The breach had opened like the jaws of a beast. The rebellion flooded into Emberpass with a fury Kael hadn't known they possessed. Firebolts streaked the sky, archers loosed arrows in waves, and steel clanged against steel in a song of war.
Kael led the charge through the broken gate, his sword glowing with the pulsing rhythm of the Forsaken Flame. His senses sharpened, time slowed. He ducked under a knight's blade, twisted, and drove his weapon into the man's armored side. Sparks flew. The knight fell.
To his right, Elara fought with grim precision. Her dual daggers danced—parrying, slicing, never hesitating. "Left flank is caving in!" she shouted over the clash. "We push now or we get buried!"
Kael nodded and waved his sword forward. "Advance! Push through the center!"
Rebels surged beside him, shouting war cries. The Sovereign's soldiers, though better armed, hadn't expected such ferocity. Many fell. Some fled.
Lysaria stood at the rear lines, hands raised high. Runes spiraled around her wrists as she summoned shields of fire to block incoming arrows. "Push hard! The bridge to the inner walls is just ahead!"
A squad of armored knights charged from the opposite archway, their captain bearing a flaming halberd. His eyes glowed with unnatural heat.
"I am Captain Varn, Flamebound of the Sovereign!" he bellowed. "You trespass on sacred ground!"
Kael stepped forward, his sword igniting. "Sacred to tyrants, maybe."
They clashed.
Varn's halberd swung like a storm, smashing into Kael's blade with brutal strength. Each hit sent shockwaves through the stone. Kael barely kept up, dodging and deflecting, until Varn overreached with a downward strike.
Kael slid beneath it, slashing upward. His sword caught under Varn's armor. With a final twist, fire exploded from the blade, engulfing the captain in a burst of orange and gold.
Varn dropped, still smoking.
The rebels cheered and surged ahead.
But there was no time to celebrate.
Elara sprinted up beside Kael, her armor scraped and bloodied. "The inner gate is closing—mechanized drawbridge. We've got maybe a minute."
Kael's mind raced. "If it shuts, we're trapped outside."
Lysaria stepped between them, breath steady despite the chaos. "I can keep it open. Briefly."
"You'll be exposed," Kael said.
She smiled faintly. "I trust you'll make it count."
Lysaria sprinted ahead, her staff glowing with intense white flame. She slammed it into the ground just as the great gate began to descend. Ancient gears groaned. Magic flared against steel.
"GO!" she yelled, sweat dripping from her brow.
Kael led the charge once more, racing across the stone bridge as the gate slowly descended. Rebels poured in behind him. Just as the gate hit the ground, Lysaria dove through the last crack, collapsing beside Kael.
They were in.
Behind them, Emberpass roared with battle, but the inner sanctum loomed quiet—too quiet.
"This is wrong," Elara muttered. "They retreated too fast."
Kael looked ahead.
The Sovereign was baiting them.
He could feel it.
"Stay sharp," he said, tightening his grip. "This isn't victory—it's the beginning of something worse."
As they moved deeper into the fortress, the rebellion's momentum slowed. Dark banners lined the walls—charred black with the Sovereign's sigil, a shattered crown over flame. Torches burned with eerie green light. Shadows felt alive.
Kael's fire dimmed slightly, reacting to something deeper, darker than he'd felt before.
Lysaria looked around warily. "The Sovereign has twisted the flame. Warped it into something unholy."
Kael nodded grimly. "Then we unmake what he built."
And in the distance, high above the sanctum towers, the black citadel shimmered into view—veiled by illusions, pulsing like a heart of fire.
The final path had opened.
The true war was just beginning.