[1:06:57]
Valric's boots struck the marble in a steady, unhurried beat, each step echoing up the gallery like a hammer on a coffin lid. His black tunic swallowed the torchlight, and for a moment, the only thing bright about him was his smile.
"Your Majesty," he said, with a nod deep enough to be respectful, but not so deep it humbled him. "I hear we have uninvited guests."
"You brought them?" I asked. The words left my mouth like a drawn blade.
He chuckled low. "To defend you." Then he turned his head slightly, just enough for me to notice the glint of steel strapped under his arm. "I came because Drann's men have been sniffing at my barracks. I don't like hounds near my door."
Jorven stiffened, ready to speak, but Valric's hand shot up. "Save your breath. If you doubt me, keep your sword pointed my way. But if you want the council breathing by dawn, you'll let me cut down the bastards at your side."
[1:05:22]
The enemy line slowed, clearly confused at seeing Valric with me. A few exchanged glances, waiting for some signal that never came. That hesitation was worth gold.
"Then fight," I said.
Valric's smile widened. "With pleasure."
The first wave broke into a charge, spears lowering as boots thundered on stone. My men held, tucked into the alcoves and behind the columns, letting the enemy close the distance before striking. The gallery exploded in steel and shouts.
Jorven caught the first spear on his shield and twisted, sending its wielder sprawling into another man. Two of my loyalists yanked the downed soldier into the alcove and buried blades in him before the others could react.
Valric moved like a wolf in a chicken pen, no wasted motion, no mercy. His sword was short, perfect for close quarters, and his strikes left no time for his enemies to cry out. He fought back-to-back with me at one point, and I felt the hard shove of his shoulder keeping me upright after a blow rattled my arm.
[1:01:44]
Another horn sounded, closer this time, not from the east wing, but from the north. More of them. They were trying to pinch us.
"Fall back two steps!" I shouted. "Draw them in!"
We tightened our line, forcing the enemy to squeeze into the choke point where their numbers meant nothing. Valric's men, he'd brought several , I noticed now. They slid in on our flank, blades flashing. One of them fell within seconds, a spear tip punching through his chest as blood gushed out and dripped onto the marble floor, but the rest pressed harder, driving the enemy toward the center.
Valric leaned close enough for me to smell wine and blood on his breath. "They're not expecting resistance here. That means someone told them you'd be in your chambers, guarded by half this number."
"Which means they didn't expect resistance from you" I said.
He grinned, showing teeth. "Then I've ruined someone's night."
[0:56:03]
We dropped three more in quick succession. The rest hesitated again, eyes darting down the corridor. In that moment, a second group appeared at the far end, i exhaled a breath i was holding, because these were mine, loyalists answering Jorven's earlier signal. They slammed into the enemy's rear, trapping them between hammer and anvil.
Steel rang until the sound blurred into a constant scream. My arm ached, my grip slippery with sweat and blood, but we didn't give ground. When the last man dropped, the gallery smelled of iron and hot oil from the torches.
[0:50:37]
I wiped my blade on a fallen man's tabard and looked at Valric. "Proving some fake loyalty?"
He sheathed his sword with a neat click. "Proof enough that I'm not the one selling you out. Or do you think I'd spill this much blood just to earn your trust?"
"Absolutely" I said bluntly.
His grin didn't fade, but something colder settled in his eyes. "Then let me give you one more reason to believe me, Your royal majesty, Drann's men aren't guarding the west gate anymore. They're moving toward the council wing. I know because I sent my scouts ahead before I came here."
I narrowed my eyes. "And why would you do that?"
"Because if the council dies, the kingdom's left headless, and I don't get to play my games with a headless kingdom. I like my pieces on the board, Your royal Majesty."
Jorven stepped forward, breathing heavily, his clothes shredded from places "We've got maybe forty minutes before they reach the council chamber."
[0:44:12]
I sheathed my sword. "Then we take the fight to them. Jorven, half the men stay here to hold the gallery. If the east wing moves, I want them dead before they take three steps."
Valric tilted his head. "And the rest?"
"They're coming with me to the council wing. You included."
He gave a small mocking bow."After you, my king."
We moved through the palace in a tight wedge, the corridors echoing with our boots. Servants flattened themselves against the walls, eyes wide. The festival's roar outside was a cruel contrast to the blood spilled in these halls.
At the council wing's outer door, two guards in palace colors barred the way. I recognized neither, and more importantly, they didn't salute.
"Stand aside, Soldier!" I ordered.
They didn't move.
Valric sighed, stepped forward, and opened one of their throats with the smoothness of a man uncorking a bottle. The other barely had time to reach for his weapon before my blade found his gut.
[0:32:59]
Inside, the council chamber was barricaded from within. Voices shouted, furniture scraped, and over it all, the steady pounding of a ram on the opposite door.
"They're in the archives," Jorven said. "Trying to break through to the council from the other side."
I glanced at Valric. "We split them. And then gut them."
He flashed a grin. "Now you're thinking like me, Your highness."
We took separate stairwells, my men with me, his with him. The pounding grew louder as I approached the side corridor. When we burst through, the enemy never saw it coming. In the narrow space between shelves of dusty records, we carved through them like reapers.
[0:21:17]
By the time we reached the main chamber, Valric was already there, his boot on the throat of the last living attacker. He looked up at me. "Still think I'm the traitor?"
I stepped closer, meeting his eyes. "No. But I still think you want something."
He chuckled and removed his boot, letting the man gasp. "Of course I do. We all do. Yours is the throne. Mine... Well, mine, you won't know for a while."
The System pulsed in the back of my skull.
[Main Quest Updated: Defend the Council — Success][Secondary Quest Added: Discover Valric's True Motives]
[00:00:00] Timer disabled!
I took a breath of relief as the vision pulsed.
Outside, the festival's music carried on, blissfully ignorant of how close the palace had come to ruin.