Night covered Velmora like a burial cloth.
The ruined city stood beneath the dark sky, silent except for the crackling of distant fire. Smoke drifted through broken walls and collapsed streets, turning the moonlight gray.
Kaelan Var lay motionless atop a rocky slope overlooking the city.
Beside him, Sergeant Dren adjusted the cloak covering his armor.
"I still think this is a terrible idea," Dren whispered.
Kaelan kept his eyes forward.
"Yes."
Dren blinked.
"…That's it?"
"Yes."
A faint grin appeared on Dren's face.
"At least you're honest."
Below them—
Velmora breathed like a wounded beast.
Patrol fires burned along the streets. Guards moved across the walls with discipline unfamiliar to ordinary rebels.
Kaelan studied every movement carefully.
Shift changes.
Torch patterns.
Patrol routes.
Nothing random.
Everything organized.
Corven.
Whoever he was…
He understood war.
Behind them, the rest of Kaelan's men remained hidden within the forest beyond the ridge. No fires. No unnecessary sound.
Only waiting.
Kaelan lowered the small spyglass slowly.
"There," he murmured.
Dren followed his gaze.
The western district.
Unlike the rest of the city, that area still had light.
Too much light.
Too many guards.
"That's important," Dren whispered.
Kaelan nodded.
"Yes."
A moment passed.
Then Kaelan stood.
"We're going inside."
Dren stared at him.
"…Inside?"
Kaelan began tightening the straps around his sword.
"We need information."
"We have scouts for that."
"I need to see it myself."
Dren sighed heavily.
"One day your decisions are going to kill me."
Kaelan glanced at him.
"Probably."
An hour later—
The two of them slipped through the ruins beneath the outer wall.
The breach left by the siege had never been repaired. Burned stone and broken timber created enough shadow to hide movement.
Kaelan moved carefully.
Quietly.
Every step measured.
Dren followed close behind, muttering under his breath.
"I miss the mountains already."
The inside of Velmora was worse than expected.
Bodies still remained in some streets.
Not soldiers.
Civilians.
Burned homes lined the roads. Doors broken. Shops emptied.
No life.
Only fear.
Kaelan crouched beside the remains of a cart.
His jaw tightened slightly.
"This wasn't necessary."
Dren looked around silently.
"No," he admitted.
"It wasn't."
Voices approached.
Both men disappeared into shadow instantly.
A patrol passed by moments later.
Four soldiers.
Armor mismatched—but weapons clean.
Disciplined.
One of them laughed quietly.
"The executions are tomorrow."
Another spat onto the street.
"Good. Less mouths to feed."
The group moved on.
Dren's face darkened.
"…Executions?"
Kaelan's eyes narrowed.
"Keep moving."
They advanced deeper into the city.
The western district grew louder.
More guards.
More movement.
Then they saw it.
The central plaza.
Kaelan stopped completely.
For a moment—
Neither man spoke.
Wooden posts had been raised across the square.
Dozens of prisoners knelt beneath them.
Imperial soldiers.
Civilians.
Even children.
Bound.
Guarded.
Waiting.
Dren's voice dropped low.
"…Bastards."
At the center of the plaza stood a platform.
And on it—
A man.
Tall.
Dark armor.
Hands behind his back.
Watching the prisoners silently.
Even from a distance—
Kaelan knew immediately.
Corven.
There was nothing wild about him.
Nothing chaotic.
He stood completely still, like a commander reviewing troops before battle.
Calm.
Controlled.
Cold.
One of the guards approached the platform nervously.
"The northern patrol returned, sir."
Corven didn't turn.
"And?"
"No sign of imperial reinforcements."
A pause.
Then—
"They'll come eventually," Corven said calmly.
His voice carried across the square.
"And when they do…"
He looked toward the ruined gates.
"…they'll see what happens to those who resist."
Dren clenched his fists.
"We should kill him now."
Kaelan remained still.
"No."
"You sure?"
"Yes."
Kaelan's eyes never left the plaza.
"Not yet."
Then—
A child among the prisoners began crying.
Small.
Terrified.
One of the rebel guards walked over angrily.
"Quiet!"
The child didn't stop.
The guard raised his hand—
Kaelan moved before thinking.
One step forward.
Hand already reaching for his blade.
Dren grabbed his arm instantly.
"Kaelan."
The name alone stopped him.
Barely.
For one dangerous second—
Kaelan truly considered attacking.
Right there.
Outnumbered.
Inside enemy territory.
Then Corven turned slightly.
Not enough to fully face them.
But enough.
His eyes moved toward the shadows.
Toward where Kaelan stood hidden.
Silence.
Kaelan felt it immediately.
He knows.
Not exactly where.
Not exactly who.
But enough.
Corven spoke again without raising his voice.
"Search the area."
Guards immediately spread through the plaza.
Dren cursed under his breath.
"Time to go."
Kaelan didn't move.
Still watching Corven.
Studying him.
Then Corven said something quietly—
So quietly that only the nearest guards should have heard it.
But Kaelan caught the words.
"Tell the men to leave the western breach unguarded tonight."
Dren frowned.
"…What?"
Kaelan's eyes sharpened instantly.
No.
That wasn't a mistake.
It was bait.
Corven knew someone was inside the city.
And now—
He was setting a trap.
Kaelan stepped backward slowly.
"We leave. Now."
The search patrols were already getting closer.
Torches moving through the ruins.
Voices echoing between broken walls.
Kaelan and Dren slipped through the darkness carefully.
One wrong sound.
One wrong step—
And they would die inside Velmora.
Behind them, the city continued burning.
Cold.
Silent.
Waiting.
Only after they escaped beyond the outer breach did Dren finally exhale.
"…I hate this city."
Kaelan looked back toward the distant fires.
"No."
His voice was quieter now.
More focused.
"You hate the man controlling it."
For the first time since leaving the frontier—
Kaelan had found someone different.
Not a raider.
Not a rebel chief.
A strategist.
Someone who could see the battlefield the same way he did.
And that made Corven far more dangerous than Maroth had ever been.
Far behind the ruined walls of Velmora—
Corven stood alone in the plaza.
The prisoners remained silent beneath the torches.
One of his officers approached.
"No intruders found."
Corven looked toward the western darkness beyond the city.
Then slowly—
He smiled.
"They were here."
The officer stiffened.
"You're certain?"
Corven's eyes remained fixed on the night.
"Yes."
"A real commander has arrived."
…
Velmora is no longer just a battlefield.It has become a game between two commanders. ⚔️