Lord of Deception

The Frostveil Highlands were a land of eternal winter. Jagged peaks stood like the fangs of an ancient beast, their snow-covered slopes gleaming under the pale moonlight. Winds howled through the valleys, carrying whispers of war and death. It was here that the empire's authority had been defied, and it was here that Kael would deliver his judgment.

His army moved like a silent storm through the icy plains, their banners whipping against the wind. Ten thousand imperial soldiers, hardened by campaigns, marched in unyielding formation. Each man bore weapons sharpened to perfection, their armor reflecting the moon's glow.

At the front, Kael rode his black warhorse, his golden eyes scanning the distant cliffs of Frostveil. The stronghold of the rebellion loomed ahead, an impregnable fortress nestled within the mountain range. The rebel warlords had fortified their position well, but Kael had no intention of fighting a battle on their terms.

His officers gathered in his command tent as the army set up camp in Blackthorn Pass, a narrow valley leading toward the enemy's gates. The air inside the tent was thick with tension. Maps and reports were spread across the wooden table, illuminated by lantern light.

General Varian, a veteran of countless battles, traced his gloved fingers along the map. "The rebels control the high ground. Their defenses are too strong for a direct assault. If we march straight in, we'll lose half our forces before we even reach their gates."

Lady Saria, a master tactician and Kael's trusted confidante, smirked as she leaned against her chair. "Then we don't march straight in. We make them open the gates themselves."

Kael's gaze flickered with interest. "Elaborate."

She placed a dagger on the map, pointing toward Frostveil's gates. "The rebels are expecting a siege. They believe we'll try to starve them out. But what if we convince them that there is no war at all?"

Varian raised an eyebrow. "You're suggesting deception."

"Of course," she said. "War isn't just about swords. It's about breaking the enemy's will before a single drop of blood is spilled."

Kael folded his hands. "And how do we achieve that?"

"We send them an envoy," Saria explained. "A false offer of surrender. Make them believe the empire is willing to recognize Frostveil's independence in exchange for neutrality. Let them lower their guard."

Varian hesitated. "And when they realize it's a trick?"

Kael's voice was like steel. "They won't have time to."

A slow smile spread across Saria's lips.

"I like it."

The next morning, an imperial envoy, clad in fine robes, rode toward the gates of Frostveil under a white flag of truce. Archers hidden within the cliffs watched his every move, arrows ready to pierce his heart at the slightest provocation.

Inside the fortress, Lord Alric, the leader of the rebellion, sat upon a stone throne, his warlords gathered around him. His sharp features bore the weariness of a man who had spent years fighting the empire.

The envoy presented Kael's message with a bow.

"Kael of House Rathen extends an offer of peace. The empire will recognize Frostveil's independence in exchange for an oath of neutrality. No further bloodshed is necessary."

The hall fell into murmurs. Some warlords exchanged cautious glances, while others smirked.

Alric chuckled, leaning forward. "Kael is a fox. But even foxes know when to retreat." He turned to his men. "Let us drink to our victory. The empire has surrendered without a fight!"

A great feast was declared, wine flowing like rivers as the rebels celebrated their supposed triumph. They feasted, they drank, they laughed—never realizing that death had already entered their walls.

Because outside, hidden beneath the cloak of night, Kael's elite forces were already moving.

Imperial assassins, disguised as traders and diplomats, infiltrated the fortress during the revelry. Guards were slain in silence. The gates, once locked and secure, were quietly unbolted from within.

As dawn approached, the rebels still lay in drunken slumber, unaware that the imperial army was already inside their walls.

By the time the first war horn sounded, Frostveil had already fallen.

To be continued.....