Zhuan Fei died before he could issue another order.He stood on the second tier, saber raised, calling his guards to hold. Chaghan reached him first. The Stormguard commander vaulted the rubble without a sound, broke into the upper balcony, and met him face to face.Zhuan Fei's saber swung—precise, quick, aimed at the neck. Chaghan caught it with his shield, twisted, and stepped inside. The Iron Reversal broke the commander's stance. A flash of steel followed. Chaghan's blade punched under the ribs and split the spine. Zhuan Fei gasped once, eyes wide. Then nothing. He dropped. His blood ran down the stone rail.The adjutants fled. Chaghan didn't follow. He looked down.
Below, the Final Gate stood sealed.
Stormguard held the courtyard. Bodies lay twisted across every stone. Blood soaked the tiles. Broken glaives jutted from corpses. Smoke drifted off glyphfire burns. A severed hand clutched a shattered buckler. Part of a skull, split clean in half, steamed against the ground. A pile of dead had fused together at the center, stuck by congealed blood and crushed armor.
A Stormguard knelt beside a fallen brother. He removed a splintered saber from the man's chest, then rose. No cry. No gesture.
Stormwake stepped over a dying Zhong guard, boots soaked to the knee. His armor bore fresh dents and streaks of black blood. Behind him came the handlers—tight-jawed, eyes rimmed with soot. Each one gripped the iron chain with both hands."Bring it."They didn't speak. Stormwake lifted his gauntlet and pointed. "Urgalok."
The beast announced itself before it arrived. Chains dragged over tile. Then came the sound of bone striking stone—massive hooves cratering the ground.Urgalok thundered into view.Twenty feet at the shoulder. Blacksteel harness clamped into its hide. Tusks wet from earlier kills. Its breath hissed like a forge. Steam poured from its nostrils. Each step gouged the stone floor. Old chains still clung to its sides, whipping as it moved.The glyphplate on its skull glowed with low amber light. The beast's name, carved in iron: URGALOK.
Stormwake didn't give an order. He just turned.The handlers released the chains.Urgalok bellowed. The courtyard shook.
It charged the gate.
The first impact splintered the outer frame. Stone cracked down both sides. The second hit sent the top arch keeling inward. A ward flare burst in the air and fizzled. The third hit collapsed the entire structure. Metal and rock flew out in all directions.
The Final Gate fell.
Dust and smoke filled the breach. And behind it, the Emperor's last defenders waited.
The Palace Guard elite stood in closed formation. Lamellar streaked with blood. Faces grim. Shields forward. Behind them, the hall's entrance glimmered under wardlight.Ten Stormguard remained in the vanguard. Chaghan led them.
He didn't wait.They surged forward.
The first clash sent three men down in seconds. A Stormguard took a blade to the thigh but didn't stop. He drove his shield into the enemy's jaw and gutted him with a blind stab. Another was knocked to one knee by a hammer-blow. Two spearmen rushed him—he slammed the shield upward, caught one in the throat, and used the momentum to crush the other's knee.
A curved saber locked with a shield. Chaghan advanced, caught the wielder's wrist, snapped it with a twist, and punched the blade through the man's eye.
Screams tore the air.
A Palace Guard drove a spear clean through a Stormguard's chestplate. The Stormguard grabbed the shaft, yanked it in deeper, and swung a sidearm blade across the guard's face. Blood fanned across the stone like spilled ink.
Another tried to backpedal. A Stormguard caught him mid-turn, slammed his skull into the wall, then crushed his neck with a boot.
One glaiveman spun in a defensive arc. A Stormguard dove beneath it, slashed his hamstring, rose, and drove a saber into his spine.
A fire-lash cracked across the floor. A Stormguard burned alive—armor melting into skin—but he didn't stop. He staggered, grabbed the caster by the robe, and drove his blade under the chin. Both fell together.
The enemy broke. But they didn't run.
A Palace Guard leapt from a balcony with twin daggers. Chaghan caught him midair, twisted his body sideways, and slammed him down on the edge of a broken pillar. Ribs snapped. The daggers scattered.
It wasn't a fight. It was execution. Carried out one breath at a time.
By the end, blood reached the knees.
Steam rose from dying bodies. Spears clattered to the floor. A last defender lunged with a cry—his scream ended in a wet gurgle as Chaghan cut him down mid-stride.
Chaghan turned to his ten. They stood. Bleeding, but standing.He moved forward.No words. No gestures.The Stormguard followed him through the breach.
Into the heart of the palace.
Behind them, the regular legions poured in through the rubble. Second-wave Stormguard cleared the side halls. Arrows flew from tower windows. One regulator fell with a bolt in his neck. Another breached the southern annex and flushed out a guard squad in seconds.
Doors were kicked in. Halls flooded. Steel met flesh in every room.Screams rose.Then fire.
The Final Gate had fallen.And with it, the Empire's last defense.