Paragon of Destruction

As Arran made his way down from the wall, he could hear calls of alarm sounding throughout the city.

Only moments had passed since the first guard had spotted the approach of Rannoc’s forces, but already, the city was in an uproar. And although most of Kadun’s troops didn’t yet know that the gate stood open, it wouldn’t take long for word to spread.

When that happened, every soldier in the city would come for them.

Knowing that there wasn’t much time, Arran hurried down the stairs and immediately approached the gate, where he found Captain Kaleesh facing over three dozen guards.

Despite the uneven numbers, the guards looked at Kaleesh with uncertain eyes. They must have heard the calls of alarm, but it seemed they hadn’t yet seen through the captain’s disguise. And now, they found themselves torn between their own instincts and the supposed Ranger’s orders.

"Master Ranger," the guards’ leader said in a pleading voice, "please, allow us close the gate. Whatever orders Lord Kadun gave you, surely you can see that the situation has changed. I beg of you, step aside."

So focused were the guards on the captain that they didn’t notice Arran’s approach. Yet Kaleesh was more observant, and he gave Arran a subtle glance.

The gesture was barely noticeable, but Arran understood it at once — the captain wanted him to move behind the group of guards, to cut off any who tried to escape what would come next.

As Arran silently moved into position, the captain’s voiced sounded, "Our Lord’s orders are not to be questioned. Stand down at once."

"I... I can’t do that," the guards’ leader replied, a slight tremble in his voice as if he could scarcely believe what he was saying. But then, more firmly, he continued, "Men, close the gate."

Arran could not help but admire the man’s courage. To openly resist a superior’s orders required no small amount of willpower. And had the captain truly been a Ranger, the guard’s act of courage might have saved the city.

Yet as it was, the guard’s bravery only earned him a quick death. The moment the man ordered his men to close the gate, Kaleesh attacked, striking him down with a single blow before turning to the other guards.

Arran followed the captain’s example at once, lunging at the back of the group and cutting down a handful of guards before they even realized he was there.

What followed was a slaughter rather than a battle, as brief as it was brutal. Both Arran and Kaleesh could have easily defeated the entire group themselves, and without having to resort to such cheap tricks.

But their goal wasn’t merely to defeat the guards. Rather, it was to defeat them without giving any the chance to escape.

When the last of the guards fell, barely a minute later, Kaleesh gave a wistful sigh. "It was necessary," he said, almost as if he was trying to convince himself.

Yet Arran knew it was the truth. Killing the guards had only bought them a small amount of time — minutes, at most — but even that might mean the difference between success and failure.

"It won’t be long before others arrive," he said. "We should get into position."

The captain nodded. "One of us will have to defend the approach," he said, "while the other defends the gate."

After months of studying the captain’s manuscripts, Arran had no need to guess at the man’s intentions — not for a battle as simple as this one.

Between the walls and the city proper lay an empty area, at least fifty paces wide. If they both remained at the gate, Kadun’s troops could use that empty space to form ranks and riddle them with arrows from a distance.

The only way to stop that from happening was to break the Darians’ groups as soon as they arrived, causing enough chaos among their ranks to stop them from launching a coordinated attack on the gate.

"I’ll take the approach," Arran said. "You take the gate."

Kaleesh gave him a questioning look. "Are you sure?"

"I am," Arran said. "Let’s move."

The task he’d chosen was the more dangerous one, but with the Blood Ruin already strengthening him, he should have little risk of dying at the hands of the soldiers and Rangers he would face.

His real concern were the Knights. And the more enemies he killed, the better his chances would be if one of those appeared.

"Good luck," Kaleesh said.

"The same to you," Arran replied.

There was no need for further words. They both knew their tasks, and neither of them lacked experience in battle.

Now, all that remained was to see whether their strength was enough.

Arran hurried to his position, quickly hiding himself next to one of the buildings that stood opposite the gate. And not a moment too soon, because only seconds later, a large group of soldiers arrived, led by two Rangers.

The soldiers came to an immediate halt when they saw the scene before them — dozens of dead bodies littering the ground in front of the opened gate. It was hard to say whether the gate or the bodies shocked them more, but for a moment, they stood in stunned silence.

Then, one of the Rangers yelled, "Close the gate!"

