A Background Character’s Path to Power

"Are you ready?"

The Baron asked, his back still turned to the group as he stood before the reinforced obsidian door. His hand rested against the cold metal, fingers flexing in grim determination.

"Yes."

The reply came in unison, sharp and decisive.

Behind him, the assembled guards, scouts, and Resonators stood in formation, their breaths misting in the chilled air of the castle's hidden side exit.

They had already simulated this three times. Almost every step, every contingency, every possible threat had been accounted for.

The Baron exhaled, his breath a white plume in the dim torchlight.

"Then, let's begin."

With a grunt of effort, he pushed the massive door open. A slight force met his resistance, the accumulated snow of the ceaseless blizzard pressing in from the outside. But he persevered, and with a creak and a groan, a sliver of the raging storm was exposed.

As soon as the gap was wide enough, everyone surged out, their heavy winter coats and the occasional clink of armor creating a muffled symphony against the wind's howl.

Behind them, Aeron, the Head Healer, and Professor Harken remained inside, their presence a deliberate part of the strategy.

"Urgh..."

The Professor swiftly pulled the door shut, his hand glowing faintly as a quick burst of wind aura efficiently cleansed the lingering mist and snow from the entrance.

Outside, the main force quickly divided into their pre-assigned groups, melting into the swirling white chaos, each heading towards their designated objectives.

Elria, the Vice-Captain of the guards, drove her unit forward through the swirling storm. Their heavy boots crunched on the freshly fallen snow, each step a battle against the elements.

Their target destination lay ahead, a strategic point in the town where they planned to meet the enemy head-on.

And, they have already been warned that the eyes in the snow seemed to know their every move and coordinated the moment they stepped into the blizzard's embrace.

Sure enough, not a few minutes had passed when enemies materialized from the whiteout.

A group of mistborns, their translucent forms barely visible against the snow, was led by the ominous, unblinking eyes in the snow.

Suddenly, all the Mistborns coalesced, their vortex-like heads spiraling as if to hypnotize them, whispering words that slithered into the biting wind:

"Weee... seeeee youuuu..."

Elria's unit exchanged quick glances, a shared chuckle passing between them. Then, without hesitation, they launched themselves at the encroaching enemies.

"Your whispers are dull today, monster!" Elria's voice, though muffled by the storm, carried a clear note of mockery, a fire of determination igniting in her eyes.

They were already prepared.

Countermeasures against the mental attacks were already in place: their ears were covered by special objects and reinforced by their own aura.

It wouldn't completely block the insidious whispers, but the roaring blizzard's sounds and their own aura provided enough natural interference to dull their hypnotic effect.

Now, they could fight without worrying about immediate mental incapacitation, at least, not until the Lament Shroud's core consciousness decided to make a direct appearance.

[Gale Slash]

Elria lunged first, her blade igniting with wind aura, slicing through the nearest Mistborn in a single, brutal arc. The creature shrieked as it dispersed, its form dissolving into the storm.

Her unit followed suit, their movements synchronized despite the blizzard's oppressive weight.

Yet—

They were slower.

The snow dragged at their limbs, the cold numbing their reflexes. The Mistborn, unhindered by the storm, moved like liquid shadows, slipping between strikes and reforming just as quickly.

Reflexes, honed through years of training, felt sluggish, making their engagement against the elusive Mistborns a difficult dance. Each strike was slower, each parry less sharp. But as long as they played their part, drawing the enemy's attention and holding their ground, they believed they would soon contribute to the annihilation of the monster.

Are the others doing ok?

Elria wondered, her chest heaving as she finally put down the last Mistborn in her immediate vicinity with a powerful swing of her frost-rimmed greatsword.

But the eyes in the snow that were watching simply pulsed, and even more Mistborns began to form from the swirling mist and snow, forcing Elria to quickly refocus on the immediate, overwhelming threat to her own unit.

On the other side of the roaring blizzard, the Baron led his small unit, consisting of Zephyr and Lumin, toward the lower Keep.

Their destination was the west wing anchor, the very one they had visited previously.

But, just like the other groups, they were constantly assailed, ambushed by the ever-present eyes in the snow and their accompanying armies of Mistborns.

But for them, the difficulty was noticeably lower.

This was thanks almost entirely to Baron Nusayel himself.

Now, without the distractions of managing a wider battlefront or worrying about corrupted victims, he moved with an unbridled ferocity.

The Mistborns and their controlling eyes, mostly lesser and dire beasts, with only a few reaching the Greater Beast rank capable of controlling mist and phasing through physical attacks, posed only a so-so threat to him.

With his spear relic alight, the Baron was unmatched.

He was a whirlwind of controlled power, each thrust of his spear ripping through the Mistborns with effortless precision, dispersing them before they could even fully coalesce or whisper their hypnotic threats.

He moved like a force of nature, clearing a path through the swirling chaos, Zephyr and Lumin staying close behind him, reacting at the right times, but rarely needing to intervene.

The snow parted before the baron's relentless advance, and the enemy melted away like ghosts.

"You guys were right, it can't fully manifest if it is dividing its focus!" the Baron's voice boomed, cutting through the howl of the storm as they began their descent through the snow-choked passage that once served as stairs.

Zephyr and Lumin nodded, barely managing to hear him while carefully advancing behind.

To their fortune and gratitude, Baron Nusayel was taking the full brunt of the swirling snow and wind. And the snow beneath their feet was heavy and compacted, providing solid footing; otherwise, navigating the treacherous path would have been far more difficult.

It was probably because it had been a full week since the blizzard began, allowing the snow to settle into a dense, icy mass.

"Looks like they sent a welcome unit," the Baron rumbled, his gaze hardening as they finally reached their destination.