Chapter 21: Stand Tall!

The sunrise over Embershore was a pale, eerie light—offering no warmth, no comfort. The villagers and militia stood ready, their faces drawn with exhaustion, yet their eyes burned with determination.

They knew what was coming.

Sorin stood atop the reinforced ramparts, scanning the distant treeline. The air was too still—as if the land itself was holding its breath.

Then came the first sign.

A drumbeat.

A deep, rhythmic pounding that rattled the bones and shook the very earth beneath them.

Then—a mass of shadows emerged from the trees.

The dark army had arrived.

Monstrous creatures slithered, stomped, and crawled into formation, their war cries merging into an unholy chorus. But what unnerved Sorin most was the figure standing at the forefront—clad in darkened robes, his eyes glowing with eldritch fire.

The dark sorcerer.

His mere presence twisted the air, sending a wave of malignant energy across the battlefield.

Sorin’s grip tightened on his sword.

“Stand firm!” he bellowed. “For Embershore!“

A roar of defiance erupted from the defenders.

The final battle had begun.

---

The Battle Begins

With a deafening war cry, the dark army surged forward, smashing against the walls of Embershore like an unrelenting tide.

• Archers loosed arrows, striking down the first wave of beasts.
• Mages conjured flames and bolts of energy, scorching the ground and searing through enemy ranks.
• Villagers and militia fought side by side, wielding swords, spears, and whatever they could to push back the tide of darkness.

Sorin leapt from the battlements, sword flashing as he met the enemy head-on.

“Tempest!”

He spun through the air, his blade whirling in a deadly arc, tearing through the monstrous ranks.

Hashan and Korovh fought beside him, their weapons carving a path of destruction. Cailean directed archers and spellcasters, launching precision strikes to thin the enemy’s numbers.

Despite their bravery, the dark army did not falter.

Then, the sorcerer stepped forward.

With a single twist of his hand, he unleashed a wave of dark energy, sending several defenders sprawling.

Sorin narrowed his gaze.

This is the true threat.

“We have to take him down!” he shouted, signaling to his companions.

They cut their way toward him.

---

The Duel with Darkness

Sorin reached the dark sorcerer, their eyes locking across the battlefield. The air between them vibrated with raw magic and sheer hatred.

The sorcerer raised a hand—a black flame coalescing into a spear of energy.

Sorin barely dodged as the blast struck the ground, sending shockwaves through the battlefield.

“Impressive,” the sorcerer mused, his voice a chilling whisper. “But you are still just a mortal.”

“Then let’s see how well you handle mortals,” Sorin retorted, lunging forward.

• His sword clashed against the sorcerer’s magic, sending sparks flying.
• Hashan and Korovh flanked the sorcerer, forcing him onto the defensive.
• Aeris launched spells, trying to disrupt his concentration.

Yet the sorcerer was powerful. His counterattacks were precise, ruthless, and unnervingly fast.

Sorin activated Analyze, watching the flow of magic around his opponent. He could see it—a moment of weakness.

Now!

Sorin unleashed Mana Cannon, a blazing surge of energy that tore through the sorcerer’s defenses.

With one final strike, Sorin drove his sword into the sorcerer’s shoulder, forcing him to stagger back.

The dark army faltered.

The creatures, sensing their master’s weakness, lost coordination. The villagers and militia seized the opportunity, pushing forward with renewed fury.

The sorcerer grimaced, his wound dripping with an unnatural darkness.

“This is not over,” he hissed, fading into the shadows.

His army, leaderless and in disarray, began to retreat.

The battle was won.

---

Victory and Mourning

As the final remnants of the dark army vanished into the forest, a hushed silence fell over Embershore.

The battle was over.

But at a cost.

The village square became a place of mourning as the wounded were tended to and the fallen honored. A monument was built, a stone obelisk inscribed with the names of those who had given their lives.

Sorin stood before it, his heart heavy.

They had won the battle, but the war was far from over.

---

Unraveling the Truth

In the council chamber, Sorin gathered with Cailean, Hashan, Korovh, and an emissary from Chay. Aeris sat among them, her expression troubled.

“The blast that killed the goblin chieftain,” Sorin said slowly, thinking back. “It looked just like Mana Cannon, but I didn’t cast it.”

Aeris nodded grimly. “I’ve studied the residual magic left behind.” She glanced at the others. “It was the dark sorcerer’s magic.”

The realization settled heavily on them.

“He’s been manipulating this war from the shadows,” Cailean murmured. “His power is far greater than we anticipated.”

“And now, he knows about us,” Hashan added. “He won’t stop. Next time, he’ll come at us even harder.“

Sorin set his jaw.

“Then we find him first,” he declared. “Before he gathers his strength again.”

---

In the Shadows…

Far away, in a dark, cavernous fortress, the dark sorcerer seethed. His wound burned, but it was his rage that truly consumed him.

Dark sprites cowered before him, their tiny wings quivering.

One, braver than the rest, dared to ask, “Master… why did you interfere?”

The sorcerer’s eyes blazed.

His hand shot forward, grasping the sprite. A sickening energy drained the creature’s life away, leaving nothing but a husk.

He cast it aside like refuse.

“Only I am permitted to kill Sorin.“

His voice was venom, dripping with malice and obsession.

“And I will have my vengeance.“