The eastern gate of Berdhshire Fortress groaned open just as the first rays of dawn pierced the smoke-laden sky.

Through the gap rode two figures on horseback, their mounts foam-flecked from hard travel. Behind them followed a dozen of the witches of the coven.

They entered the inner walls of the castle, stopping near the stables.

Elizabeth dismounted first, her red hair immaculate despite the long ride, not a strand out of place beneath her silver circlet. Her dark eyes swept the courtyard with calculating precision, taking in every detail of the fortress’s defenses and the exhausted faces of its defenders.

The fortress was filled with soldiers and people moving around. The fortress didn’t have any damage, but it can’t be said the same happened with its people.

They could see the bodies of dead soldiers lying in rows and columns near the walls, ready to be burnt. It took them a while to bring out the bodies of the soldiers from the narrow battlefield, as the orc and undead bodies had been piled up.

“Sister, how delightfully rustic,” came a sardonic voice as Katerina swung down from her own mount.

Where Elizabeth was composed elegance, Katerina was sharp edges and barely contained energy. Her raven hair was now braided and hung behind her shoulders, and her tongue was already poised for cutting remarks.

“I can practically smell the desperation from here.”

“Hold your tongue until we know the lay of the land,” Elizabeth murmured, though her own lips curved in a cold smile.

“We are guests here, after all.”

The sisters moved through the courtyard like they owned it, their presence causing subtle shifts in the crowd of soldiers and refugees. Both women radiated an aura of authority that seemed at odds with their relatively small entourage—only a handful of personal guards had accompanied them on this journey.

General Kaider came out to greet them and said, “Welcome to the Ladraella coven.”

“General Kaider,” Elizabeth greeted him back.

She said with a subtle nod, giving him the respect he deserved. Kaider was a veteran who had been stationed in this fortress since she was teenager and he had been protecting this fortress and keeping the defense against the demon legions.

Those who know of his military merits wouldn’t show any disrespect to him.

But that can’t be said to her sister, Katerina. She looked at him like she would at any other ordinary man.

“I heard that you have once again successfully eliminated the threat of the legion. Truly, General Kaider, you are a man of valor.”

“I did what needed to be done, and without the help of Lady Morgana and those young lads, I wouldn’t be standing here today, speaking with you, Lady Elizabeth.”

“And speaking of which, where are those young lads you speak of?” Elizabeth’s eyes gleamed with curiosity. So was Katerina’s. It was for this very reason they had come.

They had met them briefly in the Silverspire, but they aren’t aware that those chosen had such power to repel a lich king.

The general said that they were resting, but three of them were watching from the upper floor, standing in the hallway.

Taeryn was frowning deeply as he recognized them.

“Now there’s trouble we didn’t need,” he muttered to Rena, who stood beside him with her hands folded.

“Elizabeth and Katerina,” Rena breathed, her origin power flickering nervously around her fingers.

“What are they doing here?”

“Nothing good, I’d wager,” Baren rumbled, his draconic senses picking up the subtle wrongness that seemed to cling to the sisters like perfume.

“Should we…?”

Right then, Katerina looked up and saw them, and a grin spread on her lips.

Elizabeth approached with measured steps, her diplomatic smile never wavering.

“You all seem well,” she said, her voice honeyed silk.

“How fortuitous to find you alive. When we heard of the siege, we feared the worst.”

“Lady Elizabeth,” Taeryn replied with careful neutrality.

“Lady Katerina. Your arrival is… unexpected.”

“Oh, but not unwelcome, surely?” Katerina interjected, her green eyes dancing with malicious amusement. “We heard such interesting rumors about you killing the Lich King. We should have been there to see you in action.”

Before Taeryn could formulate a response, another commotion arose at the gates.

This time, however, the atmosphere was markedly different.

The soldiers, who were busy sorting out their fortress, looked shocked and confused seeing the flying beast entering the fortress walls.

Raelana entered the courtyard like a force of nature, her black hair streaming behind her as she dismounted in one fluid motion. Unlike the calculating coldness of Elizabeth or the sharp cruelty of Katerina, Raelana radiated warmth and genuine concern.

Her origin power, more refined and controlled than even Rena’s, created subtle eddies of healing energy that seemed to ease the pain of nearby wounded soldiers.

“My dear friends,” she called out, her voice carrying clearly across the courtyard.