Yet as the words left his mouth, Arran had already covered the distance to the group, and he fell upon the soldiers with a furious rage, immediately setting to work cutting a bloody path through their ranks.

The soldiers were mere obstacles that stood between him and his true target — the Rangers. Because when the two leaders died, he knew the group would fall apart in an instant.

Arran did not hold back as he attacked, his Living Shadow sword tearing through his opponents like a scythe through wheat. It was a strength the soldiers could not hope to match, a strength against which their only choices were to either flee or die.

Faced with such fury, the group broke well before Arran had expected — before he even reached the Rangers. Yet as the soldiers fled in all directions, the two Rangers stood their ground, facing Arran with drawn weapons and grim faces.

The first few seconds of battle proved that both Rangers were impressively skilled, dodging and deflecting Arran’s blows as best they could. Yet the seconds that followed proved that their skill was no match for Arran’s raw strength.

Try as they might, there was no defending against an enemy like this — an enemy whose strikes brought them to their knees even when they parried them.

Just moments later, both Rangers lay dead on the ground, one missing his head while the other’s skull was split down to the neck.

This was enough to break the spirits of the last few soldiers who still remained, and they fled instantly, some running back into the city while others ran toward the gate.

Arran ignored them all. Kaleesh could take those who reached the gate, and while the others would doubtless return with reinforcements, there was no time to chase them down. Because already, Arran Sensed that two other groups were converging on the gate.

The new groups fared no better than the first. One lacked Rangers altogether, and they broke before Arran could cut down even a handful of their number. The other group did have a Ranger, but it made little difference. The man barely lasted a moment, and as his body hit the ground, the soldiers accompanying him fled in a blind panic.

Then, suddenly, the large clearing before the gate was quiet, with the only sounds to be heard the soft groans of dying soldiers.

Arran knew the peace would not last long. Because in the distance, he Sensed a far larger group of soldiers approaching. And unlike the previous groups, he knew that this group would already know what awaited them.

Barely two minutes later, the soldiers suddenly flooded into the clearing — hundreds of them, perhaps even thousands. Some of these headed straight for the gate, but the majority hurried toward Arran, instantly moving to encircle him.

It was a sound tactic, but here, it was woefully inadequate. The soldiers were like a pack of mice trying to corner a bear, and Arran did not hesitate for even a second as he plunged himself into their ranks.

What followed was a blur of rage and madness. Arran struck those around him with furious blows, his sword not coming to a halt for even a second. Yet even as the soldiers and Rangers nearest to him tried to flee, more groups arrived, pushing Arran’s terrified opponents toward him.

Overcome with panic, they struck out blindly, not caring whether they hit friend or foe. Some of their attacks wounded Arran, but with the Blood Ruin pouring strength into his body, even his more serious injuries healed instantly.

The soldiers, however, weren’t so lucky. Their comrades’ wild strikes killed even more of them than Arran did, which further added to their panic. And in the dense mass of panicked soldiers, any who stumbled were soon trampled to death.

It was a carnage unlike any Arran had experienced before. There was no sense or reason to it — just thousands of soldiers, desperately fighting to survive and killing each other in the process.

Then, a loud voice sounded, "Retreat!"

Arran didn’t know whether the voice belonged to a Ranger or just another terrified soldier, but it didn’t matter. Others took up the call almost immediately, and within moments there wasn’t a Darian in sight who wasn’t fleeing in desperation.

The chaotic rout took even more of their lives, but it was clear that the soldiers no longer cared. None among them so much as looked back as they left their fallen comrades behind.

This time, however, there was no quiet. The ground was thick with dead and dying soldiers, and the screams and cries of the wounded and dying drowned out all other sounds.

And yet, despite the nightmarish scene, Arran Sensed that wasn’t the end of it. Already, another large group was approaching.

This time, the soldiers approached in tight ranks, spears before them as they advanced with steady steps. But it was no use — with the strength of the Blood Ruin coursing through Arran’s veins, breaking the Darians’ ranks was a simple matter, and it wasn’t long before the soldiers retreated once more, leaving even more bodies behind.

More waves of soldiers followed, with some attacking in furious charges and others advancing with slow, steady paces. But each wave left Arran stronger than before, the soldiers’ deaths fueling his strength as he fought them.

But then, he Sensed it. A shard of Living Shadow, shaped like a dagger.

A Knight. And there was still no sign of Rannoc’s troops.