Chapter 111: Dark Spine Fortress

Sakavi stood atop the cliff behind the dark fortress, gazing down at how the stronghold clung to the terrain of the pass, flanked by sheer mountain walls like natural barriers.

The fortress had an irregular shape, stretching roughly along the pass’s contour and blending perfectly with the surrounding landscape, giving the impression of a natural formation. From above, the entire fortress resembled a colossal beast, crouched within the pass, guarding the vital passage.

“Gisk,” Sakavi’s voice was emotionless, like rolling stone, “you’ve done… better than I imagined. In just two months, holding this fortress against the howling winds of Howling Pass is no small feat.”

The dragon’s head turned toward the jackal-man commander, standing rigidly yet unable to hide his exhaustion and a trace of pride.

“But—” his tone stretched slightly, his vertical pupils narrowing—“the speed of construction surprised me. This shell looks sturdy… but did you cut corners? Did you swap in substandard materials to rush it?”

“My lord, you may rest assured—this position can withstand an assault by five full legions. Look at the front: the original road has been completely severed, forming a chasm three meters wide. The bottom is lined with wooden stakes coated in poison.”

Only a single suspension bridge, hung by iron chains, connects the two sides. The bridge is paved with thick iron plates, studded with spikes to prevent enemy climbers.

Behind it rises a wall twenty meters high, densely packed with demon skulls and broken weapons—both trophies and deterrents.

Along the wall, every ten meters stands a “Stonecrusher”—a modified catapult engineered by subterranean gnomes, capable of hurling barrels of burning pitch.”

“Good. Then what of the interior? I’m curious.”

“My lord, walk this way. Your own eyes will judge far better than my words ever could.”

The massive iron-bound gate rose slowly before them, groaning with the grinding of gears. Beyond lay a bowl-shaped inner courtyard, thirty meters deep. Steep walls lined with arrow slits flanked both sides, while a ceiling of movable grates could be sealed overhead.

Beyond the courtyard stretched the main passage into the inner fortress. Wide enough for four fully armored minotaurs to march side by side, it featured a steel threshold every twenty meters—each lowered half a meter and capped with a drop-gate slot.

Gisk pointed to hidden grooves in the ceiling: “If they break in, we can drop spiked iron gates in sections, slicing them into pieces and slaughtering them in the corridor.”

Along the passage walls, besides standard torch holders, numerous circular hollows, each the size of a bowl, had been Yuliu . Gisk explained: “These can be filled with acid, spew fire, or hold spears.”

“The leftover scraps from quarrying the basalt-like stone of the pass? Perfect for filling them. Cheaper than fired brick, and far harder.”

Entering the main hall of the inner fortress, the space soared high. Four massive, unpolished natural rock pillars supported the dome—each an extension of the mountain itself.

In the center stood a vast hearth, above which a cleverly carved flue served as both ventilation and an emergency vertical escape route. “Smoke escapes upward; if needed, men can climb it—above, it connects to the mountaintop observation post.”

Multi-tiered shelves and walkways had been carved into the surrounding walls, forming Liti defensive platforms. The materials appeared to be the very stone excavated during construction, simply stacked and reinforced.

Along one side of the hall, several passages led inward. Gisk pushed open a heavy wooden door, revealing a dry storage cavern. Bags of grain, barrels of fresh water, stacked weapons and arrows—all neatly sorted and arranged. The walls had been treated against dampness.

In another, smaller cavern, sulfur, saltpeter, refined oils, magical scrolls, and potions were piled high—well-ventilated and kept far from living quarters.

Living quarters were carved into the mountain’s interior: cramped but functional. Rough stone beds were laid with straw and animal hides; each bunk had its own personal storage niche.

The communal latrine was a deep trench leading to a sealed septic tank beneath the fortress. “We add lime and herbs regularly—it controls odor and produces small amounts of flammable gas, channeled through clay pipes to the kitchen hearth… or, if needed, to certain traps.” Gisk explained, his tone coldly pragmatic.

As they walked, Gisk pointed out the unassuming yet deadly details: hidden tripwires beneath thresholds, inward-firing explosive panels installed inside ventilation shafts, stones that looked ordinary but were loose—behind them, pits bristling with poisoned spikes.

“The secret tunnel from the command hall connects both north and south, allowing messengers to pass when gates are closed. Small side doors, only wide enough for patrols, are set into the main walls—allowing entry and exit without disrupting main traffic.”

On the cliffs to the east and west stand a defensive tower each, along with ten watchtowers, ensuring all attempts to attack from above are repelled. Two squads of harpies are stationed atop them, patrolling the surrounding area.”

Sakavi surveyed silently the fortress carved from the sheer cliff—from its rough yet extraordinarily sturdy structure to every detail brimming with battlefield wisdom.

