The first few days of Davon’s scouting expedition went by without incident. He moved back and forth between the inner and outer city, keeping an eye on the Duke’s Road and trying to figure out Tenebris’ routine.

  While in the outer city, Davon found himself constantly tempted to set traps for the Crimson Reavers along the Duke’s Road. A rune here, a rune there, he mused, imagining a group of soldiers stepping onto the traps and swiftly meeting their demise. But he knew better than to draw attention to himself when he was in it for the long haul.

  On the other side of the walls, Davon spent his time rushing from manor to manor, villa to villa, looking for a better vantage on the castle in the middle of the inner city. But he wasn’t just waiting for Tenebris to make a move. As he examined the castle from a variety of angles, Davon thought about different attack strategies, debating between force or infiltration.

  The castle itself was surrounded by a massive moat, frozen in the mid-autumn cold. The ice would provide easy access on foot for smaller groups. That could be the perfect opportunity for infiltration. For once, Davon found himself thankful about the mainland’s tendency to turn bitterly cold in autumn.

  During one of his forays into the inner city, Davon discovered a massive Crimson Reaper stable, built into the ruins of several buildings. His Invisibility rune enabled him to give the stable a close inspection. He counted nearly fifty ‘bounders’, the name he’d given the Duelists’ mounts, and as many war beasts. All were neatly separated into their own cages.

  He pondered whether that meant that there were only fifty or so Duelists left in Tenebris’ army, but he dismissed the thought as unlikely.

  There are probably many more Duelists without mounts, he thought. Or there are other stables, with more bounders.

  Making a mental note to search the inner city for more stables, Davon withdrew to his belltower hideout to record his findings.

  On the fourth day, Davon was stalking the inner ramparts when a giant explosion rocked the walls under his feet. Turning towards the source of the commotion, he spotted a massive fireball rising into the air above the Duke’s Road. The shape of the explosion was very familiar to Davon. It looked similar to the destruction he’d caused at the forge.

  Cursing under his breath, Davon threw himself off of the inner walls and down into the outer city streets. He landed in a roll and used the momentum to sprint towards the Duke’s Road. Merely a moment later, the sound of powerful wingbeats announced Tenebris’ presence.

  Before Davon had time to react, a gigantic shape blocked the sun from his view as the ground shook once again. Tenebris had landed directly on top of the building next to Davon.

  A wave of fear washed over him. What if Tenebris really does have draconic senses? he thought wildly. What if he can see through my Invisibility?

  In a moment of panic, Davon threw himself bodily through a window into another building. A moment later, he scolded himself internally for the rash decision. Tenebris leapt from the rooftop and landed on the street with a crash, his shadow looming over the window Davon had just leapt through.

  Davon tucked himself underneath the window sill and held his breath as Tenebris’ head poked in through the window. The general seemed to extend the entirety of his long neck into the room, examining every detail.

  Davon’s eyes were wide in shock. He couldn’t move. Memories of his last encounter with the general flooded through his mind, freezing his muscles in terror. His heart was beating frantically, as if trying to escape his chest.

  Tenebris craned his neck down, turning to look almost directly at Davon.

  This is the end.

  Davon reflexively reached for his weapon, grabbing the bow with the full force of his desperation. But then he froze again.

  Tenebris’ neck was lifting. He continued to scan the room, apparently unaware of Davon’s presence under the window sill.

  No true sight, and he can’t hear my heartbeat, Davon concluded, his mind spinning in several different directions.

  The general withdrew his head from the room with a growl of frustration. Davon stayed frozen, not even daring to breathe, for another few moments. Only when he heard the general bounding away towards the Duke’s Road did Davon finally exhale.

  Whatever that explosion was, it can wait until I catch my damn breath, he thought, slumping to the floor with a sigh of relief.

  Davon waited until he heard the sound of Tenebris making his way back into the inner city before he moved. Shadow-stepping onto a nearby roof, he looked towards the smoke plume left behind from the explosion. One of the newly constructed Crimson Reaver buildings had been torn apart.

  Leaping from rooftop to rooftop, Davon got a closer look. Shards of that strange carapace material and pieces of broken weaponry were scattered all over the ground, along with bits of Crimson Reaver bodies.

  Davon smiled to himself, appreciating the carnage. He was glad to see Vanguard sabotages were still ongoing. Not only was it a blow against their monstrous foes, but it meant he wasn’t alone behind enemy lines.

  For a little while, at least.

  —

  The next week passed by without any major developments. Davon continued spying on the construction along the Duke’s Road, meeting up with another Vanguard scout at the outer walls every few days to deliver his reports.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  By that point, the Duke’s Road had been made into a fortress of its own. Layers of towers and barricades divided the wide street into ten equal sections. The alleyways leading into the street from the sides were blocked off with massive carapace walls as tall as the city’s buildings, preventing all entry. Anyone trying to get to the inner gate was forced to pass along the Duke’s Road.

  Davon theorized that the Crimson Reavers didn’t have enough forces to watch every part of the city, so they’d created a funnel leading from the outer gate to the inner gate. The Vanguard couldn’t simply destroy a different wall section and flood the city. They would have to face the newly built Crimson Reaver battlements to reach the inner gates.

  The inner city, meanwhile, didn’t need reinforcements. The Crimson Reaver elites and their general could defend those walls easily.

  At least the inner ramparts don’t have many siege emplacements, Davon mused, sitting by one of the few ballistae mounted on the inner wall.

  The Crimson Reaver elites were gathering once again in the inner city below him. He watched as they began moving towards the castle, responding to yet another call from the general. Specifically, his eyes landed on the Red Plume. The Duelist was walking with a captain wearing a familiar, two-horned helmet.

