The moon's sliver hung low over the Silverfang Hold's front gates as Zephyr Ardent led his ragtag company of riders into the chill night. Hooves clattered on stone, each rhythmic beat echoing like a war drum against the stillness. Behind him, Rook and Rennan flanked the hybrid scouts, their lanterns casting long, vigilant shadows. Reyna rode close to Zephyr's side, eyes bright despite exhaustion from her stabilization ceremony.
Ahead stretched the winding causeway skirting Aurex Bay. In the distance, Nightshade Manor's high walls loomed—an imposing fortress of black stone and iron spires, crowned by crimson lanterns that signaled distress. The Bloodwolf's heart tightened: a covenant-sanctioned clinic, now under siege by unknown forces.
They arrived at the manor's courtyard gate just before midnight. A single iron portcullis hung halfway, sparks still drifting from where its chains had been severed. Guard towers lay dark, their watchmen nowhere in sight.
Zephyr dismounted and pressed a palm to the foreboding gate. The rune beneath his skin pulsed in recognition of his pact. He murmured the unlocking phrase taught by Elara:
"Bloodwolf's bond, moon's decree—Open this way to sanctuary."
With a reluctant groan, the portcullis rattled upwards, revealing a courtyard strewn with overturned beds, broken ward crystals, and the telltale stains of Hemaleth—blood-magic remnants too fresh to be ignored.
Rook stepped forward, blade drawn. "They're testing our wards."
Zephyr nodded. "Stay alert. We don't know who—or what—we're facing."
They pressed inside, horses slipping on debris. Rennan and the scouts fanned out, securing the perimeter.
Inside, the main hall was bathed in sickly red lantern-light. Ward crystals embedded in the walls had shattered, their runic glow extinguished. A coven of spectral attackers—vampire enforcers twisted by rogue blood-rites—hovered in the corridor beyond, eyes glowing like embers.
Zephyr signaled Rennan. "Hold position."
He advanced alone, primer scroll strapped to his side, gauntlet humming with dormant power. At the corridor's threshold, he raised his voice:
"By blood's oath and moon's grace—be still, unlife, in your place!"
A hush fell. The spectral enforcers shuddered, their forms flickering. He unleashed a pulse of binding glyph energy: a silver net coiled around them, pinning them to the walls. They flailed, snarling, before dissolving into motes of shadow.
Zephyr exhaled, then beckoned the others forward. "Wards down but only by blood-rite. Someone opened the gates from inside."
Rook's blade slashed through lingering shadows. "Then they're on the third floor—where the node chamber sits."
They swept through the infirmary wing first. Beds lay overturned; bloodied bandages smeared the walls. A single healer—a young Covenant novice—cowered beneath a stained archway, clutching a fractured crystal.
Elara knelt beside her, voice gentle. "You're safe now. Tell us what happened."
The novice's voice trembled. "They came as patients… then the leader—she spoke of 'purifying fire.' They destroyed the ward crystals and opened a portal… creatures spilled through, and then the clinic was lost."
Zephyr's brow tightened. "A breach portal—powered by node energy." He pressed a shard of binding crystal to the nearest ward pedestal. The broken runes flared briefly then died. "They used the node beneath the manor."
He turned to Rennan. "Seal the infirmary. Rook, guard the novice. I'll move to the node chamber with Corin and Elara."
The manor's spiraled stair wound upward through a labyrinth of stone and blood-smeared tapestries. As they climbed, distant clangs and flickers of torchlight betrayed the presence of Covenant guards and rogue scouts searching for survivors.
Corin kept pace with Zephyr, holoprojector mapping their route. "The node chamber is two floors above the clinic—above the chapel." He swiped at the floor plan. "They'll have set wards against our overpowered strikes."
Elara murmured warding chants beneath her breath, drawing protective glyphs on their sleeves. "My wards will shield us—briefly."
They reached the landing outside the chapel doors—its carved doors blasted inward, pews overturned, hemaleth stains pooling on the marble floor. A low hum of blood-magic thrummed from the chamber beyond.
Beyond the chapel lay a sanctum carved from black obsidian and moonstone: the Node Chamber. At its center, a Sanguis Node pulsed with crimson energy, encased within metal bars etched with dark glyphs. Rogue technicians—Covenant traitors—crowded around, feeding the node synthetics from a bloodbag lattice.
Zephyr's chest tightened. This was the nexus of the assault. He stepped forward, gauntlet glowing.
A traitor turned—armored in corrupted Covenant gear—raising a blade. "You're too late, Bloodwolf!"
Rook and Rennan surged together, blades flashing. Zephyr planted his gauntlet on the node's bars and chanted Elara's purge:
"Node of blood and stolen rite—Seal your pulse in moon's own light!"
Crimson energy convulsed; the bars rattled. The traitors roared, lunging as the gothic metal heated—tearing through their cables. Zephyr yanked back, searing hemaleth sparks scattering. The node's hum faltered then stilled.
System Notification: "Node deactivated. Health of clinic restored."
Corin ripped out the bloodbag lattice, sealing the feeding conduits. Elara traced a final ward around the chamber door.
Rallying behind them, Rennan and Rook battled the remaining traitors. Zephyr charged the lead technician, gauntlet crackling with binding energy. He struck—night's razor edge—cleaving corrupted armor. The man collapsed, muttering pleas of regret.
Zephyr hesitated at the sight of shattered ambitions in the traitor's eyes. "Stand down," he said. "You can atone."
Rook dropped her blade. "Let him live."
The traitor nodded, tears leaking. "I… I was desperate."
Zephyr sheathed his gauntlet weapon. "We will rebuild this clinic—and guard against desperation."
They emerged from the chamber as dawn's first rays pierced stained windows, illuminating the upheaval. The infirmary's novices, guided by Rook and Elara, had already begun restoring wards. The clinic's patients—once terror-stricken—now gazed in wonder at the returned sunrise.
Zephyr addressed the gathered healers and scouts. "Let this be a lesson: even in unity, shadows can lurk. But we stand ready to root them out—and forgive those who seek redemption."
He lifted the primer scroll high. "The Bloodwolf Healing Accord endures—and so shall we."
A cheer rose from the recovered clinic staff and hybrid scouts alike. Reyna, standing at Zephyr's side, smiled through a tear.
As the sun crowned the manor's spires, Zephyr and his companions rode back to the Hold—tired but unbroken. The wounds of Nightshade Manor's siege would heal, and the Accord's clinics would thrive.
Elara fell into step with Zephyr. "You guided hearts and wards alike."
Zephyr nodded, gaze ahead to the Hold's distant towers. "Blood and moon are bound—yet it's our choices that shape the world." He placed a hand on Reyna's shoulder. "Thank you—for your courage and truth."
She leaned into his shoulder, finding strength in his presence. "I have found my home."
Above, the moon dipped behind the dawn sky—its promise fulfilled in unity forged from siege and sacrifice. Beneath its fading light, the Bloodwolf and his allies rode onward, guardians of a fragile peace, ready for the challenges of Chapter Twenty-Eight.