The forest erupted at sunrise.
Not with battle cries—
Not with marching—
But with panic.
Warguard horns blasted again and again, not in proud fanfare but in frantic alarm. Birds scattered into the sky. Ridgebrook's villagers jolted awake, spilling from their homes with fear in their eyes.
Orin climbed the barricade beside me, breath sharp. "Chief… something's happening."
"Yeah," I said, gripping the wall. "Vlad's gift just got unwrapped."
The shouting from deep in the forest grew louder—chaotic, uncoordinated, furious. Horses screamed. Metal clanged. Men shouted orders that were being ignored or drowned out.
Then the first messenger ran across the treeline, waving his arms wildly and yelling something we couldn't hear.
Lira shivered. "They found him… the survivor."
Vlad stood near the gate, expression calm, almost pleased. "He lived long enough. Good."
Orin swallowed. "Gods help whoever's dealing with him right now…"
Vantor arrived at the ravine shortly after dawn.
He rode fast, cloak whipping behind him, fury radiating from him like heat from a forge. His officers followed, nervous and silent.
When he reached the broken supply line, he stopped—and for the first time since this siege began, he was completely still.
The scene was brutal.
Wagons smashed.
Grain spilled into the water.
Barrels punctured and drained.
Bridge supports snapped and twisted.
Axes and tools scattered like toys.
And at the center…
The tortured survivor.
The man was tied upright to the wheel, his head sagging, the nail still driven through his turban into his skull. His legs hung at sickening angles. Every breath was a choked rattle.
The Warguard parted, horrified, when Vantor approached.
One officer bowed. "Milord… he is barely alive. We do not know who—"
Vantor held up a hand.
He crouched slowly in front of the tortured soldier.
The man lifted his eyes with a trembling, blood-soaked stare.
He recognized Vantor.
And he whimpered like a broken child.
"M… milord… he… he w-was a demon…"
Vantor's jaw clenched so hard the tendons stood out.
"Who?" he asked quietly.
"He…" The man coughed blood. "He… h–he smiled, milord."
Vantor's face darkened.
"Describe him."
"P–pale. Eyes like… knives. He… he killed the others without… without breath… and he—"
The soldier began to convulse.
A healer rushed forward. "Milord! He's dying!"
Vantor rose slowly.
"Let him."
The man's choked gasps faded as his head slumped.
Silence spread like a disease.
An officer approached cautiously. "Milord… this is no ordinary killer. He crippled our supply line, destroyed our rations, terrorized our men—without raising alarm. We should consider withdrawing—"
Vantor backhanded him so hard the man fell into the dirt.
"You suggest we flee," Vantor said coldly, "because one ghost in human form frightens you?"
Another officer knelt, trembling. "Milord, he—he killed without being seen. He moved through our camp like shadow. No Rank 1 should—"
Vantor snapped, "HE IS NOT RANKED. He is a man. A man with skills. A man who bleeds."
He kicked the broken wheel, sending dust into the air.
"But he has forgotten one thing."
His face twisted into something vicious.
"I do not fear monsters."
He turned sharply.
"DOUBLE THE SURVEILLANCE. BLOCK THE WATER COMPLETELY. ROTATE ARMOR NIGHTLY. AND BRING ME THE RANK TWO CAPTAINS."
His voice was steady.
But his eyes burned.
"We will break Ridgebrook—and we will do it slowly."
Back at the village, torches suddenly multiplied in the forest. Lines of Warguard formed tighter patrols. More archers appeared. Horses moved in frantic patterns.
Orin cursed. "They're doubling the siege."
"They're scared," Lira said.
"No," I corrected. "They're angry."
The Summoner's Ledger pulsed:
[ENEMY MORALE: FURIOUS]
[ENEMY COMMANDER: ENRAGED]
[SIEGE INTENSITY: INCREASING]
Great.
Vlad stepped beside me at the wall, hands clasped behind his back.
"He is wounded," Vlad said. "Not in flesh—here." He tapped his chest. "Pride bleeds worse than bodies."
"That doesn't make me feel better," I muttered.
"It should," Vlad said. "An angry enemy makes mistakes."
He paused.
"But also kills faster."
I swallowed.
Lira stepped gently beside me. "Liam… what now?"
I looked out at the flickering torches forming a tightening ring around Ridgebrook.
"We survive," I said. "And we prepare for whatever he does next."
The forest crackled with fresh torches.
The siege had escalated.
Vantor's wrath was coming.
And we were still two weeks away from our next summon