Chapter Twenty-Six: Council of Shadows
The council chamber of the Hollow was quiet, save for the soft scratching of pens against parchment and the occasional low murmur from those standing near the walls. Torches lined the stone walls, their flames flickering across the faces of dwarves, elves, wolfkin, goblins, and a few of the humans who had stayed behind. The air smelled faintly of smoke, iron, and wood polish.
Kael stood at the center of the room, Umbra lying at his feet, ears twitching at every sound. Lyria stepped forward, bow slung across her back, quiver rattling slightly as she cleared her throat.
"I scouted the fourth overlord," Lyria began, eyes steady as she addressed the council. "It is not just an ogre or a simple monster. Its body is massive—larger than any we've faced before, with thick, layered scales that shimmer dark green and brown, blending almost perfectly with the swamp. Its limbs are long and powerful, tipped with claws capable of crushing stone. Its head is crowned with twisted horns, and its eyes… they are sharp, intelligent, calculating."
She paused, letting the council absorb the words. "It moves with purpose, commanding the swamp itself. Branches, roots, and murky waters are manipulated to slow intruders and trap prey. It has enslaved smaller monsters and humans alike, forcing them to guard its lair and attack anyone who approaches. The swamp around it is rigged with traps and poison, and it has a keen awareness of intruders. Every step we take will be anticipated, every attack planned for in advance."
Murmurs spread quickly through the council. Fenrik growled lowly, wolfkin ears pinned back. "It's a death sentence to try to face that thing head-on. We could lose half our village before even reaching it."
Thalos slammed his massive fist onto the table. "We can't just sit here! We need weapons, traps, preparation—fire, spikes, anything! We can overwhelm it with brute force if we hit hard enough!"
The dwarves shook their heads, voices rising. "No! Its strength and size would crush anyone who tries to storm it! Any direct attack is suicide. We need careful planning, fortified positions, ranged attacks first—nothing reckless!"
Even some of the wolfkin and goblins exchanged nervous glances, the gravity of Lyria's report settling like ice over their courage.
Kael held up a hand, shadows flickering faintly across the floor. "Enough." His voice cut through the rising argument, calm but unyielding. The chamber immediately quieted. "I understand your concerns. You've seen what Lyria reported. This overlord is dangerous. It is intelligent. It is massive. And yes—it could kill us if we act rashly."
He took a deep breath, letting Umbra shift slightly at his feet. "But we are not acting rashly. I have a plan—a methodical, precise way to engage this beast while minimizing risk to the Hollow and our people."
Kael turned, crimson eyes sweeping the council. "I will take the lead. I will enter the lair alone at first, drawing the overlord's attention and assessing its capabilities. My abilities—shadow and fire—are enough to hold it at bay initially. While I engage it, our strike teams, led by Thalos, Lyria, and Fenrik, will move to surround the swamp from multiple angles. Hunters, archers, and wolfkin will block every escape route. Goblins and dwarves will set traps and fortifications at key points we have scouted. We will strike in coordination, attacking from all sides, and dismantle its forces systematically."
He let the words sink in, scanning each face. "This isn't reckless. This isn't brute force. This is strategy. I am confident in my ability to engage it alone initially, and the team will reinforce me at the exact right moment. We will weaken it, dismantle its army, and destroy it before it can react."
Lyria stepped forward slightly, nodding. "If he can hold it long enough, the surrounding forces will be able to cut off reinforcements and prevent escape. We can control the battlefield, even with the swamp working against us."
Fenrik growled, still skeptical but less vocal. "It's… risky, but precise. If Kael can distract it long enough…"
Thalos clenched his fists, nodding reluctantly. "We'll be ready. No mistakes. Every move coordinated."
The dwarves and council elders exchanged glances, murmuring softly before nodding in agreement. Kael's logic and the precision of his plan eased their fears. "Very well," one of the elders said. "We trust your judgment. But be cautious. No one survives without careful execution."
Kael's shadow swirled faintly around him. "Caution is understood. Execution will be perfect. We will succeed. And the Hollow will endure, stronger than ever."
The council meeting adjourned, leaving Kael staring at a map spread across the central table. Each marker, each river bend, and each swamp pathway had been noted. Every trap, every potential ambush point, every possible approach had been accounted for.
Kael's crimson eyes glinted with determination. The final overlord was formidable, but the Hollow had grown stronger with every challenge. And Kael would see this one fall, just as he had seen all the others fall before it.