“I came as soon as I received word. Tell me—where is Morgana?”

The question hit like a physical blow.

Taeryn exchanged glances with his companions, suddenly aware that they would need to explain her absence to someone who had traveled far to aid them.

“She… had urgent business elsewhere,” Rena said carefully, not wanting to reveal too much in front of the sisters.

“She left detailed instructions for our defense.”

Raelana’s expression sharpened, her diplomatic instincts recognizing the evasion immediately. But before she could press further, Elizabeth stepped forward with predatory interest.

“How fascinating,” the dark-haired sister purred.

“Morgana abandons her post just when her friends need her most. How very… characteristic.”

“Mind your tongue,” Taeryn warned, his grip tightening on his spear shaft.

Katerina laughed, a sound like breaking glass.

“Oh, come now. We’re all friends here, aren’t we? Surely we can speak plainly about dear Morgana’s… tendencies.”

The tension in the courtyard ratcheted higher, hands moving unconsciously to weapons as old grudges threatened to boil over.

It was Raelana who defused the situation with diplomatic skill honed over decades.

“Perhaps,” she said smoothly, positioning herself between the opposing factions, “we might discuss our current circumstances rather than dwelling on absent friends? I understand the fortress has weathered considerable trials.”

“There must be a lot of injured soldiers,” said Raelana.

General Kaider quickly caught her attention and replied, “Yes, there are. I hope all of you can spare your time and heal them.”

“Of course, General Kaider,” Raelana answered. She turned to Elizabeth and asked, “Surely, you would like to help, wouldn’t you, Elizabeth?”

Feeling all of their gazes on them, Elizabeth sighed and said, “Yes, we can.”

Then they all moved to the infirmary, where the wounded were lying. Meanwhile, the three of them exchanged uneasy glances.

Darian watched the whole interaction from the sidelines, as he didn’t want to reveal himself to them, which would bring more questions.

–

Two miles north of the Fortress, concealed among the dense pines of Forest Ridge, Morgana pressed herself against the rough bark of an aging oak.

Beside her, Jaenor did the same as she instructed.

Below them, winding along the old military road, came a sight that made Morgana’s blood run cold.

A column of soldiers marched in perfect formation, their black armor drinking in the morning light. At their head rode a figure that commanded attention through sheer presence alone—Anita Nightwhisper, her reputation preceding her like the scent of brimstone.

“Three thousand, maybe more,” Jaenor whispered, his enhanced vision picking out details that would be invisible to normal eyes.

“Heavy infantry, battle-tested. And their leader…”

“I know who she is,” Morgana breathed, her knuckles white where she gripped the tree trunk. “Anita, second to the Mother Supreme. A direct subordinate.”

Earlier, Jaenor and Morgana had just slipped past the looming shadow of the fortress, its black stone walls vanishing behind the veil of mist that clung to the ground. They had barely gone a few paces into the dense forest when Morgana suddenly stiffened. Her sharp eyes, trained by years of surviving dangers both human and not, caught movement between the trees.

Without a word, she pressed her hand against Jaenor’s chest and pushed him down into the undergrowth.

“Hide. Now.” Her voice was no louder than the rustle of leaves, but it carried urgency.

Jaenor obeyed, crouching low behind the twisted roots of an old oak, though his heart hammered in his chest. He wanted to ask who they were, but one look at Morgana’s expression silenced him. Her gaze was hard.

Below, as if sensing she was being observed, Anita raised her head to scan the treeline.

Even at this distance, her pale eyes seemed to pierce the shadows with unnatural clarity. She was beautiful in the way that avalanches were beautiful—deadly, inexorable, and utterly without mercy.

She noticed the three figures beside Anita, but she didn’t know who they were. She hadn’t met the older chosen ones, as she was busy finding the new ones. She was aware of them but never saw them in person. So she didn’t know who they were.

“She’s heading for the fortress,” Jaenor observed unnecessarily.

“Yes,” Morgana replied, her mind racing through implications.

“But why now? The siege was broken; the immediate threat ended. Unless…”

Understanding dawned like a cold sunrise. “Is she here to meet them?”

Jaenor’s aura began to shimmer with barely contained power. “Is she a threat? Will she do anything to my friends?”

“No.” Morgana’s voice was sharp with finality. “No. No such thing will happen. I’m sure she is just here to see them.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep