themonasnovels Chapter 16: The Templars enter a haunted fortress
Chapter 16: The Templars enter a haunted fortress
Chapter 16 - The Templars enter a haunted fortressPreviously~
Edward's laughter slowed to a sly chuckle
. "Hey, King... is your palace a farm?" he tilted his head toward Donald. "Because I could've sworn I heard a pig squeal."
"You bastard!"
Donald snarled, his nostrils flaring.
WHAM!
Donald lunged. His blade howled through the air
.
VSHOOM!
But Edward was gone—vanishing just before the steel could taste blood, wind whipping in his wake.
—------------------------------------------------------
The force of Donald's swing carried him forward, boots skidding on the polished stone. He whirled around, teeth bared, eyes
"Fall back!" shouted Christian Classon, the Lord Marshal of the Templars, his voice cutting through the chaos. But it was already too late.
The Shadows swarmed from all sides, attacking with precision and brutal speed. They moved like ghosts—there one moment, gone the next. A Templar tried to strike one down, but his sword passed through the figure like a wisp of smoke. Another Templar tried to block a blow, but the shadow's dagger found its mark, puncturing his throat with the speed of a snake's strike.
The Templars fought back valiantly, but they were losing ground. Their movements were heavy from exhaustion, their swords slow and sluggish against the lethal precision of the Shadows. Christian himself was locked in a brutal exchange with one of the assassins, his shield parrying the blow only just in time. Each strike he delivered seemed to take more energy than the last, and the Shadows seemed to grow in number with every breath.
Then, without warning, the walls of the great hall seemed to pulse—an ominous hissing sound rising from the stone. A noxious gas began to seep from the cracks, thick and suffocating.
"Gas!" Christian shouted, his voice rising in alarm.
But the Templars were already too late. The gas spread quickly, curling into their lungs like an insidious snake. One by one, they staggered and fell, their faces contorted in pain, gasping for breath. Their armor clanked as they dropped to the cold stone floor, unconscious, their bodies too weak to fight it off.
Only Christian Classon and a few others remained standing, their faces pale, sweat dripping from their brows as they fought the overwhelming sensation of vertigo. But it was clear: this was no ordinary poison. The shadows were closing in around them now, encircling their remaining forces.
And just when all seemed lost, a figure emerged from the deepest shadows—tall, imposing, and wrapped in a cloak that seemed to absorb the light.
Thomas Duskrane.
His eyes gleamed with an unsettling calm, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he surveyed the fallen Templars. The air seemed to grow colder still as he stepped forward, his footsteps echoing across the hall like a death knell.
Christian Classon's heart skipped a beat, a cold shiver running down his spine as he faced the old Count of Duskrane County. The old man was an enigma, his reputation darker than the shadows themselves. And now, in this forsaken fortress, Thomas stood before him—his eyes burning with a malicious light.
"You've come to reclaim what's mine, Lord Marshal," Thomas's voice was low and chilling, his words dripping with an eerie calmness. "But this... this is where your journey ends."
Christian's sword arm trembled, but his resolve remained. "We will not be so easily defeated, Count. Your shadows can't save you."
Thomas chuckled, the sound echoing off the cold walls. "We shall see, Marshal. We shall see."
And with that, the darkness closed in, the figure of Thomas Duskrane towering over them, his presence a harbinger of doom.