Chapter 14
The Butcher's Impatience
Four days.
Caspian had been fighting Blightspawn for Four days, and he was getting impatient.
This was unusual.
Typically, border campaigns were exercises in patience and precision. Assess the threat. Plan the approach. Execute methodically. Clear the incursion. Secure the perimeter. Return when the job was done properly.
He'd never been in a hurry before.
But now, watching another wave of Blightspawn emerge from the corrupted forest, Caspian felt irritation flare through him. More monsters meant more time. More time meant more delay.
More delay meant longer until he could return home.
Home.
When had Frostholme become something he was eager to return to? When had "completing the mission" shifted from dutiful obligation to obstacle between him and—
"Your Grace!" Edwin shouted from his left. "North ridge! Twenty more!"
Caspian turned, assessing the incoming threat with cold calculation. Twenty Blightspawn—corrupted wolf-creatures with crystalline growths jutting from their backs and glowing green eyes. Fast. Pack hunters. Dangerous in coordinated groups.
Normally, he'd position his troops, set up a defensive formation, handle this tactically.
He didn't have time for tactics today.
Caspian extended his senses outward, feeling the matter around him. Stone. Earth. The metal of fallen weapons from previous encounters. The very ground beneath his feet.
His power responded instantly.
The earth erupted. Stone spikes shot up in a deadly barrier, impaling half the pack before they'd crossed ten feet. The remaining Blightspawn scattered, trying to flank—
Caspian reshaped the fallen soldiers' weapons scattered across the battlefield. Swords, spears, axes—metal twisted and reformed, then launched through the air with lethal force.
Eight Blightspawn fell in the next three seconds.
The remaining two tried to retreat.
Caspian was faster.
He crossed the distance in heartbeats, Wintersbane and Frostreaver already singing through the air. His dual swords moved like extensions of his will—precise, lethal, overwhelming.
The first Blightspawn didn't even have time to register the threat before Wintersbane separated its head from its corrupted body.
The second tried to dodge.
Caspian manipulated the ground beneath its feet, stone rising to trap its legs, giving him the split-second opening he needed. Frostreaver carved through its chest, the enchanted blade cutting through corrupted flesh like it was nothing.
Silence fell on the north ridge.
Twenty Blightspawn. Eliminated in under thirty seconds.
Caspian turned back toward his men and found them staring at him.
"What?" he asked.
"Nothing, Your Grace," Thomson said quickly. "Just... that was efficient."
"Very efficient," Garrett added, his voice slightly higher than normal.
Edwin was grinning as he approached. "Efficient. That's one word for it. Absolutely terrifying is another."
"The threat has been neutralized," Caspian said. "We should press forward while we have the advantage."
"We've been pressing forward for four days straight," Edwin pointed out. "The men could use—"
"The men are soldiers," Caspian interrupted. "They can rest when the incursion is cleared."
Edwin studied him for a long moment. "You're in a hurry."
"I'm being efficient."
"You just obliterated twenty Blightspawn in thirty seconds using powers you normally reserve for extreme situations," Edwin said.
"Yesterday you personally cleared an entire corrupted grove that we'd planned to take two days to handle.
You did it in four hours. Your Grace, you're not being efficient. You're being impatient."
Caspian didn't answer, turning instead to survey the battlefield.
The border incursion was nearly contained. One more push—maybe two if they were unlucky—and the immediate threat would be eliminated. Then cleanup, securing the perimeter, ensuring no stragglers...
Under normal circumstances, he'd estimate two more days minimum.
The thought of two more days made his jaw clench.
"We move in five minutes," Caspian announced to his troops. "The main nest should be another mile northeast. We attack it hard, clear it completely, and finish this."
His soldiers exchanged glances but began preparing immediately.
Edwin fell into step beside him as they moved out.
"You know," Edwin said conversationally, "the men are taking bets on whether you're going to single-handedly fight your way through the entire Blight before dinner."
"That's absurd."
"Is it? Because you've been fighting like a man possessed for four days. And unless I'm mistaken, you're trying very hard to finish this campaign as quickly as possible."
"Quickly and properly are not mutually exclusive," Caspian said.
"True. But you're leaning heavily toward quickly." Edwin paused. "Any particular reason you're in such a hurry to get home, Your Grace?"
Caspian shot him a look.
Edwin's grin widened. "I only ask because normally you're very methodical about campaigns.
