Arden returned to the inn where the rest of his party lounged around the table, half-asleep after the day's travel and chatter.

Nyra perked up the moment she saw his face, catching the sharpness in his eyes.

"You found something."

Arden dropped into the seat beside her and poured himself water. He took a sip, slow, then said, "Yeah. More than I wanted to."

Rael leaned forward, elbows on the table. "Don't keep us guessing then. What did you learn?"

Arden glanced around the room before answering, voice kept low. "The creed isn't just sniffing around. They've already set roots in Greyhold. They're moving in waves, smuggling in members, spreading them across the town. Sabotage, and putting pressure on the merchants, slowly bleeding this place out."

Silence fell for a moment. Zephyra let out a low growl, the heat around her rising.

Nyra's jaw clenched. "If that's true, they're not just raiding supply routes. They want the town itself."

"Exactly," Arden replied, rubbing his temples. "And if Greyhold falls, the routes, the trade, the independence, it all goes down with it. Whoever controls this place controls half the flow from the outlands."

Rael gave a short, humorless laugh. "And here I was hoping we'd have at least one quiet night. Should've known better with you leading."

That earned him a glare from Nyra, though Arden cracked a tired grin. "You can blame me tomorrow. Tonight we rest. We'll keep digging in the morning."

No one argued.

The weight of what he had shared pressed down on them, though they settled into their beds soon after. Arden lay awake for a long while, staring at the ceiling, replaying every word, every shadow of suspicion he'd seen in those creed agents.

His gut warned him, but even he didn't expect what the night would bring.

By morning, Greyhold was burning.

Arden stood with his party on the cobbled street, staring at the smoke that curled into the sky.

Ash drifted in the air as townsfolk rushed about in chaos, some carrying buckets of water, others crying out in despair.

Nyra's face turned pale. "No…" She took off running, forcing them to follow.

They passed charred beams where houses had been, the smell of burnt grain hanging heavy from what used to be food stores.

A line of blackened stalls marked the marketplace, broken wood scattered, merchants weeping at what they had lost.

Even a couple of inns were caught in the destruction, their roofs caved in and flames still crackling.

Arden's fists clenched. "Damn it. They struck while we were sleeping."

A passerby stumbled by, soot covering his face. But Arden caught him by the arm, he asked. "What happened here?"

The man froze, recognition flashing across his eyes. His lips curled, but fear pulled his words out anyway. "Fires, explosions… they came out of nowhere. Some masked men, maybe mages, I couldn't tell. Stores burned, people chased, merchants attacked." His voice trembled, and resentment flickered as he jerked his arm free. "And where were you?"

Arden let him go, standing in silence as the man hurried off.

His thoughts churned. The creed had struck far, and not randomly, this was planned to cut deep, to make people bleed inside, not just in coin.

And It worked.

Whispers spread like wildfire through the crowd.

They cursed the guards for failing, cursed the council for turning blind eyes.

Fear turned into anger, and anger into blame.

And then news broke, quick and sharp, of a merchant's death.

A man well-known in Greyhold, one of the pillars of trade.

His caravan had been set on fire, and his body pulled out before dawn.

That was the spark.

Merchants began packing before the ashes cooled, pulling guards from their wagons and counting losses with pale faces.

Citizens watched in dread, knowing what it meant, if the merchants left, Greyhold would starve.

The riot rose by noon.

Shouts filled the streets, fists waved in the air, people demanding protection, demanding answers, demanding someone to blame. And when the whispers turned toward Arden's party, the mob found its outlet.

The first stone clattered at Arden's boots as he and his party walked through the square.

Then another, sharper, nicked Rael's shoulder.

"Leave our town!" a man shouted.

"You brought this here!" another cried.

Soon the voices merged into a storm. Booing, cursing, insults thrown sharper than any stone. Women pulled children behind them, spitting on the ground as the party passed.

Posters plastered the walls with crude sketches of Arden's face, branded with words, "Calamity". "Monster". "Bane of Greyhold".

Rael brushed dust off his sleeve, snorting. "Tch. At least they drew you uglier than you are. That's something."

Nyra's lips pressed tight, her eyes burning as she watched her people throw their anger at them. Zephyra's fur bristled, firelight flickering faintly, though she didn't lash out.

Arden walked at the front, expression unreadable, though his voice came calm when he finally spoke. "They're not the enemy. They're scared. That's exactly what the creed wanted."

Nyra bit her lip. "Doesn't make it easier to watch."

"No," Arden admitted, eyes scanning the posters. "But it makes it easier to understand."

In the council hall, the shouting matched the streets outside.

Councilors banged fists on tables, some demanding explanations, others pointing blame.

"This party brought the fire down on us!" one barked.

"They cleared the routes! Without them, our supplies would've choked weeks ago!" another countered.

The arguments spiraled, accusations mixing with defenses. Then the lord of Greyhold rose from his seat. His voice cut through the noise, calm yet heavy.

"Enough."

The chamber fell silent, though anger still burned in their eyes.

"We cannot afford to tear ourselves apart when the town is burning," the lord said firmly. "You may debate blame later. For now, our task is survival. The merchants must be reassured. The citizens must be calmed. And as for this… Outbound party," his gaze lingered, "they will be addressed in time."

The elders shifted, some dissatisfied, others weary. But no one argued further.

Outside, the chaos of Greyhold continued to rise, while in the shadows, Arden and his party prepared for what was coming.

Because this was no longer just about bandits or merchants.

The creed had set their sights on Greyhold. And Arden knew it was only the beginning.

A/N:

Please Send Powerstones, Tickets and Gifts.

Also, Engage by leaving Comments and Reviews.

Thanks for the support.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.