The air was heavy with the stench of smoke and sweat, the sound of clashing steel echoing through the night like a death knell.
Aden lay in the shattered remains of the burning hut, blood pooling beneath him, ribs cracked and breath ragged. Pain coursed through his body like a white-hot brand, his thigh soaked in blood from the High Orc's earlier blow.
He tried to move. But nothing. His mind, once sharp, now felt like it was drifting like a boat, floating deeper into the fog. Around him, the village still burned, the air thick with smoke and the cries of battle.
The hounds were still fighting, holding back the swarm of orcs and the towering High Orc.
"He's not going to make it," one of the hounds muttered, their voice laced with a hint of concern, but not quite enough to stir them into action.
"Doesn't matter," the leader replied, their eyes fixed on Aden with a calculating gaze. "He's not our problem. Our job is to observe, not protect."
But one of the hounds, a young man with a look of unease etched on his face, spoke up, his voice barely above a whisper. "Wait, isn't he the heir of the Vasco household? If he dies, it'll... it'll mean war. The Vasco family will not take this lying down."
The leader's expression remained impassive, but a hint of amusement danced in his eyes. "Was," they corrected, his voice dripping with a subtle emphasis. "Ever since the trial, he's been excommunicated. No longer the Vasco family's heir. No retailiation will come from them. Our job is to observe, not protect."
The young hound's eyes widened in understanding, but a flicker of doubt still lingered in his gaze. "But what if—
"Enough," the leader cut in, their voice firm but not unkind. "We have our orders. Observe and report. Nothing more."
As the hounds continued to watch, Aden Vasco stirred, his body screaming in agony. But he refused to yield, his eyes burning with a desperate resolve.
"I won't die here," he whispered to himself, his voice barely audible over the sound of his own heartbeat.
With a newfound determination, Aden pushed himself up, his eyes fixed on the High Orc, its massive frame looming in the distance like a specter of death.
The two enemies launched themselves at each other, their battle a fiery, chaotic dance. The Imperial Hounds watched from a distance, their faces a mask of indifference, but their eyes gleaming with a mixture of fascination and horror.
"This is madness," the young hound muttered, his voice barely audible over the sound of clashing steel.
"Just observe," the leader replied, their eyes fixed on Aden with an unblinking gaze.
Meanwhile, one of the hounds, a Remes family spy, slipped away unnoticed, his eyes fixed on the encampment's supplies. With a swift motion, stole the records of the Dahaka maps and files, burning the rest of the supplies to ashes.
"That should take care of it," the spy muttered, their voice barely audible over the sound of the wind.
But before they could escape, a group of shadowy figures emerged from the darkness, their eyes fixed on the spy.
"You're not going anywhere," one of them growled, their voice low and menacing.
The spy tried to flee, but it was too late. The figures closed in, their blades flashing in the dim light.
"Who are you?" the spy demanded, trying to stall for time.
"It doesn't matter who we are," one of the figures replied, their voice dripping with malice. "But We know all about your little mission given by the Remes"
"What do you want?" the spy asked, trying to keep their voice steady.
"Oh, we just want to make sure that Aden Vasco doesn't return alive," another figure chimed in, their voice laced with a sinister intent. "And we'll make sure of it, no matter what it takes."
"T-Then we are all on the same side... right?," the spy spat, trying to sound braver than they felt.
"Ohh?... Are we?," the first figure replied, their blade flashing in the dim light.
"Y-Yess, s-so how about we work togeth--"
"Nah... We're good" the first figure spoke out signaling his companions.
The spy tried to struggle, but it was too late. The figures overpowered them, their blades rising and falling in a deadly rhythm.
"Keep Looking... Aden Vasco must be near," one of the figures whispered, their voice carrying on the wind.
"No matter what happens tonight, Aden Vasco will not return alive, and we will make sure of it," another added, their eyes gleaming with a sinister intent.
As the spy's lifeless body slumped to the ground, the figures melted into the darkness, their presence erased from the scene.
He was a spy. A pawn of the Remes Household.
His mission had never been to win.
It had been to ensure Aden Vasco didn't return.
The cruelest blade was not wielded in war, but hidden behind a friend's smile.