Careful. Precise. Taking exactly as long as necessary and not a moment less.
But this time..." He gestured at the path of destruction behind them.
"This time you're cutting through Blightspawn like they personally offended you. "
"They're invading the territory I'm sworn to protect," Caspian said. "That is a personal offense."
"Mm-hmm. And the fact that your wife is waiting at home has nothing to do with your newfound enthusiasm for rapid monster elimination?"
Caspian didn't answer.
"The wife who came to see you off," Edwin continued. "Who told you she'd miss you. Who looked genuinely worried about your safety."
"Focus on the mission, Captain."
"I am focused, Your Grace. I'm also observant. And what I observe is that you've mentioned Frostholme a few times in casual conversation over the last four days. You've never done that before."
"I haven't—"
"You asked if the estate guard had sent any updates," Edwin ticked off on his fingers.
"You wondered if the grain stores needed checking when we return.
You mentioned the eastern garden terrace unprompted.
And this morning, you specifically asked if Thomson thought Dreamweaver cubs required any special accommodations as they grew. "
Caspian felt his jaw tighten. "That's practical concern for my holdings."
"That's you thinking about your wife and her pet apex predator," Edwin corrected. "Which, for the record, is adorable."
"Edwin—"
"I'm just saying, Your Grace, it's nice to see you have something to come home to besides duty and paperwork."
Before Caspian could formulate a response, a scout came running back from the forward position.
"Your Grace! We've located the nest. It's bigger than we thought—approximately eighty Blightspawn, maybe more, plus what looks like a Corruption Core."
A Corruption Core. The source of the incursion. Destroy it, and the Blightspawn would lose their coordination, making cleanup significantly easier.
It was also extremely dangerous. Corruption Cores were defended by the strongest Blightspawn in the nest.
Normally, attacking a nest this size with a Core would require careful planning. Strategic positioning. Probably a day of preparation minimum.
Caspian did quick calculations. If they attack it now, hard and fast, they could break the nest before nightfall. Clear the stragglers tomorrow morning. Be back at Frostholme by tomorrow evening.
"We attack immediately," Caspian said.
"Your Grace," Thomson spoke up carefully. "A nest this size, with a Core—we should scout it properly. Plan our approach—"
"We don't have time for extended reconnaissance," Caspian said. "We know where it is. We know what we're facing. We have the advantage of surprise and superior tactics."
"And you want to be home for dinner tomorrow," Edwin muttered.
Caspian ignored him. "Standard assault formation. Thomson, take the left flank with your squad. Garrett, right flank. Edwin, you're with me on the central push. We break their defensive line, I'll handle the Core, you manage the cleanup."
"Handle the Core," Edwin repeated. "You mean destroy it yourself."
"Yes."
"The heavily defended, extremely dangerous Corruption Core that normally takes a full squad to approach safely."
"I don't need a full squad."
Edwin sighed. "Of course you don't. Because you're in a hurry to get home to your pretty wife who feeds desserts to apex predators."
Several nearby soldiers quickly looked away, though Caspian could see them fighting smiles.
"Are there any tactical concerns?" Caspian asked coldly.
"No, Your Grace," Edwin said, still grinning. "Just observing that you're about to do something extremely dangerous and impressive because you want to have tea tomorrow."
"I want to complete my mission efficiently."
"Keep telling yourself that, Your Grace."
They approached the nest carefully, Caspian's senses extended to feel the corruption tainting the matter around them. The Blightspawn had nested in what used to be a small valley, now twisted and wrong from the Blight's influence.
At the center, pulsing with sickly green light, was the Corruption Core.
Around it, dozens of Blightspawn moved in coordinated patterns. Corrupted wolves, bears, even two massive elk with crystalline antlers that could gore through armor.
It was a significant threat.
It was also between Caspian and going home.
"On my signal," Caspian said quietly. His troops positioned themselves, weapons ready.
He could feel the matter all around him. The stone of the valley. The metal in his soldiers' weapons. The very earth beneath the Blightspawn's feet.
All of it was his to command.
Caspian drew both Wintersbane and Frostreaver.
"Now."
He didn't wait for his troops to engage the outer guards. He went straight for the center.
The ground erupted beneath his feet, stone lifting him forward in a massive wave. Blightspawn turned toward the threat—
Caspian manipulated the earth beneath them. Spikes erupted upward, stone blades cutting through corrupted flesh. The creatures that dodged found themselves facing a barrage of stone projectiles launched from the valley walls.
