CHAPTER 114: THE OPEN TRAP

Commander Casper led the Winged delegation. He had replaced Commander Oryn after the latter’s death. The Jaded Lord did not show himself yet.

Alpha Carter represented the Kobolds. The pack leader moved with predatory grace, his body rippling with muscle, his tail sweeping the ground behind him. He was flanked by four of his strongest warriors, each one larger than Hrothgar and carrying weapons that looked capable of splitting boulders.

Lord Doveling came last, and alone. The Xyrrh leader’s compound eyes reflected the light in unsettling ways as his antenna twitched in what might have been amusement. He wore no weapons, carried no visible relics, and somehow projected more threat than all the others combined.

They met in the center of the clearing, in the empty space that had been left for the Stronghide.

"Karathra," Lord Doveling greeted her with a slight bow. "How unexpected. We had begun to think you wouldn’t.....make it. Infact we were about to organize a search party for you."

"The Abyssal land is dangerous," Karathra replied, keeping her voice carefully neutral. "We encountered... difficulties."

"Obviously." Casper’s eyes raked over their group, noting the wounds, the exhaustion, the blood-stained equipment. "Where’s your chief?"

"Scouting ahead. He’ll meet us at the core."

It was the lie they’d agreed on. Better to let the other banners think Galthor was still active, still a threat, rather than reveal his absence and appear even more vulnerable.

Casper’s expression suggested he didn’t believe her, but he didn’t challenge the claim. "And your mission? The Fiendish monster on your route?"

"Dead." Karathra gestured. "We harvested what we could. The core was valuable."

That got their attention. All three leaders’ eyes fixed on the bundles, and Karathra could see the calculations running behind their gazes. The Hive Fiend’s remains were worth a fortune. More than the Stronghide should have been able to claim, given their reputation and resources.

"Impressive," Alpha Carter rumbled. His tail swept the ground in what might have been approval or might have been anticipation. "Perhaps your banner is more capable than we gave you credit for."

"We do what must be done." Karathra forced herself to meet his eyes without flinching. "What about your missions? Did you encounter your Fiendish monsters?"

"We did." Lord Doveling’s antenna twitched. "Both eliminated, though not without cost. The Kobolds lost three warriors. The Winged People lost five."

"And the Xyrrh?"

"We adapt well to hostile environments." Lord Doveling’s tone was pleasant, but there was something underneath it, a warning, perhaps, or a threat. "We took no casualties."

Silence fell over the group. Karathra could feel the tension building, thick and heavy like the corrupt air around them. This was the moment. The point where things would either defuse or explode.

"So," she said carefully, "what’s the plan? How do we approach the core?"

The three leaders exchanged glances.

"There’s been a development," Lord Doveling said. "While we waited for your arrival, we scouted the approaches to the core. The seals are... more complex than anticipated."

"What kind of seals?"

"Ancient ones, from way before the Abyssal War." The Xyrrh leader’s voice remained pleasant, almost conversational. "They require specific conditions to open. Specific... sacrifices. Even now, Jaded Lord is still looking them over."

Karathra’s hand moved imperceptibly closer to her axe. "What kind of sacrifices?"

"Blood." Casper stepped forward, his wings spreading slightly in what was definitely a threat display. "Specifically, the blood of those who carry the Supreme Deity’s death-mark."

There it was. The trap, finally sprung.

"Barbarian blood," Karathra said flatly.

"Yes." Lord Doveling nodded, his antenna still twitching with that unsettling amusement. "An unfortunate requirement, but necessary. The seals were designed to respond only to that specific signature. Without it, the core remains closed. Without access to the core, this entire expedition has been worthless."

"You want to use us as keys."

"Not use," Alpha Carter corrected. His voice was almost gentle, as if he were explaining something to a child. "Require. There’s a difference. We don’t want this any more than you do, but the reality is simple, either barbarians open the seals, or none of us get what we came for."

"How much blood?" Brakthar asked. His voice was steady, but Karathra could hear the edge beneath it.

Lord Doveling tilted his head, considering. "Difficult to say with accuracy. The seals are old, their requirements unclear. But based on similar structures we’ve encountered..." He paused, as if doing calculations. "Probably all of you."

The words hung in the air like a death sentence.

"All of us," Karathra repeated. "You want to kill all of us to open a door."

"It’s not personal," Casper said. His hand was on his weapon now, no longer pretending friendliness. "It’s just necessity. The Abyssal core contains treasures beyond imagination, what are a few barbarian lives?"

"What are a few lives?" Hrothgar’s voice was a growl, deep and dangerous. His blood searching armor began to glow, responding to the violence in the air. "You’re talking about murdering us in cold blood."

"We’re talking about making the sacrifices necessary to complete our mission," Alpha Carter countered. "This expedition was always going to end this way. Surely you knew that? Surely your chief knew, which is why he’s not actually scouting, he abandoned you, didn’t he?"

"The Chief would never...." Ashclaw started.

"The Chief is dead or dying somewhere" Casper interrupted. "And you’re alone, exhausted, outnumbered five to one. This isn’t a negotiation for you, it is an execution."

Around them, the three camps sprang into action. Winged warriors took flight, circling overhead with weapons drawn.

Kobold soldiers formed ranks, cutting off escape routes. Xyrrh shadows coalesced into solid forms.

The masters of Stronghide were surrounded.

"Last chance," Lord Doveling said. His voice remained pleasant, but his stance had shifted to ready, dangerous, no longer pretending civility. "Surrender peacefully. Make this quick. Or resist, and we’ll take your blood anyway, but with significantly more pain involved."

Karathra looked at her masters. She saw fear in their eyes, yes, but also determination. Anger. The refusal to go quietly into death.

She thought of the Chief, somewhere in the depths of the earth, fighting his own battles. She thought of the villagers back at the Revolutionary base, waiting for news that would never come if the masters fell here. She thought of Unchanging Wrath, the god of anger, the god of the chained.

And she smiled.

"You want to know something funny?" she said. "We knew. We figured out your plan hours ago."

The three leaders exchanged glances, uncertainty flickering across their faces for the first time.

"And we came anyway," Karathra continued. She drew her axe in a smooth, practiced motion. "Because we’re not afraid of you. Because our Chief taught us something you’ve forgotten.....barbarians don’t break. We bend, we endure, we suffer. But we don’t break."

"Brave words," Casper sneered. "They won’t save you."

"Maybe not." Karathra raised her axe high, and her voice rang across the clearing. "But they’ll make damn good last words. FOR STRONGHIDE! FOR THE CHIEF! FOR UNCHANGING WRATH"

The masters roared their response, weapons flashing in the corrupt light.

And then the killing began.