Jade Reaches – Edge of the Old Valyrian Fortress
The sun had nearly set behind the thick jungle canopy, painting the sky in shades of blood and fire. The campfire flickered, casting long shadows over the tired but alert faces of Kaelarys's forces. The air was thick with anticipation and the subtle hum of magic weaving through the leaves.
Kaelarys sat cross-legged near the fire, his fingers absently tracing the cold steel of his Valyrian sword. Nyxarys, his dragon, rested nearby, her massive head low but eyes ever watchful. The system's soft glow shimmered over his palm—the interface pulsing as if alive.
Lyanna approached, her footsteps silent on the forest floor. "Kaelarys, the scouts report the fortress walls are ancient, but formidable. The gatehouse is guarded by enchanted sentries—and there are patrols around the perimeter."
Kaelarys lifted his gaze, dark eyes burning with resolve. "Magic guards… We'll need to disrupt their wards before the attack."
She crouched beside him, her expression tense. "I've seen their patrols. They move in pairs, heavily armed but wary. I suggest a diversion—Nyxarys and I can create a distraction on the east side while the rest of the team infiltrates from the west."
Varyn, sharpening his dagger nearby, nodded thoughtfully. "A sound plan. But we need someone to disable the wards. That's where your magic tome comes in, Kaelarys."
Kaelarys smiled thinly. "The tome's knowledge will be invaluable. But the wards here are ancient and complex. I'll need to focus all my power—and time is short."
He glanced at the system prompt:
Quest Update:
Disable Fortress Wards — Time Limit: 3 Days
Coordinate Diversion — Essential for Success
The camp fell into quiet preparation. Warriors strapped on armor, slaves-turned-soldiers checked their weapons, and the Verdant Claw tribesmen whispered prayers to their gods. The tension was thick, like a drawn bowstring ready to release.
Kaelarys stood and addressed his commanders. "Tonight, we move. Remember, stealth and precision. No unnecessary bloodshed unless it's unavoidable."
Lyanna's eyes flashed. "And if they resist?"
Kaelarys's voice dropped, fierce as fire. "Then they will learn the price of defying the last Dragonlord."
As dusk deepened into night, the army moved like shadows through the jungle toward the fortress's western approach. Kaelarys led a small elite unit, their faces painted with dark streaks, breaths shallow and steady.
Near the gate, they paused, listening to the soft clank of armored footsteps and the low murmur of enchanted wards humming like living things. The air crackled with ancient magic.
Kaelarys muttered an incantation, the Valyrian tome glowing in his hands. His fingers traced complex runes, his voice a low chant barely audible.
Suddenly, a pulse of shadow shot from his palm, snaking across the walls. The wards flickered, then dimmed.
At that moment, a roar split the night as Nyxarys launched into the sky, flames roaring from her throat. Lyanna led the aerial assault, her sword gleaming as she sliced through patrols distracted by the sudden inferno.
The diversion worked perfectly. Guards rushed toward the east, their shouts echoing.
Kaelarys signaled his team forward, slipping inside the fortress gates now exposed and vulnerable. The inside was a sprawling maze of stone corridors, crumbling towers, and old statues—monuments to the lost Valyrian glory.
They moved carefully, eyes sharp. Suddenly, a patrol rounded a corner, swords drawn.
"Ambush!" whispered one of Kaelarys's men, but it was too late.
Steel clashed in the dim light, Kaelarys at the center, his sword weaving a deadly dance. The system's combat interface glowed, helping him chain moves with lethal grace. One guard fell, then another, until silence reclaimed the hall.
Kaelarys wiped sweat from his brow and looked ahead.
"Move quickly. We have to find the armory before reinforcements arrive."
The deeper they went, the heavier the air felt, as if the fortress itself resented their presence. They passed ancient murals depicting dragons breathing fire over armies and kings ruling with iron fists.
Finally, a massive iron door barred their way. Varyn worked quickly to pick the lock, sweat beading on his forehead.
"Got it," he whispered, pushing the door open.
Inside lay rows of gleaming Valyrian steel—swords, daggers, and armor, shimmering with an eerie light.
Kaelarys's eyes widened. "This is a treasure beyond price."
He lifted a sword, its balance perfect. "This will be mine."
Suddenly, the ground trembled. Outside, the sound of war horns shattered the silence.
"They're coming back," Lyanna's voice crackled through the magical communicator.
Kaelarys's heart pounded.
"We take what we can and get out—fast."
As the team grabbed as much as they could carry, Kaelarys reached into his ring and pulled out a small obsidian shard pulsing with dark energy.
"This will cover our retreat," he muttered, activating a shadow barrier that sealed the door behind them.
They raced through corridors as enemy footsteps thundered closer. At the gate, Nyxarys awaited, breathing fire to clear the path.
Kaelarys mounted swiftly, turning to his comrades.
"Hold on tight. This isn't over."
The fortress faded behind them, a silhouette of defiance against the breaking dawn. Their victory was hard-won, but it had come at a cost.
As the fleet regrouped, Kaelarys looked toward the horizon, thoughts racing.
The war for Valyria's legacy has only just begun. Every battle, every alliance, every stolen artifact brings me closer to my destiny.
End of Chapter 29