Chapter 216 – A Message in Blood
The night was thick with fog, rolling low between the trees like smoke from some unseen fire. The forest was silent, save for the crunch of boots and the occasional creak of leather as weapons shifted against armor. Four figures moved like shadows among shadows—Kael at the front, Rogan close behind, Thalos and Fenrik spreading wide to cover their flanks.
This was not a patrol. This was not defense. This was vengeance, shaped into a blade and driven deep into enemy flesh.
The Iron Brand had grown bold, raiding camps and spilling blood. Tonight, Kael would answer.
They found the slaver camp before dawn.
It was smaller than Kael expected—two dozen men at most, huddled in makeshift tents with crude banners staked into the earth. Their fire had burned low, most of them snoring or muttering in their sleep, weapons stacked in careless piles. Scouts, no doubt, sent to harry the Hollow's borders and report back.
Rogan's lip curled in a silent snarl. "Pathetic," he whispered, his hand tightening around the hilt of his axe.
Kael raised a hand, silencing him. His eyes swept over the camp, cold and calculating. These weren't just men to kill. They were a canvas for the Hollow's warning.
He leaned close to his companions, voice low as stone grinding against stone. "We don't just slaughter them. We make them remember. We make the Iron Brand choke on fear before they ever see our walls."
Thalos frowned, though his voice carried no argument. "You mean to make an example."
Kael's eyes gleamed in the half-light. "Yes."
They struck like wolves.
Fenrik was the first into the camp, his spear flashing in the firelight as he drove it through the chest of a waking slaver. Rogan followed with a roar, his axe cleaving through flesh and bone, cutting down two men before they even reached for their blades.
Kael moved like shadow incarnate. His sword, the magisteel gift from the dwarves, drank the faint light of dawn as it cut through one man, then another. Shadows lashed from his free hand, binding throats, snapping necks, dragging terrified men screaming into the darkness.
Thalos worked with brutal precision, his blade biting through any who slipped past Kael and Rogan.
It was over in minutes.
Two dozen men lay dead or dying. The campfire hissed as blood pooled into the embers, smoke curling into the fog.
But Kael was not finished.
They dragged the bodies to the center of camp.
Rogan worked without hesitation, his face set in grim fury as he hoisted corpses onto sharpened stakes. Thalos arranged the weapons in mockery of discipline, a broken circle of steel pointing inward like a cage. Fenrik scattered ashes from the fire across the corpses' faces, erasing their features, leaving only masks of blackened ruin.
And Kael…
Kael carved the message.
With his shadows, he wove the bodies into a grotesque symbol—a spiral of limbs and torsos, centered around the Iron Brand's banner, which he stained black with his own chaotic flames. Above it, strung between two trees, he etched words into the bark, the letters burning white-hot with magic until they glowed in the darkness:
"The Hollow does not forgive."
When he stepped back, the others stared at the sight in silence. Even Rogan, whose thirst for blood was fiercest, swallowed hard. The display was horrifying. Cruel. And utterly unforgettable.
Thalos spoke first, his voice low. "Anyone who finds this… will never forget it."
"That's the point," Kael replied, his voice quiet but iron-hard. His eyes burned with shadowfire as he gazed at the twisted display. "They wanted to make us live in fear. Let them learn what true fear is."
As the four slipped back into the forest, Kael glanced at his companions. Rogan's shoulders were squared, satisfaction burning in his eyes. Fenrik looked grim, but resolute. Thalos alone carried unease in his face, though he did not speak of it.
When they were far from the camp, Kael finally broke the silence.
"This was the first message," he said, his tone cold and steady. "But not the last. From here on, the Iron Brand will know that every step toward the Hollow comes with a price."
Rogan grunted in approval. "Good. Let them choke on their own fear."
Thalos' voice was quieter. "Fear can cut both ways."
Kael's gaze flickered to him, then back to the path ahead. "Then we'll wield it sharper than they do."
The shadows of the forest swallowed their figures as they made their way home, leaving behind a nightmare for their enemies to find.