The Fall Of House Whiteguard (2)

Thank you, DereckESCL, for the two Power Stones!

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The sound of the door closing echoed through the empty hallway as Ciaran stepped out of his office. He glanced back at Melissa, his heart aching for her, who was still lying on the couch, her chest rising and falling slowly. The memory of their impromptu intimate encounter was still fresh in his mind.

Ciaran walked towards the training hall, his footsteps creating echoes on the tiled floor. While passing by Sarya's room, he let out a heavy sigh. He stopped for a moment, his hand on the doorknob, but then decided against it and continued walking. Although he longed to see Cas, he knew he needed to focus on his training. The upcoming battle would be the biggest of his life, and he couldn't afford to get distracted.

Cas's sensitive ears heard the footstep stop just outside her mother's door, and for a moment, she felt elated. But that hope was fleeting, and the footsteps carried it with them as they departed. "I'm no longer useful to him, Mother," Cas whispered to her mother, who peacefully slept before tears began to fall from her eyes. 

In the training hall, the air was thick with the scent of sweat and exertion, a testament to the hard work and dedication of the trainees. The sound of heavy breathing and the clanging of weapons filled the room, creating a symphony of determination. The other trainees were already hard at work, their muscles straining as they pushed themselves to the limit. Ciaran watched them for a moment, his mind wandering, before he shook himself out of his reverie and walked over to Zoverth, who was leading the training session.

"How are they looking?" He asked the powerful half-orc.

"Your father took great pride in training his soldiers." She begrudgingly admitted.

"Good." Ciaran nodded. "Line them up. I have an announcement."

"Troops! Fall in!" Zoverth bellowed.

All activity in the training hall came to an abrupt halt as everyone present immediately ceased what they were doing. In unison, they rushed over to form three neat rows of five, each person standing at attention with precision and discipline. The air was charged with an intense energy as the group awaited further instruction. 

Ciaran strode forward, his eyes scanning the ranks of troops before him. A satisfied smile spread across his face as he gazed at the warriors assembled there. "My warriors," he said, his voice filled with pride, "I want to thank you all from the bottom of my heart for trusting me." He paused, his hand coming to rest over his heart as he bowed slightly. When he straightened up, the smile had faded from his face, replaced with a look of grim determination. "Our first task," he declared, his voice low and intense, "will be the utter destruction of House Whiteguard." He took a long moment to observe their reactions, watching as his words sank in and the warriors faces became severe and grim.

"House Whiteguard has used the second awakening and the ensuing chaos to seize control of my father's lands. When we should be coming together as a nation to help rebuild what we have lost." He paused and pointed at a soldier, "Richard." He paused as his tone became somber, "I've just received word that Whiteguard has attacked our village near Atitry Cove." The reaction was immediate as the soldier in question gripped his weapon tighter and had a pained look on his face. "We repelled them, but there were casualties. I have Ms. Fairchild talking with the mayor to help, and I will let you know when I have the casualty list confirmed." The soldier nodded as his face became darker, itching for blood.

Ciaran paused for a moment before pointing towards Claire and Frank, his expression serious. "I'm afraid that's not all," he said. "Reports have come in indicating that Whiteguard has been seen near your village. According to Ms. Fairchild, they may be planning to probe our defenses and launch an attack."

"In response to this threat," he continued, "I have taken immediate action and mobilized multiple platoons to be sent to your village as a deterrent. Our forces will be on high alert, and we will do everything in our power to protect your community."

Claire and Frank breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing this news, grateful for the swift action taken to ensure their safety.

Ciaran spoke with conviction, his voice ringing out across the room. "I created this unit with one specific goal in mind," he declared, his eyes blazing with determination. "Our mission is to destroy any and all threats, both within and outside our domain."

He paused for a moment, allowing his words to sink in. "I want you all to understand that there will be no songs sung about you nor any glory to be gained from this task," he continued, his tone grave. "We are here to do a job, and to do it well."

With a sweep of his hand, he indicated the door. "If any of you feel that this is not for you, now is the time to leave," he said. He waited, his eyes scanning the room, but no one moved.

"Very well," he said, nodding in approval. "Let us begin."

Suddenly, Ciaran's shadow started to move; it seemed like a force of nature, with fluid and rhythmic motions, almost as if it had a life of its own. The shadow expanded rapidly, covering all the soldiers, who remained stoic in the face of the unknown. Zoverth, standing nearby, looked at Ciaran, and after a quick nod, the shadow also engulfed her. It was an eerie sight to behold, as the shadow seemed to wrap itself around Zoverth's figure like a cloak made of darkness.

As the darkness gradually receded, the group found themselves momentarily bewildered. However, as their eyes adjusted to the light, they began to notice an unusual change. Their muscles felt stronger, their reflexes sharper, and their senses heightened. They could see farther, hear more acutely, and detect even the slightest scents. The transformation was remarkable, and all eyes turned toward Ciaran as they looked at him in awe. 

"Listen up, my Death Knights! We march upon House Whiteguard in three days. Is that clear?" Ciaran declared, throwing a fist in the air.

A sudden wave of excitement washed over the crowd of enhanced soldiers, causing their hearts to race with anticipation. The air was electric with the sound of thunderous applause and cheers that echoed through the grand halls of Maxamus Manor, reaching even the farthest corners of the estate. 

Meanwhile, back in the office, Melissa opened her eyes and sat up, a faint blush on her cheeks. She ran her fingers through her hair, still feeling the warmth of Ciaran's touch. She couldn't help but smile as she remembered the way he had shown her true pleasure. The memory of their brief moment together lingered in her mind, making her heart skip a beat.

But she needed to focus. Standing up and fixing her hair, Melissa headed over to his desk, which had a map showing all of the territories that belonged to House Maxamus. Ciaran had entrusted her with House Maxamus while he battled Whiteguard. This feeling of power was intoxicating, and she would be lying if she said she wasn't intimated. 

Yet she steeled her will as she touched the sending stone- a communication device that allowed one to converse with another over long distances, embedded into the desk. He trusted her, and she would rather die than betray that trust. 

"Lord Maxamus?" An older voice asked over the channel. 

"This is Lady Fairchild. I speak on Lord Maxmaus's behalf." Melissa replied.