representatives waiting."
"They can wait another minute."
I take the bread.
Elara watches until I eat half of it.
Then she sits on the edge of the table.
"The three villages will not join us yet."
"Mara explained."
"They agreed to remain neutral for three days."
"That's not long."
"It is longer than Lucien will give them."
Elara looks toward the southern wall.
"The fortress commander sent messages demanding that they reject my claim before tomorrow evening."
"What happens if they refuse?"
"Their councils will be arrested. Their food and weapons will be seized."
"And if they accept your protection?"
"The fortress attacks them."
"So neutrality isn't real."
"No."
She looks tired.
Not physically.
The kind of exhaustion that comes from every available choice hurting someone.
"What do you want to do?" I ask.
"Evacuate anyone at immediate risk and avoid a battle until Wren's Hollow is reinforced."
"That gives Lucien the fortress."
"It already belongs to him."
"It gives him time to strengthen it."
"It gives us time to heal."
"Elara."
She stands.
"No."
"I didn't say anything."
"You were about to explain why attacking immediately is somehow safer."
"It might be."
"It isn't."
"Then let's examine it logically."
"You use the word logically before describing reckless plans."
Mara tries to hide a smile.
I place the empty bowl aside.
"The fortress expects an attack now that Wren's Hollow declared for you."
"Yes."
"If we wait, more soldiers arrive."
"Probably."
"If we retreat, the three villages are punished."
Elara says nothing.
"If we attack openly, Lucien can show the kingdom that your first act as a claimant was killing two hundred royal soldiers."
"That is exactly why we cannot attack."
"So we don't attack them."
She narrows her eyes.
"You just said we take the fortress."
"Taking and attacking are different."
"Not usually."
"They could choose to surrender."
"They carry obedience seals."
"Which I can remove."
"From two hundred people?"
"Not at once."
My soul weapon nearly broke when I severed the seals of fewer than forty soldiers.
Trying to cut two hundred connections would probably destroy Oathbreaker and damage my Mark again.
But I do not need to remove every seal personally.
I only need to separate the fortress from Lucien long enough for its soldiers to choose.
Elara reads my expression.
"You already have an idea."
"Possibly."
"That is not reassuring."
"The communication network connects the fortress to Lucien's authority."
Aldric's voice comes from the doorway.
He enters with his staff in one hand and a collection of metal rings floating behind him.
He looks almost as tired as Elara.
"The regional network also strengthens the soldiers' obedience seals."
I glance toward him.
"You were listening outside?"
"The guards told me you were planning something foolish."
"I haven't explained it yet."
"They know you too."
Elara crosses her arms.
"What happens if the communication network is cut?"
"The seals will remain active," Aldric says. "But Lucien will lose the ability to strengthen or punish them from a distance."
"That gives us time to remove them," I say.
"Not much."
"How much?"
"Minutes. Perhaps less if a high-ranking seal commander is present."
Mara looks between us.
"And how do we cut the network?"
Aldric turns toward me.
"Dread Severance."
Elara immediately shakes her head.
"No."
"It was your seal master's idea."
"It was not," Aldric says. "I merely stated that it is possible."
"Same thing."
"It is not."
I stand from the bed.
Pain moves through my leg, but I remain upright.
"The network must have a central connection."
"It does," Aldric says. "A communication tower inside the fortress."
"Then I reach the tower and cut it."
Elara stares at me.
"You cannot walk properly."
"I can use Dread Step."
"You tore your legs apart the last time."
"They evolved afterward."
"That is not a recovery method."
"We don't need to go tonight."
She pauses.
That was not the answer she expected.
"When?"
"Tomorrow."
"That is still too soon."
"It gives us time to gather information."
Aldric studies me.
"You are proposing infiltration."
"Not alone."
Elara's eyes narrow again.
"Who are you taking?"
"Malrec knows royal fortresses."
"He is injured."
"So am I."
"That does not improve the idea."
"Commander Soren knows the Ninth Battalion."
"He will be recognized."
"Exactly."
Elara becomes quiet.
I continue.
"Soren arrives openly with soldiers from Wren's Hollow. He claims Malrec forced him to cooperate and that he escaped."
"That could work," Mara says.
Elara looks toward her.
"You are encouraging him?"
"I said it could work. That does not mean I like it."
I look toward Aldric.
"Can you hide my Mark?"
"For a short time."
"And my weapon?"
"It is inside your soul."
"So yes."
"The fortress may have detection wards."
"Can you hide me from those?"
