A low thrum vibrated through the rock beneath Aerion's hand. It was faint at first, a distant tremor. But it grew steadily.
He stiffened. The Vaelgard. But this felt different, not a regular patrol.
"Movement," Aerion stated, his voice a low rasp that carried no emotion. "Two riders. Off the main trail and heading north."
Garren looked up, his brow furrowed. "N-north? That's, uh, nowhere near their fort, too far from them scout paths, man, what's he gonna do?"
Aerion said nothing. He only watched, and his senses were stretched. The Vaelgard rarely went off course.
This meant a purpose, or a mistake. They were too close to the hidden ravine where their termporary base was.
A surge of the internal fire rippled through Aerion. It was a jolt of heat and raw power. He fought to control it.
Not here. Not now.
He shifted and rose silently. "They are too close to our position. We intercept them."
Garren swallowed. "Intercept? Just us two?"
"Eana is already moving," Aerion replied. His gaze swept the distant, broken landscape where Eana's small figure would be. He knew her skills.
"You will circle wide. Draw their attention. Then lead them into the rockfall area. I will be waiting."
Garren's face paled. "Rockfall area? That's... that's hella unstable. And too narrow."
"Precisely," Aerion said, his voice cold. "It leaves them nowhere to go. And they will not see me until it is too late."
He did not wait for a response. He moved with a predator's grace. His worn boots were silent on the uneven stone.
He went down the slope, a dark shadow against the pale rock. He chose a path that would put him ahead of the approaching Vaelgard, let them into a narrow pass. And the pass was full of loose stones and unsteady boulders.
Garren hesitated for a moment. Then he let out a low, resigned sigh. He gripped his scavenged spear tighter and began to move.
He circled wide as Aerion had commanded. His limp made him slow, but his movements were careful. He knew what would happen if he failed, after what happened to Ryn.
Eana, already ahead, was a blur of motion. She knew the mountains better than any of them, and she would be the lure.
The Vaelgard riders appeared. They were two armored figures on strong mountain ponies.
They were not scouts, Aerion realized. They wore the colors of a special unit. Their movements showed a tracking mission, not a patrol. They were hunting something, or someone.
Aerion pressed himself against the cold rock. Raw power hummed beneath his skin, and it ached to be free.
Garren, moving with desperate speed, stumbled on purpose into a small clearing. He made just enough noise to get their attention.
The Vaelgard riders snapped their heads up. Their hands went to their swords without thinking.
"Stop right there!" one of them yelled. His voice echoed in the narrow pass.
Garren did not stop. He turned and limped deeper into the rockfall area. He drew them in.
The Vaelgard, seeing an easy target, made their ponies go faster. Their hooves clattered on the loose stone. They were too focused on Garren. They were too sure of catching him.
Aerion waited. His senses were sharp, every detail was clear to him. The rattle of stones, the heavy breathing of the horses, the jingle of armor.
He saw their faces. They were grim and focused. And he knew the exact moment to act.
When the first rider entered the narrowest part of the pass, where huge boulders hung overhead, Aerion moved.
He channeled his energy, his fury breaking loose, thrusting his hand to shake the earth.
The ground shook. A loose boulder, as big as a cart, groaned above them, then crashed down, smashing the pony's hindquarters, blood and bone spraying in a red mess.
The horse screeched, a wet, gurgly cry, as the rider flew forward, his armor crumpling on the rock. Blood gushed from his busted helmet. His body twitched once, then lay still in the dust.
The second rider's eyes widened in fear as he yanked his reins, trapped with no way out. Aerion charged, swift and lethal, colliding with the man's frantic sword strike.
He caught the blade with his palm, blood dripped and fueling his rage. He twisted, snapping the sword with a crack, then drove the jagged shard in the rider's chest.
Blood frothed the man's lips, gushing as Aerion ripped upward, tearing him. The rider slumped, a crimson stream drenched the pony, which bolted, leaving a trail of blood behind.
Aerion stood in the aftermath, his breath steady and his blue eyes unreadable, blood staining his hands. There was no joy, no feeling of winning. Only the cold feeling of a job done.
He checked their gear quickly. Standard swords, some food.
But one of them carried a small, leather bag. Aerion opened it. Inside were two small, complex compasses. They were not for finding direction, they were for tracking.
And a folded map. It was detailed and marked. It showed not just army positions. It showed mountain springs, old mining tunnels, and forgotten paths.
Garren limped back. His face was pale from hard work and leftover fear. He was staring at the blood-soaked ground and broken bodies and said nothing.
Eana appeared, seemed to come from nowhere. Her small form blended with the shadows. Her gaze shifting from the carnage to Aerion, her eyes held a strange, admiring look.
"They won't be missed for hours," Aerion stated, wiping blood onto a torn cloak with flat tone. "We hide the bodies, take their horses, then move."
The new map, combined with Eana's latest observations, gave a clearer picture. The Vaelgard were indeed growing their hold.
They were also bringing in key resources. One line on the map caught Aerion's attention. It was a rough, quickly drawn path.
It showed a small convoy, and it was moving supplies to a new, small outpost. The outpost itself had about fifteen soldiers.
But the convoy was smaller. Likely just two wagons, and they had only a few guards.
"This is our target," Aerion declared, tracing the route with bloodied finger. "Not for food. Not weapons. But tools."
His gaze settled on Garren, exhausted and shaken, but he continued, unwavering. "The new fort needs components, siege engines or magical construct, on these wagons."
"We need to understand what they're building," Aerion continued. "And we need to stop them from finishing it. We will attack the convoy. Eana will go ahead. She will watch the guards and count them. She will see how they are lined up."
He shifted his gaze at Garren, who listened to him silently. "Garren, you will get the ambush spot ready, a narrow pass and boulders for cover."
Now, he looked at Ryn. "You will be lookout. Mira will stay hidden with the child."
Ryn still trembled a little, but he nodded with wide eyes. He just obeyed, his fear of Aerion controlled him.