The Black Bastion did not sleep.
Even at night, the War Citadel remained alive with quiet purpose. Torches burned with steady blue flame along the stone corridors. Armored boots moved in measured rhythm across polished floors. Orders were spoken in low voices, clear and direct. No word was wasted.
Deep within the Bastion, beyond the War Chamber and behind two reinforced iron gates, lay the Hall of Oaths.
The chamber was circular and carved directly into the mountain's core. The walls were lined with ancient blades embedded into stone, each one belonging to a fallen champion of the Iron Duchy. The air inside carried a faint metallic scent, mixed with cold mana that lingered like a silent witness.
At the center stood Aurelion Varrek.
He had removed his mantle, but his presence remained heavy. His sword intent pressed against the chamber walls, causing faint scratches to form along the stone as if invisible blades brushed against it.
Two figures entered.