Aldric's expression becomes irritated.
"You ask questions as if sealing a World Raider is simple."
"Is it possible?"
"Yes."
"Then we have a plan."
"No," Elara says. "You have the beginning of a plan."
"That is usually enough."
"Not this time."
She walks toward the door.
"Come with me."
"Where?"
"To meet the representatives."
"I thought they were waiting."
"They are."
"For me?"
"For the person whose name frightened the Ash Saint away."
I follow her from the storage house.
Mara and Aldric come with us.
The quarry looks different in daylight.
Temporary shelters fill the open space, but work has already begun along the walls. Villagers move stone, repair carts, and sort salvaged supplies.
Soldiers reinforce the entrances with timber and metal.
The Banner of the Broken Chain stands above the center.
Warden's Claim responds as I pass beneath it.
Silver-black lines connect the people here to the territorial boundary.
Some villagers lower their heads when they see me.
Others move out of my path.
They respect what I did.
They still fear me.
Both emotions exist together.
The three representatives wait near a stone table.
The first is an older man wearing a thick brown coat. A metal pin shaped like a mill wheel is attached to his collar.
Millford.
The second is a muscular woman with dark skin and short gray hair. Iron dust stains her hands.
Greybank.
The final representative is a young man dressed in blue cloth with a fishing knife at his waist.
Eastmere.
Commander Soren and Malrec stand nearby.
Malrec's armor has been repaired enough to wear, but he has removed all royal markings. Nightfall remains broken at his side.
The representatives become silent when I approach.
Their fear forms three clear threads.
The woman from Greybank speaks first.
"So that's him."
I look toward Elara.
"Did you not introduce me?"
"They wanted to see for themselves."
The woman examines my marked hand.
"The stories say your palm has an eye."
"It does."
"Can it see me?"
"Probably."
She does not appear comforted.
The older man from Millford lowers his voice.
"They also say Death walks behind you."
"That happened once."
Elara looks at me.
"That answer is not helping."
The young man from Eastmere studies my face.
"You don't look like a monster."
"People keep sounding disappointed by that."
"I did not say I was disappointed."
"Your fear did."
His expression changes immediately.
The chain connecting him to my Mark strengthens.
I close my palm.
"You don't need to be afraid while you're here."
The words sound strange coming from me.
The young representative looks toward Elara.
"Is he always like this?"
"No," she says. "Sometimes he is worse."
The woman from Greybank laughs.
The tension around the table weakens slightly.
Elara gestures toward the representatives.
"Shin, this is Elder Rowan of Millford, Forewoman Dalia of Greybank, and Taren Vale of Eastmere."
I nod toward each of them.
Dalia crosses her arms.
"We heard you intend to attack Blackridge Fortress."
So the fortress has a name.
"I intend to take it."
"With what army?"
I look toward Soren's soldiers.
"Part of one."
"You have fewer than forty fighters."
"Thirty-seven," Malrec says.
Dalia looks at him.
"And one wounded Royal Blade."
Malrec's expression remains cold.
"One is normally enough."
"Not when the fortress contains two hundred soldiers."
"Two hundred soldiers controlled by seals," I say. "Not two hundred enemies."
Elder Rowan looks uneasy.
"You believe they will change sides."
"I believe they should be allowed to choose."
"And if they choose Lucien?"
"Then they become enemies."
Elara gives me a warning look.
Dalia does not seem bothered.
"At least he answers clearly."
Taren places both hands on the stone table.
"Eastmere cannot wait three days. Royal ships are already moving along the river."
"How many?" Elara asks.
"Four patrol boats. Nearly sixty soldiers."
"They are separate from Blackridge?" Malrec asks.
"For now."
Taren looks toward the south.
"If the fortress receives orders, those boats can reach us before sunset tomorrow."
Elara turns toward Elder Rowan.
"And Millford?"
"The fortress seized our grain two days ago. What remains will last a week."
Dalia taps her fingers against the stone.
"Greybank's council is being held inside Blackridge."
"Alive?" I ask.
"For now."
That gives us hostages.
More importantly, it gives Dalia a reason to help.
"What can each village provide?" I ask.
Elara looks toward me.
"We have not agreed to accept their allegiance."
"I'm gathering information."
Dalia answers first.
"Greybank has fifty miners who know how to fight in tunnels. Fifteen are here with me."
"That would have been useful to mention earlier."
"You did not ask."
Malrec almost smiles again.
Dalia continues.
"We also have powder used to break stone."
"Explosive?"
"If placed correctly."
