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Chapter 22

  BOOM! BOOM!

  Sudden explosions shattered the night, their deafening echoes rolling through the fortress like thunder. Flames burst from several buildings within the walls, casting wild, flickering shadows across the snow-covered ground. Wooden roofs collapsed under the force of the blasts, sending embers spiraling into the frigid air. In moments, the fortress—once a bastion of order and defense—was thrown into chaos.

  Panic spread like wildfire among the patrol guards. Soldiers scrambled in all directions, some racing to douse the spreading flames with buckets of water, others shouting conflicting orders as they tried to regain control. The once-disciplined ranks dissolved into confusion, the roaring fires illuminating their fear-stricken faces.

  On the battlements, the defenders froze, momentarily distracted by the inferno raging behind them. Eyes widened, and a ripple of uncertainty coursed through the troops as they glanced back at the burning heart of their fortress. This brief hesitation was all the barbarians needed. With renewed ferocity, some of the boldest warriors surged forward, howling with bloodlust as they exploited the momentary lapse in the defenders' focus.

  But the general remained unshaken.

  Clad in his battle-worn armor, his face partially shadowed beneath his helmet, the veteran general's eyes narrowed, reflecting both the flames behind him and the barbarians charging ahead. The deep frown carved into his face betrayed his frustration, but his voice remained steady, cutting through the chaos like a blade.

  "Hold your ground!" he bellowed, his voice carrying above the din of battle. "Focus on the enemy in front of you! Let no man break our lines!"

  His soldiers, hearing the steel in his voice, began to steady themselves, falling back into formation under his unyielding command.

  Turning to the guard at his side, the general barked, "Take a squad and control the fires! Find the source of this sabotage and deal with it—swiftly." The guard gave a sharp salute, his face pale but resolute, and dashed off into the burning fortress.

  Without missing a beat, the general turned to another officer. "You! Rally the men—cut down any barbarian that breaks through. I want no gaps in our defense!"

  As the fires raged and the fortress descended further into turmoil, the barbarians outside roared with renewed vigor. Though their bodies were tired and their ranks thinned, the sight of the flames licking the fortress walls ignited their spirits. Their war cries grew louder, their attacks more savage.

  Far behind the barbarian lines, the chieftain stood atop a small rise, his silhouette outlined by the flickering torches of his warriors. His cold eyes gleamed as he watched the flames rise within the fortress. A grim smile curled on his lips, knowing that his infiltrators had succeeded. The fortress was no longer just under siege—it was unraveling from within.

  Heavy footsteps thundered through the fortress as soldiers rushed about, carrying buckets of water drawn hastily from the wells. The air was thick with smoke, and the glow of the raging fire painted the stone walls in hues of orange and red. Shouts filled the night—orders being given, men calling for more water, others coughing as they struggled to contain the spreading flames. The fortress was in chaos, yet deep in one of its shadowed alleyways, far from the immediate blaze, two guards stood motionless.

  Unlike the frantic soldiers battling the inferno, these two remained unnervingly calm, their expressions unreadable beneath their helmets. One glanced at the other and spoke in a low voice, his tone carrying no urgency despite the surrounding destruction.

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  "It seems the gate is too well-guarded. Forcing our way in would be suicide."

  His companion nodded in agreement, his fingers tightening slightly around the hilt of his sword. "Then we proceed with the second plan—targeting their ration supply."

  A flicker of thought passed between them as they exchanged glances. The first guard exhaled slowly before muttering, "That won’t be easy either. The supply stores are just as heavily guarded. Unless the general himself sends men to escort someone in, no one will be allowed near."

  The second guard ran a gloved hand through his hair, frustration evident despite his composed exterior. "Troublesome," he murmured, his gaze flickering toward the distant flames. After a moment, he let out a quiet chuckle, his voice laced with a dangerous edge. "No matter. We’ll regroup with the others and come up with a plan."

  Before moving, the two men shared a final look. Then, with silent agreement, they turned toward the surrounding buildings.

  "Let’s make sure the flames don’t die down too soon."