Gisk pointed toward the distant, barely visible supply lines of the allied forces.

“The deadline was tight, but I didn’t cut corners—I merely optimized the workflow and material sources.” He grinned, baring his teeth. “Every coin and every day saved became more traps, thicker walls, or… fuller storerooms.”

“Good.” A cold gleam flickered in Sakavi’s dragon eyes. “The allied forces once forced us to stand as shields, absorbing the demons’ fiercest assaults… Now it’s their turn to pay a tangible price for their own strategy.”

His claw tapped the rock wall, producing a dull thud.

“The battlefield is a game of give and take. Now, it’s our turn to move.”

“So you’ve already planned your next move? I’ve been waiting here until I started to mold.”

“I have one good piece of news and one bad one. Which do you want first?”

“The good one, of course. Are we going to war? I’ve waited long enough.”

“It’s time to clean out the ancient ruins to the north.” His voice rumbled like thunder deep underground.

“Verna’s intelligence came just in time. Some overreaching adventurer guilds have slithered like rats into holes they shouldn’t have touched. How they got in doesn’t matter—what matters is…”

The dragon’s head turned to Gisk, his gaze icy.

“On my lands, I won’t tolerate stray hyenas. Your task is to eradicate every last demon entrenched there.”

He paused slightly, letting the weight of his next words settle.

“And the bad news? After you’ve cleared it, you cannot return directly. You must build a city there—not merely a fortress.”

“A town that can take root, sustain life, and thrust its blade into the throats of every would-be invader. We must control not just the ruins, but the region’s very narrative.”

“Any power still dreaming of that place must first weigh the ballistae mounted on your walls and the soldiers who can surge from every alley.”

Sakavi’s claw tapped lightly against the ground. “Cut the grass, but uproot the weed. The structure I want you to build is the root no one can bypass.”

“My lord, who will guard this ‘door’?” He spat at the fortress below—solid yet isolated. “The wind of Howling Pass carries the scent of blood. Each tide from the Bloodrage Sea washes new twisted horrors ashore. This place is like a bone tossed into a pack of starving wolves—it’ll be devoured to dust before you blink.”

He turned to face Sakavi, his tone laced with responsibility: “I can’t take too many men north. The gap left behind—who will fill it? New recruits won’t hold against the next real assault.”

“Within three days, Shadowclaw will arrive with his entire marsh lizardman legion. They possess extensive defensive experience and excel in the damp, murky conditions along the Bloodrage Sea. The defense of Dark Spine Pass will be entrusted to experts better suited to this ‘stinking ditch’ than you.”

His tone shifted immediately toward the north.

“And you, Gisk—take your most elite troops, and the purification materials ‘provided’ by the allies. Your mission is to establish a foothold in the northern ruins and build a fortress-town that controls the pass.”

Sakavi’s claw pointed to a marked region on the map, his voice low and clear.

“Remember: it overlooks the ruins and faces the Scorching Wasteland across the sea. Whoever holds it controls the throat of any future cross-sea operation. I want you to forge a wedge driven into this strategic chokepoint—a thorn that makes every future contender hesitate.”

“Now, you may go confidently as that ‘thorn.’ The ‘bones’ here will be guarded by lizards better suited to gnawing on hard ones.”

“My lord, the situation at Sharut… is unnaturally quiet.”

He scratched a rough sketch of the Broken Blade Pass into the dust on the ground.

“Two months is enough for a messenger harpy to make ten round trips. Even if the pass isn’t fully cleared, with his ogre scouts’ capabilities, he should’ve sent out at least a few messengers.”

Gisk’s yellow eyes locked onto Sakavi. “This complete silence can mean only two things: either he’s advancing too smoothly to bother reporting… or…”

He paused, leaving the unsaid implication hanging.

“I believe we can’t wait. At least send a small, fast team—no need for many, but they must be the best mountain scouts and stealthers. Infiltrate and find out what’s happening.”

“Even if they can’t help, we must know whether that ‘door’ hides a banner of triumph… or a mess we’ll have to clean up.”

“There’s no need to worry.”

Sakavi’s dragon claw traced a deep groove across the rocky floor, as if placing a stone on a battlefield map.

“I will send Ugru with his entire minotaur warband to relieve the line. Those horned brutes are perfect for building an unbreakable iron wall within the pass.”

He paused slightly, a deeper calculation flickering in his molten-gold pupils.

“As for Sharut… he has his own war to fight, his own stones to carve through. The minotaurs will guard his rear, letting him focus on crushing the obstacle before him.”

“This reinforcement isn’t to interfere in his battle—it’s to ensure his back never suddenly becomes his front.”