He landed in the middle of the nest, both swords already moving.
A corrupted bear lunged. Caspian ducked under its claws, Wintersbane carving through its leg while Frostreaver found its throat. The creature fell, and he was already moving to the next threat.
The crystalline elk charged. Their antlers could pierce steel.
Caspian raised his hand, and old metal from a dozen fallen weapons flew to him. The metal reshaped in mid-air, forming a barrier that caught the elk's charge. Then the barrier shattered outward, metal shards embedding themselves in the creatures' flesh.
A wolf pack tried to flank him.
The stone beneath them became liquid for a split second, enough to throw off their balance. Then it solidified again as spikes, trapping them for the brief moment Caspian needed to eliminate them with brutal sword strikes.
His troops had engaged the outer guards, cutting off reinforcements. But the nest's center belonged to Caspian alone.
He fought through the defenders with mechanical precision, each movement economical, each strike lethal. His Matter Manipulation allowed him to fight on multiple fronts simultaneously—swords handling threats in front while stone and metal attacked from behind and above.
It wasn't elegant. It wasn't sporting.
It was devastatingly effective.
Within minutes, the path to the Corruption Core was clear.
The Core pulsed with malevolent energy, a crystalline structure about the size of a man's torso, radiating wrongness that made Caspian's skin crawl.
Destroying it wouldn't be simple. Corruption Cores were reinforced with dark magic, designed to resist normal attacks.
Good thing Caspian's attacks were anything but normal.
He approached the Core, feeling the matter that composed it. Crystalline structure, yes, but still matter. Still subject to the fundamental laws he could manipulate.
Caspian placed his hand on the Core's surface.
And then he simply... unmade it.
His power flooded into the crystalline structure, finding the bonds that held it together, the patterns that gave it form. And then he twisted those patterns, broke those bonds, reduced the entire structure to its component elements.
The Corruption Core didn't explode or shatter.
It simply ceased to exist.
The effect on the remaining Blightspawn was immediate. Without the Core's coordinating influence, they became disorganized, confused. Easy prey for his well-trained soldiers.
Caspian turned to survey the battlefield. His troops were finishing off the stragglers with professional efficiency. The nest was broken. The incursion was effectively ended.
All that remained was cleanup and securing the perimeter.
Tomorrow morning's work.
Which meant they could ride back to Frostholme tomorrow.
Edwin appeared at his side, breathing hard from combat but grinning. "That was absolutely terrifying, Your Grace. Remind me never to make you impatient."
"The Core is destroyed," Caspian said. "The threat is neutralized."
"In record time," Edwin agreed. "You just personally dismantled a Corruption Core with your bare hands. I've never seen anyone do that before."
"It's an efficient approach."
"It's showing off," Edwin corrected. "But very effective showing off."
Thomson approached, looking slightly shell-shocked. "Your Grace, we've secured the perimeter. Minimal casualties on our side. The nest is... well, it's completely destroyed."
"Good. We camp here tonight, clear any remaining stragglers at first light, then ride for home."
"Home," Edwin repeated, still grinning. "Interesting choice of words."
Caspian shot him a look, but Edwin was right. He'd said home, not Frostholme. When had that shift happened?
When had his cold military estate become somewhere he was eager to return to?
He knew the answer. He'd known it since the courtyard three days ago when Caroline had looked up at him with worried amber eyes and told him to be careful.
"Get the men settled," Caspian ordered. "I want scouts on watch rotation. No surprises tonight."
"Of course, Your Grace."
As his soldiers moved to follow orders, Caspian found a quiet spot on the ridge overlooking the destroyed nest.
Four days since he'd left. Tomorrow evening, they'd be back at Frostholme.
He wondered if Caroline had missed him as much as she'd said she would.
Wondered if she'd come to greet him when they returned, the way she'd come to see him off.
Wondered what she'd think of the fact that he'd fought through an entire Blightspawn incursion in record time, driven by the simple desire to have dinner with her again.
"Pathetic," Caspian muttered to himself.
But he was smiling slightly as he said it.
Tomorrow evening. He'd be home tomorrow evening.
And for the first time in eleven years of defending this border, that thought filled him with something warmer than duty.
Something that felt dangerously close to happiness.