Chapter 48: "For the North, High Warden,"

He continued to speak softly but swiftly.

"At sea, the northern Skard-pirates are getting entirely out of hand, choking the trade routes. The royal house of Merovan—with their massive naval hosts and sea-lords—should be taking care of it, but their fleets have been strangely passive, defensive even, as if they are hoarding their strength for a storm closer to home."

Sigurd’s eyes narrowed. "They protect their own shores while the ice-clans bleed the outer settlements. Cowards." he spat with a frown.

"And the final omen, High Warden," the warrior lowered his voice, the wind outside seeming to drop to a tense, unnatural whistle. "The primal beasts around the sub-alpine settlements are appearing at an unnatural, terrifying rate. There are more and more sightings reported each day."

"Our scouts report that larger, stronger beasts have started to encroach on the cities and their surrounding areas. Our frontier trackers believe they are fleeing from something deeper in the dead zones. Rumors are spreading of a massive, cataclysmic pressure that was felt near the shattered peaks of Vorrhalden..."

"It is to the point where even yellow tier beasts have begun roaming strangely and leaving their territories... we have not been able to determine whether the reason for this chaos is a beast of blue or green tier just yet. The lower rung houses are tense and on high alert."

The great hall fell dead silent, save for the crackle of the massive pine logs in the hearths and the violent lashing of the northern wind against the iron-rimmed windows.

Sigurd Skagen remained silent for a long time, digesting the information his warrior had reported.’Beasts running rampant, could only be because of a blue tier beast at least... If that is the case...’

Slowly, the titan stood up, his massive dark-iron armor groaning under his immense weight. He stepped toward a massive, dark-timbered desk carved with the maps of the northern territories.

"We will not take any action towards the northern territories. With the growing threat of the extreme wastes we will stand here," Sigurd rumbled, his demeanor carrying the absolute, unyielding permanence of the mountains. "We cannot afford to leave..."

He pulled a heavy piece of parchment toward him, dipping a thick quill into dark ink. "The other houses will take care of it... if not, they will need to face the consequences of ignoring House Skagen’s warning."

He began to write two letters, his script heavy and commanding.

"The first goes to House Auren," Sigurd commanded, his voice echoing off the stone pillars. "They are traditionalists, proud, and their martial strength is unquestioned. Tell their Lord that if they wish to preserve the ancient honor they boast of, they will deploy their vanguard to crush the rising beast numbers encroaching on the outer borders."

He set the first seal and began the second.

"The second goes to House Valdric. They possess the finest hunters, the most lethal rangers, and the best forest trackers in the entire north. If a blue or even an overlord beast is waking in the shadows, they will find it before us."

He slammed his heavy iron signet ring into the hot red wax, sealing the orders. He handed them to the kneeling warrior.

"Deliver these with the speed of the winter gale. Tell them House Skagen holds the pass, they need to honor the oath they made all those years ago. Now ride!."

"For the North, High Warden," the warrior saluted, gripping the scrolls tightly before turning and rushing into the howling white storm outside.

***

Dun-Shatter.

The sudden roar from the top layer of the mountain city hit the group, who were heading towards the gates, like a physical blow. The stone beneath their boots shuddered, and the heavy iron gates in the distance rumbled with movement as well.

Resven skidded to a halt, his boots grinding against the frosted cobblestones. His head snapped upward, his eyes narrowing as he glared toward the towering spires of the upper city. The group behind him followed suit, glancing wearily towards the place where the explosion appeared.

Right behind Resven, the vanguard warrior, Gunnar, let out a low grunt, slamming the bottom of his massive dark-iron tower shield into the dirt to brace his weight. He had been walking next to one of the horses dragging the wagon when it happened.

"What in the hells was that?" Gunnar growled, his breath ragged. "Felt like my soul was crying out in agony and fear. Screaming me to run... who in the abyss is fighting up there?!"

"It’s the Vitre," Maeve said. She stepped up beside Resven, her hands already shifting as a pale blue light began to flicker across her fingertips. She looked up at the high manors, her face turning pale. "It’s suffocating. Most probably some higher ups fighting, the energy is leaking all the way down hear, making the air itself feel dense and unstable."

Up at the very top of the city, a second explosion tore right through a fortified granite parapet. Burning timber and shattered rock rained down into the mid-tier plazas below, followed by massive, blinding flashes of volatile power.

A split second later, a wave of compressed force rippled outward from the upper palace. It swept down the tiered stone staircases like an avalanche of white dust and pulverized stone.

The moment that the dust cloud hit the lower market, the tense silence was completely shattered.

Pure, unbridled panic took over. Merchants dropped their crates of high-grade grains and iron tools, screaming as they scrambled in every direction. Down the street, a column of city guards came rushing out of their barracks, their captains shouting hoarsely, desperately trying to push the stampeding crowd away from the gates.

"Look at the gatekeepers!" One of the men called out. He shifted his weight, his swift-footed stance ready to move in any direction. "The guards are keeping the others from fleeing! Looks like they want to seal off the city!"

"They’re trying to keep whatever is fighting up there from escaping," Ysra, another group member spat, her eyes flashing with anger. "But they’re going to trap thousands of innocent people inside. If they don’t move the fight somewhere else, the city folk will suffer. The aftershocks will be too much for the walls to bear; the ones fighting should at least be Dark Orange tier warriors, maybe even Yellow tier ones."