Forge Of Fate: A Blacksmiths Journey

Vaelis Thornbloom did not believe in mercy.

Mercy was a privilege, given to those who understood restraint.

House Belvade had shown none.

Their gold had paid for assassins. Their influence had shielded murderers. Their arrogance had fueled the Blood Nights.

And now, Vaelis had come to collect.

The estate of House Belvade was a fortress—dark stone walls standing like sentinels, iron-barred gates locked tight, and a courtyard filled with trained warhounds and mercenaries. Unlike the gaudy estates of Davros or the arcane sanctum of Valren, House Belvade prided itself on raw might.

Vaelis stood outside the gates, his breath misting in the cold night air.

Beside him, his wolves waited.

Five dire wolves, their fur sleek and their eyes glowing with eerie intelligence. They were silent, disciplined, watching their master for a command.

Vaelis raised his hand.

A single snap of his fingers.

The wolves vanished into the darkness.

Inside the walls, the guards barely had time to react before the first screams rang out.

The moment the gates opened, Vaelis moved.

The first mercenary to spot him raised his blade—only for a massive shape to crash into him from the shadows. A wolf twice the size of a man clamped its jaws around his throat, dragging him down with a sickening crunch.

Another mercenary turned, raising his spear—too slow.

A blur of gray fur lunged, tearing into his side, fangs sinking deep. He collapsed, choking on blood.

The rest panicked, forming a defensive line.

Vaelis strode past the fallen, his eyes cold. "Hold the exits," he murmured. His wolves fanned out, their growls low and predatory.

Then he stepped forward.

Steel met magic.

The first wave of soldiers attacked, their movements crisp, coordinated. But their discipline meant nothing when the ground beneath them betrayed them.

Vaelis whispered, and vines surged from the earth, wrapping around their limbs, dragging them down.

A man swung a halberd at his head. Vaelis ducked, letting the strike pass over him, then twisted his hand—his wolves were already moving.

A midnight-black beast lunged, slamming into the attacker's back. A dagger flashed, cutting deep. The man crumpled with a strangled gasp.

Blood stained the courtyard.

Vaelis never stopped walking.

By the time he reached the grand hall, the estate was in ruins.

The banners of House Belvade, once symbols of power, now burned in the cold night air. The scent of smoke and blood mixed in the wind, and the halls were eerily silent, save for the occasional whimper of a wounded guard.

At the far end of the chamber, Lord Belvade stood.

He was no coward. Unlike the others, he had not fled. He had gathered his strongest retainers—warriors clad in enchanted plate, their weapons crackling with mana.

Vaelis studied them.

"You were warned," he said.

Lord Belvade's jaw tightened. "You think this is justice?" he spat. "You think the Academy is beyond politics? Beyond the reach of real power?"

Vaelis sighed.

"You misunderstand."

The first of the swordsmen lunged.

Vaelis whistled.

A shadow crashed through the stained-glass window above, landing with a thunderous impact. A dire wolf, larger than a warhorse, snapped its jaws around the man's midsection and ripped.

The second warrior hesitated.

A mistake.

Vaelis flicked his fingers, and chains of molten energy erupted from the floor, wrapping around the man's limbs, dragging him to his knees.

The last guard turned to flee.

A pair of yellow eyes glowed in the darkness.

The wolf was on him before he reached the door.

Lord Belvade paled.

He had lost before he had even drawn his sword.

Vaelis stepped closer.

"This isn't about justice," he said.

With a flick of his wrist, golden chains wrapped around the noble's arms, forcing him down.

"It's about consequences."

Lord Belvade tried to speak, but the chains tightened.

Behind Vaelis, his wolves howled.

By the time he dragged the noble from his burning estate, his words had turned to screams.

Two weeks.

Three nobles.

By the end of it, all of them knelt before Valdris.

Their titles were worthless. Their power stripped.