Chapter 65: Whispers of the Fallen
The night was unnaturally quiet, as if the battlefield itself dared not breathe.
Kael stood alone on the fortress wall, eyes fixed on the ravaged lands beyond the horizon. The fires of war still burned in the distance—embers flickering like dying stars. His armor, cracked and soaked in blood both his and others', felt heavier than ever. But it wasn't the weight of battle that burdened him tonight.
It was the voices.
System Alert: New Vision Protocol Unlocked—[Whispers of the Fallen]
Description: The host may now glimpse echoes of those who have perished in the current war. These visions are tethered to their dying thoughts. Viewer discretion advised.
His breath caught. The screen dissolved into mist as if inhaling the darkness—and then, visions came.
The world shifted.
Location: Ridge of Ironblood – Two Days Ago
Private Renn of the Flameclaw Division lay crushed beneath a fallen boulder, his leg twisted at a sickening angle. The enemy had swarmed their position, and the ridge was lost in chaos.
Renn had been only seventeen—a recruit too young to hold a sword properly, yet fearless when Kael once raised his banner before the legion. In his final moments, Renn didn't cry out. Instead, he whispered, "My brother… Tell him I guarded his back. Just like I promised, General."
Kael's vision trembled as the boy's voice faded like ashes on wind.
Location: Western Palisade – Dawn
Captain Mira of the Twilight Lancers faced an overwhelming force. The enemy's warbeasts—hulking creatures clad in obsidian armor and glowing with molten runes—had breached the wooden gates. Her squad, once thirty strong, had dwindled to five.
But Mira stood tall, her silver glaive a blur as she danced through enemy ranks, carving through muscle and metal alike.
"Even if the gods forsake us," she thought as she was impaled through the chest by a burning spear, "Kael did not. My blade will echo until his victory."
Kael clenched his fists. Mira had once been saved by him during the Slaughter of Black Hollow. She'd become one of the finest battlefield captains under General Aeralith, known for her ruthless speed and surgical strikes.
And now… gone.
Current Time: Fortress of Tharagon's End
Kael's breathing was shallow.
He turned from the wall and walked into the war tent. Ashira was already there, sitting beside the flame pit, eyes closed in meditation. Her skin was pale—too pale.
"You used it again, didn't you?" Kael asked quietly.
Ashira opened her eyes, violet and stormy. "The blood of the fallen lingers in the air, Kael. Magic stirs. It carries their emotions like threads of fate. If I can tap into it… maybe we can understand what the enemy truly fears."
"They fear us," growled Kael. "And they should."
Ashira studied him. "But what do we fear, Kael?"
He didn't answer. Instead, he called forth the system window again.
System Update: Echoes Available—6 Remaining Visions.
He exhaled and chose the next one.
Location: Eastern Flank – Under Siege
Sergeant Doma of the Ironmane stood his ground against a towering beast from the Arakhan Legion—a twelve-foot brute called a "Gravemaw," fused with bones of devoured victims. It carried an axe forged from stolen relics and armor that hissed with soul-fire.
Doma fought with both hands wrapped in chain gauntlets, using momentum and brute force.
"For Kael," he shouted as he took a fatal blow to the side but managed to wrap his chain around the Gravemaw's throat and snap its neck. The two fell together.
"Tell the Empire I held…"
Silence.
Kael staggered back, his system blinking with urgent notifications, but he dismissed them all. The fury burning inside him was hotter than the enemy's flame artillery.
His tent flaps opened.
A figure stepped in—Kael's First General.
Scarred, broad-shouldered, wrapped in bone-plated black armor—the man's name was Tharak Volen, commander of the Emberguard and the earliest to swear fealty to Kael. His voice was a rasp from years of war: "You saw them too, didn't you?"
Kael nodded. "They were ready to die for us. Some didn't even ask why. They just believed."
Tharak dropped a scroll on the war table. "Then let their belief not go to waste."
The map unfurled. A ridge, labeled Varnak's Crest, pulsed in red.
"They're massing everything there," Tharak said. "If we don't cut it off, they'll collapse the entire eastern trench."
Kael looked up.
"Then we storm it at dawn."
Later That Night
Alone again, Kael activated the next vision. This one, the system warned, was unstable.
Unknown Location – Between Life and Death
Kael stood in a field of pale white flowers, their petals whispering like wind chimes. A young soldier stood in front of him, not older than fifteen. He had no wounds. No armor.
"I wasn't even supposed to be here," the boy said. "I lied about my age. I just wanted to fight beside my brother."
Kael knelt. "What's your name?"
The boy smiled. "Loran."
A moment passed.
"Tell my mother… I'm sorry I broke my promise."
Then he vanished.
The flowers withered instantly.
Kael collapsed to one knee. The visions ended.
The Next Morning – Fortress Courtyard
Kael stood before his army. Thousands had gathered, their armor gleaming with blood, their eyes sunken but determined. The seven banners of his generals flew high, each one burned and torn but proud.
He raised his voice, and the wind carried it over the silent field.
"We do not mourn the fallen as forgotten! Their sacrifice echoes in every step we take, every sword we swing!"
He turned toward his generals—Tharak, Ashira, and the others—his eyes burning.
"Today, we bring those echoes to life. We carry them into battle. We make them remembered!"
A roar shook the ground.
System Update: Passive Buff Activated—"Echoes of Valor"
Effect: Morale of all allied units increased by 30%. Physical resistance increased by 10% for the next major battle.
Later—Preparation for the Battle of Varnak's Crest
Tharak selected his Emberguard elites—hulking warriors who wielded storm-hammers and wore fire-resistant obsidian armor. Ashira handpicked her spellcasters, all carrying crystallized arcane blood to disrupt enemy war formations.
Kael readied his own unit—The Vindicator Vanguard. Black and crimson cloaks. Shadowsteel blades. Each had survived at least five major battles.
Their objective: flank the ridge, collapse its core, and tear down the enemy's forward command center.
But before they moved out, Kael stood atop the eastern battlement and whispered, just for himself:
"For every whisper in the dark… I will answer with fire."