  Without hesitation, they moved swiftly, igniting torches and setting them to the dry wooden structures nearby. The fire spread eagerly, consuming everything it touched. As more buildings were set ablaze, the flames grew higher, illuminating the alley in a hellish glow.

  Amid the fortress’s chaos, these men moved unseen, the destruction they left behind masking their true purpose.

  The two men slipped away from the alley, blending seamlessly into the chaos of the fortress streets. Soldiers—fully occupied with quelling the raging fires—rushed past them, shouting orders as they carried buckets of water. The flames roared defiantly, casting flickering shadows across the stone walls, while the distant clash of steel against steel echoed through the night. Amidst this bedlam, enemy infiltrators moved unnoticed, their presence lost in the confusion.

  Navigating through the fortress, the disguised men arrived at a secluded, dimly lit corner, where a small group of figures had already gathered inside a nondescript building. One by one, more infiltrators entered, their movements silent and precise. The air inside was tense, yet no words were exchanged at first—only glances of understanding passed between them.

  At the center of the room, the leader finally spoke, his voice calm but edged with frustration.

  "I didn’t expect them to reinforce the gate so heavily. Breaking through is no longer an option."

  The group remained silent, processing his words. He exhaled sharply and continued.

  "We move to the next plan—targeting their rations and supply stores. But even that won’t be easy. The guards at the storage area won’t be distracted for long, and only those with proper authorization can gain access. Even if we set fire to the nearby buildings, those stationed at the supply depot won’t abandon their post. If anything, they'll be even more alert, ready to strike at the first sign of trouble."

  His gaze swept over his men, gauging their reactions.

  "We need a different approach."

  The flickering light of a single lantern cast their shadows against the walls as the group fell into thought, knowing that one misstep could cost them everything.

  The leader swept his gaze over the group, his expression unreadable. The room remained silent for a long moment before he finally spoke.

  "If anyone has an idea, step forward. If you have a plan, now is the time to speak."

  The group exchanged glances, uncertainty flickering in their eyes. Then, after a brief hesitation, a young man stepped forward. Though not particularly tall, his posture was straight, and his sharp features bore the discipline of a seasoned warrior. His eyes were steady as he addressed the leader.

  "Sir, I believe we should retreat."

  A ripple of surprise passed through the group. Some furrowed their brows, others exchanged doubtful glances. The leader’s frown deepened slightly, barely noticeable in the dim light, but he motioned for the young man to continue.

  "They already know we've infiltrated," the young man said, his voice firm. "The only reason they haven’t launched a search is because they’re overwhelmed with the battle and the fire. If we stage a retreat—just enough for them to see—we might be able to make them believe the infiltration has failed. This could force them to call off the attack altogether."

  The other listened intently as he pressed on.

  "However, not all of us would actually leave. Those of us with strong concealment skills can remain hidden inside the fortress. Once their defenses relax, we’ll have a better chance to sabotage their rations and supply stores without drawing immediate suspicion."

  A hushed stillness settled over the room as the group processed his words. The plan was risky, but it had merit. The leader studied the young man, his fingers tapping lightly against his arm in thought. Then, with a slow nod, he finally spoke.

  "Not a bad plan. But execution will be everything. We’ll need to be convincing—and fast."

  The decision had been made. Now, it was only a matter of seeing it through.

  The leader fell silent for a moment, his brows furrowed in deep thought. The flickering firelight cast long shadows across his face, emphasizing the weight of the decision before him. Finally, he exhaled and spoke, his voice steady yet laced with caution.

  "Your plan is well thought out, but the enemy will not lower their guard so easily. Deception takes time, and time is something we don’t have. The longer we delay in taking the fortress, the more likely their reinforcements will arrive."

  He swept his gaze over the gathered men, his sharp eyes searching for any sign of hesitation.

  "If anyone else has a better plan, speak now. If not, we move forward with what we have."

  The room remained silent, tension thick in the air. The leader's fingers drummed against his belt as he waited for a response, knowing that the next decision would determine the fate of their mission.

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