At last, Eleanor and her team reached the mountain's summit. There, carved into the jagged rock, loomed the fortress they had glimpsed from below. The castle rose like a dark crown against the red sky, its towering walls jagged with age yet impossibly solid. From afar, it had seemed impregnable.
But as they crossed the wide stone bridge to its gate, it became clear that the battle had already been fought.
The main courtyard was littered with bodies… orc corpses, troll carcasses, even the twisted remains of goblin hounds. The stench of blood and smoke clung to the air. Cadets moved cautiously through the ruins, weapons drawn more out of habit than necessity. When Eleanor hailed one group, she learned what had transpired here… the castle had already been purged. No monsters remained alive.
Only one challenge was left… The Troll King!
