After the Trial by Magic, the war council gathered beneath the great tent. Captain Ezra unrolled a detailed map showing the enemy's encampment: a maze of war tents centered around the Dark Lord's command pavilion. With Ravencourt's defeat, the enemy's magical defenses were weakened—now was the time for a decisive strike.
Sir Alaric looked to Roland. "I want you, Talia, and Lira to lead a small strike team. Your mission: infiltrate their camp before dawn, destroy their command tent and supply wagons, then return with minimal losses."
Roland nodded. "We won't fail you."
Under a moonless sky, the trio moved out, joined by Ezra and four Brotherhood scouts. Wrapped in shadows and guided by the Aegis of the Hidden, they skirted patrols and slipped between watchfires. Roland paused before a tripwire—Ravencourt's failed wards had left magical traps. He knelt, lit a Candle of Nullification, and snuffed the sigils, allowing the team safe passage.
Inside the camp, Lira darted between tents, her staff silencing two sentries before they could raise alarm. Talia followed, her crossbow's muffled bolts dropping the next two guards. Roland and Ezra breached the command tent: Roland's rune dagger shattered the lock, and Ezra hurled a smoke bomb that choked alarm calls.
Within, war maps lay strewn across a table alongside the giant black brazier fueling the Dark Lord's magic. Roland pressed his Rune of Binding into the brazier's base; chains of silver light snuffed its infernal flames. Ezra and Talia set timed charges on the supply wagons.
At Roland's signal, the tent's ropes were cut. Flames roared as charges detonated—a thunderous boom echoed through the camp. Tents collapsed in fire, soldiers panicked, and the night erupted into chaos.
"Retreat!" Roland shouted. They fled through the burning camp, weaving between explosions and fleeing enemy. Lira covered their rear with sweeping staff strikes, felling two pursuers. Talia provided suppressing fire until they reached the treeline.
As dawn's light crowned the horizon, they emerged before Fenwood's gates, mud and ash covering them. Sir Alaric rode out to meet them, relief and pride in his eyes. "You have struck a crushing blow. Ardenia owes you its life today."
Roland lowered his sword, chest heaving. "It was an honor to serve."
Behind him, the valley echoed with the sounds of battle as the main allied force charged the disordered enemy. Atop the ridge, Roland raised his blade in salute. In that moment, he knew his journey—from nameless mob to pivotal hero—had reached its highest turn. Ardenia would remember this day.