That is useful.
"Millford?" I ask.
Elder Rowan hesitates.
"We have twenty hunters and several wagons."
"Do the wagons display royal supply markings?"
His eyes sharpen.
"Yes."
"Eastmere?"
Taren touches the knife at his waist.
"Boats. River guides. Thirty people willing to fight if the Crown comes."
I look at the map spread across the table.
Blackridge Fortress stands south of Wren's Hollow, built where the main road crosses the river.
A stone bridge connects its eastern and western sections.
The communication tower rises inside the northern wall.
Supply wagons enter through the west gate.
Boats dock beneath the southern wall.
The fortress controls the road and river because it sits between them.
It also creates three ways inside.
Soren points toward the west gate.
"I can approach with Millford's wagons. The garrison believes Wren's Hollow was almost destroyed. They may accept that some of us escaped."
"What about Malrec?" Elara asks.
"I arrive as Soren's prisoner," Malrec says.
Everyone looks toward him.
He continues.
"The garrison commander will want proof that I betrayed Lucien. Delivering me gives Soren a reason to be allowed inside."
"Would they not simply kill you?" Mara asks.
"Royal Blades cannot be executed without authorization from a prince."
"That rule did not stop Lucien from controlling your heart," I say.
"No."
Malrec looks toward the broken sword at his waist.
"But it will make the commander hesitate."
"And me?" I ask.
Aldric points toward one of the wagons.
"Hidden beneath a seal."
"That sounds uncomfortable."
"It will be."
Elara studies the plan.
"Soren and Malrec enter through the west gate. Shin reaches the tower."
"Greybank's miners approach from the north," Dalia says. "There is an old drainage channel beneath the outer wall."
Soren looks toward her.
"How do you know?"
"We built part of the fortress."
That is even more useful.
"The channel was sealed years ago," Dalia continues. "But stone powder can reopen it."
"Your people enter after the network is cut," I say.
She nods.
"Taren's boats wait south of the fortress," Malrec adds. "If soldiers flee or reinforcements arrive by river, Eastmere controls the crossing."
Taren looks uncertain.
"Four royal patrol boats are already nearby."
"Can your people avoid them?" I ask.
"We know the marsh channels better than they do."
"Then don't fight unless necessary."
Elara looks at me.
"That sounded almost cautious."
"I'm evolving."
"No, you aren't."
"Technically, I just did."
She ignores that.
"What happens after Shin cuts the network?"
Aldric places several metal rings on the map.
"They will form a temporary severance field around the fortress."
"How long?" Soren asks.
"Three minutes."
"That is not enough to free two hundred soldiers."
"No," I say. "But it is enough to show them their seals can be broken."
Malrec looks toward me.
"You want to sever the commander's oath publicly."
"If he orders them to attack after realizing Lucien enslaved him, the soldiers choose him."
"And if he does not?"
"Then the fortress surrenders."
Elder Rowan looks toward Elara.
"You are risking everything on one man's decision."
"No," she says.
She looks around the table.
"We are risking it on many decisions."
The representatives become quiet.
Elara points toward Blackridge.
"Soren chooses whether to return to the soldiers who once followed him."
Then toward Malrec.
"Malrec chooses whether his family's safety is worth serving Lucien."
Malrec's expression tightens, but he does not interrupt.
"Dalia's miners choose whether to enter a royal fortress for their imprisoned council. Eastmere chooses whether to oppose patrol boats on the river. Millford chooses whether to risk its remaining wagons and hunters."
Finally, she looks toward me.
"And Shin chooses whether to trust anyone else with part of the plan."
"That last one seems unnecessary."
"It is the most difficult part for you."
She is probably right.
I would rather enter the fortress alone.
Not because it is smarter.
Because depending on others creates variables I cannot control.
It also gives me something to lose.
The system recognizes Elara's claim.
Warden's Claim recognizes the people beneath it.
Perhaps being a Warden means accepting that protection cannot be done alone.
Dalia looks toward Elara.
"If Greybank joins you, what happens to our mines?"
"They remain Greybank's," Elara says.
"And the taxes?"
"Set by your council and negotiated with the Free Asterian Claim."
"Not demanded?"
"No."
Elder Rowan speaks next.
"Millford's grain?"
"Your village feeds itself first."
Taren looks toward the river on the map.
"And Eastmere?"
"Controls its own fishing waters."
The three representatives exchange looks.
Elara continues.
"I am not asking you to kneel today. Help us take Blackridge, and I will protect your right to decide afterward."
