CHAPTER 439: GET DROSMIR (1)

"You’ve been busy, Sir Whinin," Kroiph said as he strode toward the carriage Kael perched upon, his single sharp eye sweeping over the parking area, taking in the carnage in silence.

Kael slung his bow across his shoulder and hopped down from the carriage in a fluid motion. His own eyes flicked briefly to the disciplined line of soldiers standing just behind their commander. "I could say the same of you, Commander Kroiph."

Kroiph let out a short breath, a sound between a scoff and a laugh. "Well, I had to bring the best. The King himself demanded this operation. And my men—" his voice dropped, a deep rumble brimming with steel—"are craving to spill the blood of those who dare disregard justice."

Kael’s lips curled into a faint smirk, his gaze flicking once more toward the eager soldiers before him. "That’s good... because the men they’ll face are just as bloodthirsty."

Turning, Kael raised his hand toward the yawning black entrance of the hallway ahead. The two lifeless guards he had felled earlier still lay sprawled by the door, their bodies silent sentinels of what awaited within.

"Inside that passage I believe are men trained for nothing but brutality," Kael continued, his tone flat yet edged. "Fanatics—ready to fight to the death for a cause none but themselves would understand. There might be a hundred of them, perhaps more. And these halls—" he gestured deeper into the shadows—"they twist and mislead. One wrong turn and you’ll end up in a den of savage guards, cornered before you realize it."

Kroiph’s brow furrowed, but his voice was steady. "I trust you’ve found a way to navigate those halls?"

"Of course," Kael replied without hesitation. "My team and I studied the layout in detail. Every corridor, every choke point. We’ll get through."

"Good." Kroiph’s eye narrowed, his expression hard. "Then let us waste no time. Once inside, when battle breaks, I’ll have ten men peel off to join you. Aid the Princess and your comrades. See that Drosmir himself does not escape."

Without even looking back, Kroiph barked, "Square One—you will join him."

"Yes, sir!" came the unified reply from a line of ten knights, their voices tight with resolve.

Kael gave a curt nod at their discipline. "Perfect." Turning away, he strode toward the carriage they had ambushed earlier and crouched low, reaching beneath the driver’s seat. His hand found what he sought—a second quiver of arrows. He drew it out, removed the last few shafts from his depleted quiver, and slotted them carefully into the fresh one. Slinging both quiver and bow back across his shoulders, Kael straightened with a cold determination etched on his face.

"Mages," he called, his voice sharp, "keep the Silent spell active. No sound leaves this place."

And with that command, Kael moved forward, taking point as his boots struck the stone. Commander Kroiph fell into step just behind, the steel tide of a hundred men flowing after him, their march swallowed in enchanted silence as they passed through the dark threshold and vanished into the treacherous, twisting halls.

***

With Kael leading them through the hallways, they had moved for 200 meters exactly when two guards were spotted, one at each side of the hallway.

Without hesitation, Kael had killed them on sight and kept the group moving.

It was the same process for some time—after every 200 meters, two guards were found and eliminated on sight. However, that changed when the army had run into lined-up guards ready to engage.

The sound of boots striking the stone floor echoed down the corridor as a formation of nearly hundred guards spread themselves across the wide hall, shields raised and spears angled forward. Their eyes were sharp, their stances disciplined, and unlike the scattered patrols before, these men had been waiting.

"Form up!" Kroiph bellowed, his deep voice carrying over the clash of steel as the front line of guards surged. His soldiers roared back, stepping into a wedge formation, shields clashing as spears met spears. The impact of the two groups colliding was like thunder—metal screeched, wood splintered, and bodies slammed against one another in the narrow space.

Kael, unflinching, broke away to the right. His figure blurred as he cut through the shadows of torchlight, his blade flashing in a ruthless arc. The first guard never even realized he’d been struck, dropping with a sharp gurgle as Kael slipped past him. Another lunged, spear thrust aimed for his ribs, but Kael pivoted, sliding just past the point, driving his dagger into the man’s throat in one fluid motion.

Meanwhile, Kroiph and his men clashed violently with the bulk of the enemy. A guard’s spear snapped against Kroiph’s shield, only for him to smash his armored shoulder forward, knocking the man off balance. He followed with a savage cleave of his axe, splitting helm and skull in one brutal swing. His soldiers surged in around him, blades cutting, shields ramming, their momentum a storm of steel that pressed back against the disciplined line of defenders.

