Chapter 92 – The First Shadow
A thin drizzle fell over Eisenwald. The watchtowers burned dim torches, their flames shivering in the damp wind. Insects chirped in the marsh, filling the silence with a haunting chorus.
The guards were tense, their eyes sharper than usual. Fenrir had warned them: intruders were lurking.
On the eastern tower, a young sentry whispered to his comrade:
> "The young lord was right… nights like this always feel heavy."
Suddenly, an owl burst from the trees. A shadow darted across the fence line. A man in a hood leapt forward, trying to scale the wooden barrier.
Clang! A hidden bell rang—the tripwire snapped.
"Intruder!" a guard shouted.
Chaos erupted, but discipline held. Within seconds, five soldiers encircled the stranger. He slashed wildly with a poisoned dagger, but a spear haft smashed into his ribs, sending him crashing to the mud.
Fenrir arrived moments later. His crimson eyes gleamed faintly, aura stirring like embers beneath his skin. He studied the bound figure coldly.
> "Take him below," Fenrir ordered. "He'll talk."
---
The dungeon smelled of damp stone and rusted iron. Chains rattled as the hooded man was thrown into a chair, wrists bound.
Fenrir sat opposite him, calm, his fingers tapping the table. Lyra Nightshade stood in the corner, blade glinting faintly. Viktor Redmane leaned against the wall, arms crossed.
Fenrir's voice was quiet but firm.
> "Your name."
The spy sneered and stayed silent.
Fenrir tapped the table again.
> "Who sent you?"
The man spat blood and laughed harshly.
> "You think a child's glare will make me tremble?"
A single nod. Viktor stepped forward, driving his fist into the man's stomach. He doubled over, gasping. Lyra pressed her dagger lightly against his throat.
Her whisper was a snake's hiss.
> "This isn't about whether you talk. It's about how much pain you want before you do."
Fenrir leaned forward, his crimson eyes unblinking.
> "I've walked through blood and fire. I know the line between courage and stupidity. Speak—before I remove your tongue."
The silence stretched. Finally, the spy coughed, blood on his lips.
> "…I'm from Hohenberg. Our lord doesn't intend to let this swamp fester."
Fenrir's gaze sharpened. Hohenberg. A baron of the north, powerful, with fertile lands.
> "And are you alone?"
The man chuckled bitterly.
> "Alone? Hah. You've barely seen the beginning. Do you think I'm the only one who's slipped through your gates?"
Viktor bristled, but Fenrir raised a hand. That was enough.
> "Take him away. I have what I need."
---
At dawn, the council gathered. Markus, Selene, Roland, Lyra, and Viktor all sat around the long table.
Fenrir delivered the report in clipped tones.
> "The spy confessed. He serves Baron Hohenberg. This is no petty thief—it was a planned infiltration."
Markus frowned, drumming his fingers on the wood.
> "Hohenberg is no minor baron. If he moves against us, others may follow."
Lyra's lips curved.
> "The spy hinted there are more already inside our borders. He wasn't bluffing."
Roland growled, his voice like grinding stone.
> "Then we must assume sabotage. Food, supply routes, even morale—they'll strike where it hurts most."
Fenrir looked at them one by one, his voice calm but edged.
> "This was just the first. There will be more. Starting today, every gate is to be searched twice. I want three more spies dragged from the shadows. Use every tool you must."
No one argued. The room was heavy with unspoken fear—and sharpened resolve.
---
That night, Fenrir stood alone on the western tower. The marsh wind carried the stench of mud and rain. His hand tightened on the railing.
"One spy is only the spear's tip. There are others. Four barons will not sit idle while Eisenwald rises. Very well. If they choose this path, I will break their blades before they pierce my heart."
The moon bathed him in silver. His crimson aura flickered faintly, like smoldering lava.
The first shadow had been caught. The hunt had just begun.
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