Dalia places one hand against the broken-chain symbol painted on her shield.
"You may not have to ask."
The Warden's Claim pulses.
Not enough to expand.
Enough to recognize possibility.
A notification appears.
Conditional alliance proposed.
Millford, Greybank, and Eastmere will support the operation against Blackridge Fortress.
Success may expand the Free Asterian Claim.
Failure may collapse regional support.
The system always includes the worst possibility.
Useful.
Annoying.
Elara looks toward me.
"You still need to recover."
"I will."
"The operation begins tomorrow night."
"That gives us more than a day."
"Yes."
"So I can prepare."
"You can rest."
"Both."
She points toward Mara.
"He stays inside Wren's Hollow until sunset tomorrow."
Mara nods.
"I'll make sure."
I look toward the guards.
"You're assigning more people to watch me?"
"Yes."
"This feels like imprisonment."
Elara raises one eyebrow.
"You can break royal seals, survive executioners, and frighten monsters from other worlds. I doubt two guards can imprison you."
"That sounds like a challenge."
"It is not."
The meeting ends shortly afterward.
The representatives return to their people to prepare.
Dalia's miners begin drawing the fortress drainage system from memory.
Taren sends riders toward the river.
Elder Rowan offers the remaining supply wagons.
Commander Soren selects twelve soldiers to accompany him.
Malrec sharpens the broken edge of Nightfall despite knowing it cannot be fully repaired without a royal forge.
Aldric gathers seals capable of hiding me and disrupting the communication tower.
Everyone has a role.
Mine is simple.
Enter Blackridge.
Reach the tower.
Sever Lucien's connection.
Then hope two hundred soldiers prefer freedom to obedience.
As Elara leads me back toward the storage house, I look south.
Warden's Claim lets me feel the edge of the territory.
Beyond it, fear stretches across the road toward Blackridge.
The fortress soldiers have heard what happened in Wren's Hollow.
They know the Ash Saint retreated.
They know Malrec disappeared.
They know the World Raider survived.
Their fear is already building the story before I arrive.
Elara follows my gaze.
"What do you sense?"
"The fortress."
"From here?"
"Not clearly."
I can feel one connection stronger than the others.
Someone inside Blackridge is terrified of the royal obedience seals.
Not because the person wants freedom.
Because the person knows exactly what happens when they fail.
The fear is directed toward a name.
Commander Halvek.
The man in charge of the fortress.
He may not be a willing servant.
Or he may be worse than Lucien's seal.
"We need information about Halvek," I say.
Malrec, walking behind us, answers.
"He commanded the southern prison camps before receiving Blackridge."
"That does not sound promising."
"He follows orders precisely."
"Because of the seal?"
Malrec's fear shifts.
"No."
"Then why?"
"Because he enjoys having them."
That complicates things.
If Commander Halvek loses Lucien's connection and still chooses to fight, the soldiers may follow him.
I look toward Wren's Hollow's banner.
Perhaps we do not need the commander.
Only enough soldiers to stop believing he controls them.
Elara notices my expression.
"The plan changed."
"Not yet."
"What are you thinking?"
"That Halvek may not surrender."
"What happens then?"
I open my marked palm.
The purple eye looks south.
"Then we give the fortress someone else to follow."
That evening, I finally sleep.
Not because Elara ordered me to.
Because my body gives me no choice.
I dream of Blackridge Fortress.
Stone walls surrounded by dark water.
A tower filled with golden chains.
Two hundred soldiers standing in perfect lines while something beneath the ground pulls on their hearts.
At the top of the tower, Commander Halvek waits.
I cannot see his face.
Only the black crown sealed across his chest.
Behind him stands another figure.
A woman wearing white armor.
One of the Seven Royal Blades.
Her sword is pointed toward the floor.
Blood falls from its tip.
When she raises her head, her eyes meet mine through the dream.
She smiles.
Then every soldier inside the fortress speaks at once.
"We know you're coming."
I wake before sunrise.
The Mark in my palm is open.
A message floats above it.
Warden's Claim has detected a hostile vision directed toward its Warden.
Origin: Blackridge Fortress
Unknown Royal Blade presence confirmed.
I sit up.
So much for only two hundred soldiers.
The woman in white armor was not part of the original reports.
Someone inside Blackridge sent the dream deliberately.
A warning.
Or an invitation.
Either way, the fortress already knows about the plan.
I look toward the southern horizon.
The operation begins tomorrow night.
But our enemy has started early.
END OF CHAPTER 16