But these guards were no cowards. They fought tooth and nail, their shield wall holding steady against the initial crush. One soldier hooked his spear beneath a knight’s shield, yanking it downward just in time for another guard’s sword to plunge into the knight’s exposed chest. The man cried out, collapsing in a heap, blood spreading across the stone. The line staggered, but Kroiph roared in fury, rallying his men.

"Push through! Crush them!" he barked, slamming his axe into another guard’s shield so hard it splintered apart. The knight beside him drove a sword through the gap, piercing the man’s stomach and ripping it free as the guard crumpled to the ground.

Kael, meanwhile, had already bypassed most of the melee. His ten knights followed his lead with the same cold precision, weaving between clashing bodies, cutting down only those directly in their path. A guard lunged at one of them, but the knight parried the strike and opened the man from neck to chest in a clean, practiced motion. Another knight tripped a guard, stomped his throat, and moved on without even a glance back.

The hall was filled with the cacophony of steel ringing against steel, cries of pain, and the heavy thud of bodies striking stone. Kroiph’s men fought brutally, pressing forward step by bloody step, even as spears pierced their armor and swords hacked into their flesh. One knight locked his shield against two guards at once, teeth bared as he held them back long enough for a comrade to thrust his sword past his shoulder and drop one. Another knight was dragged to the ground, stabbed three times before he managed to pull a dagger and ram it into the neck of the man above him. Both lay still as the fight surged over them.

Kael’s group had already slipped beyond the worst of it, leaving Kroiph and his men in a whirlwind of violence. Kael glanced back briefly—just enough to see Kroiph split another man nearly in two—before his gaze hardened and he turned away. The mission was all that mattered. Without a word, he led his ten knights deeper into the hallway, the sounds of brutal combat fading behind them as they moved swiftly to rejoin Jorin and the others.

***

Within moments, Kael and the ten knights arrived at the massive double door, the air thick with the iron tang of blood. Jorin and Myla stood guard before it, their boots planted firmly among a litter of slain guards. At the sound of footsteps rushing toward them, both had turned sharply, weapons raised, their bodies tense with readiness. But when Kael came into view, their expressions eased, though the tension in their stance never quite left.

"Where’s Commander Kroiph and his men?" Myla asked at once, lowering her blade but keeping her eyes on Kael.

"Holding back Drosmir’s forces," Kael replied, his tone clipped and straightforward.

"Great," Jorin muttered, rolling his shoulders as his gaze swept over the ten armored knights at Kael’s back. "And I assume these guys are sticking with us for whatever nightmare waits behind this door, yeah?"

"Yeah," Kael said simply. "They’re efficient."

"Good," Jorin said, letting out a breath as he gestured with his weapon toward the corpses littered around him. "Because I’m kinda beat from dealing with these ones."

Kael’s eyes flicked from the door to the bodies and back again. "So how do we enter?"

Jorin shrugged. "I guess we just barge in."

Kael frowned, his tone edged with caution. "That’s risky. By now Drosmir knows something’s happening. It’s very possible he’s got men stationed right behind these doors, waiting to tear apart anything that walks through."

"You’re right, Kael," Myla said, voice calm and steady. "But Serah and Elira are still in there. Whatever danger lies behind those doors, Serah will find a way to adapt. And besides..." she raised her weapon, her lips curling into the faintest smile, "we aren’t amateurs."

"Exactly," Jorin said with a proud grin at his lover. "What she said. So—" he raised his brows, eyes glittering with reckless resolve—"we barge in."

Kael paused, exhaling slowly through his nose, his gaze narrowing on the tall double doors. He drew a single arrow, holding it steady in one hand while his short sword remained firm in the other. "...Fine," he muttered at last. "Let’s barge in, then."

"Alright," Jorin said, his smirk returning. "But before that..." He lifted a hand with a subtle motion, and a few paces back the stone floor shuddered. The ground heaved upward, earthen walls sealing the corridor behind them with a rumbling crash.

"In case Drosmir’s men decide to come at us from behind," Jorin said casually. Then he turned back to the double door, his smirk sharpening into a grin.

"Now then... let’s barge in."