  The captain who had sent Davon and his friends into death's embrace for the first time.

  Davon subconsciously balled his hands into fists as rage flared in his chest. Ideas of revenge began coursing through his mind, image after image of the suffering he could inflict on the helmeted monster…

  Suddenly, a different feeling tugged at the back of his mind. It was the same nagging sensation he’d experienced before overloading himself in the snowfield battle. Only, this time he could pinpoint the source of the feeling. It was pouring forth unmistakably along the threads of connection between him and his Reliquary.

  Also unmistakable was the feeling’s message. It was a warning, as sincere as it could be, against doing anything rash or stupid.

  As if trying to communicate with him, the feeling conjured its own images and ideas, sending them into his head to combat the rage-fueled haze.

  The sense of panic when his arms failed…

  That helpless moment when he’d watched his friends die…

  His own blood-covered body lying in the snow…

  Fine, fine, I get it, he thought, directing the words through the mental link. I won’t attack the captain. Not yet.

  The flurry of wordless communication calmed as Davon returned his attention to his real target. Tenebris was perched on top of his castle, roaring to summon his elites. He gave one final howl, then gracelessly leapt back inside.

  Ever since the explosion the previous week, Tenebris had been calling the Crimson Reaver elites together daily. While curious, Davon didn’t dare try to sneak into one of these gatherings. He could only imagine what sorts of defenses they’d conjured in the castle, and he wasn’t willing to discover the reality. Not when he was alone.

  But the sight of the captain had stoked the fire of revenge in Davon’s heart. It was smoldering at the moment, pushed down by the forceful warning from his Reliquary, but it wouldn’t stay quiet forever.

  Davon returned to his hideout, trying to reason with himself.

  There will be a time for vengeance, but it’s not now, he argued. Wait until your team is back. Wait until you have Kai and Lyla at your side.

  He repeated it over and over to himself like a mantra as he lay down to rest, letting the words lull his heart into a calmer rhythm.

  Wait until you’re not alone. Then you’ll make the monsters pay.

  Every last one of them.

  —

  Another week later, Davon sat in his hideout, preparing for his regular meeting with the Vanguard contact. His notebook was full of information to pass on. More fortifications had popped up on the Duke’s Road, and Davon had made note of them all. The inner city, on the other hand, remained mostly unchanged.

  Davon inspected his weapon closely, recalling the way it had tried to communicate with him the previous week. Curious, he tugged at the mental threads, asking wordlessly for the Reliquary to show itself to him. His call went unanswered.

  Frowning, Davon slumped in his chair.

  I’ve been alone for a while, he thought. If I’m trying this hard to talk to a weapon…

  Suddenly, Davon realized it had been almost three weeks since he began his scouting assignment. Reminding himself to ask the Vanguard contact if Kai and Lyla had resurrected, he pushed himself to his feet and headed towards the usual rendezvous outside the city wall.

  On the way there, he noticed that the Crimson Reavers on the Duke’s Road seemed to be done with their construction. He couldn’t spot a single soldier hauling materials down the street. Every Crimson Reaver he could see was simply standing guard instead.

  Done building? Strange timing, he observed before moving on.

  Making his way to the ramparts, Davon noted that there were more guards than usual patrolling the walls. Feeling grateful that he was fully recovered from his mistakes a few weeks back, Davon chained a few Shadow-steps together. He landed moments later outside the city wall, behind the same rock he always used for cover.

  When his eyes refocused, Davon spotted a Green Tracker, wrapped tightly in their cloak and hiding their face behind a cloth mask.

  Dropping out of invisibility, Davon greeted the figure with a nod as he reached for his pack. It was mostly empty, since he left the majority of his supplies in the hideout. He was searching for his notebook when the Green Tracker raised a hand to interrupt him.

  “No need, this time,” the Green Tracker said.

  Davon shot the Revenant a curious look, pausing with his hand already gripping the notebook.

  “You’re being called back. Team’s resurrected,” the Revenant explained, leaning against the rock.

  Davon stood up straight, pulse quickening with excitement. “They’re… back?”

  The Green Tracker nodded. “I’m replacing you behind enemy lines. Going to need a few details before I let you go.”

  After a brief conversation about the location of Davon’s hideout and what to look out for, Davon parted from the Green Tracker. He cloaked himself again with Invisibility and broke into a mad sprint towards the Vanguard base.

  Davon wove his way through the snow field, expertly dodging Crimson Reaver patrols on his way back to camp. He only paid as much attention as it took to avoid the enemy. It was hard to think about anything other than returning to his friends.

  Since his expedition started, Davon had mostly avoided thinking about Kai and Lyla. He’d tried not to think about the fact that he was alone, outside of strategizing. Now that the news of their resurrection reached him, he realized just how much he missed his two companions.

  It took him roughly ten minutes to cross the snowfield. He dropped his Invisibility about a hundred feet before reaching the Vanguard’s entrance so he wouldn’t spook the guards. Then he dashed through the camp with terrifying speed, making his way to the group’s tent in seconds.

  When Davon pushed into the tent, his heart skipped a beat at the sight of his two friends sitting in their usual places. He smiled from ear to ear and stepped inside, his posture instantly relaxing.

  “You two have no idea how nice it is to see you again.”

  “D-Davon? Is that you? Are you feeling well?” Lyla stammered as she stood up, seemingly caught off-guard by Davon’s expression of raw emotions. She placed her hand on Davon’s forehead to check his temperature.

  “Yeah, you seem a little… out of it,” Kai added.

  Davon just shook his head, still grinning. “Oh, do I have some stories to tell you both… well, as soon as I report to Grant and Emma.”