Arthur hovered high above Avalon, suspended in the calm afternoon sky. Winds brushed against him, carrying the scent of ocean and earth. Below him, the beautiful island sprawled with five big cities, lush forests, agricultural fields, and dozens of smaller settlements stitched together by roads and stone paved pathways.

Behind him suspended midair was a colossal mass of materials consisting of darksteel, refined alloys, and other precious ores. Tons upon tons of raw material were needed for the next project that he was going to undertake.

Arthur rolled his shoulders once and cracked his knuckles.

“Alright,” he muttered, exhaling slowly. “Let’s start this.”

He then shut his eyes to focus. His awareness expanded outwards and it washed through Avalon like a tide, slipping through streets, valleys, forests, and underground structures. Every tree, every person, every grain of sand was mapped with impossible clarity. He found the anchor points he needed, marking five locations across the island, one at the dead-center of the island, and four were at the edges surrounding it.

He was going to build the orbital cannons and he was going to use his new power to build its foundation first and most of the parts needed for it. His control over matter manipulation is not at the atomic level, so he had to use parts like the energy core and other vital parts which were currently being fabricated by the guardian in the SOH.

And once the positions were selected, the ground began to shift. The process was not violent, at least not in a way visible to the citizens living on the island. The density of the earth increased as he compacted layers of stone and soil into reinforced foundations, each one capable of supporting the immense power the orbital cannons would generate.

After increasing the density of the ground he telekinetically controlled the materials floating behind him to move towards the five locations.

With a mental command from Arthur, the raw materials broke apart into fragments, then into finer pieces, then into microscopic particles as he decomposed and started to reshape their structures. Even though his matter manipulation wasn’t fine enough to manipulate atomic structures, it was more than enough to sculpt alloys to create the skeletal components the cannons required.

Darksteel spiraled into elongated beams. Reinforced alloys flattened into panels that folded into intricate geometric forms. Heavy supports twisted into spirals and rings.

Arthur remained still, letting his mind work faster than his hands ever could. Five separate constructs took shape simultaneously, each tailored to withstand enormous stress and heat output. They were monstrous, each standing tall as a fortress tower, but compact enough to hide within the island’s environment without disrupting city layouts.

Halfway through the assembly, the Guardian contacted him. [Commander, the Energy cores and other vital components are complete.]

“Good timing,” Arthur replied under his breath.

Five huge energy cores, the heart of the cannons, materialized from his storage space. He guided them delicately into place, embedding them deep within the internal lattice of each structure. Once the cores clicked into alignment, the cannons’ internal circuits came to life, creating faint ripples of energy around their cannons.

And within an hour he was finished with the construction of the five orbital cannons.

Arthur opened his eyes and surveyed the result.

Five colossal orbital cannons stood across Avalon, their surfaces smooth and matte, designed to blend with the terrain. Each one had enough power to fire an uninterrupted beam for an entire minute, then it would need to go into cooldown mode due to overheating. 

But a single shot for a few seconds could take down a Sage rank expert easily or vaporize anything foolish enough to approach the island with hostile intent, so a minute was more than enough and there were five such cannons so it could be considered an overkill.

“Overkill?” he mused.

Maybe, but Avalon deserved such defence. Even more so after he had made some powerful enemies.

With the defenses in place that could defend Avalon even with the absence of its powerhouses, Arthur turned his attention to the next part of the plan, building the radar.

He reached into his dimensional storage and withdrew a chunk of mithril. The metal reflected the sunlight with a soft glow as Arthur held it between his palms and gradually shaped it into a smooth orb, its surface polished through Matter Manipulation.

He then focused on engraving the detection rune, and crafting the rune required more focus.

Aether swirled through his fingertips, forming thin channels of energy that he carved into the mithril surface. The rune structure was complex, a web of interconnected flows designed to sense distortions in space, fluctuations in mana, and high-speed objects traveling across vast distances.

He breathed out slowly, imprinting the final sequence.

Once completed, he retrieved a specialized cube-shaped radar crafted by the guardian. Its center contained a circular slot. Arthur fitted the rune orb inside, and the cube came to life, with arcs of blue-white energy weaving through its energy channels.

When he flew toward the central orbital cannon and set the radar in place, the entire structure responded with a deep, resonant hum. 

The detection field stretched outward in an invisible dome, covering one thousand miles in every direction of the island. The radar had the capability to detect any high speed projectile, spatial distortions, and many other things be it from a living or non-living object. Nothing would approach Avalon without him or the guardian knowing.

Arthur watched the system stabilize, nodded once in satisfaction, and flew off toward the horizon.

…

Far from Avalon, in the gilded halls of one of the three dragon kingdoms, a storm was brewing.

Inside a massive royal chamber which was vast enough to swallow an entire mansion, and had a domed ceiling carved with ancient depictions of dragons coiled around stars was the current Dragon King seated on the throne.

His silver- hair cascaded over armor forged from iridescent scales of some unknown creature. His pupils were thin slits that could freeze any man, showing the depth of power and authority beneath his composed exterior. His hands rested on the arms of the throne, fingers tapping slowly as he listened to the messenger kneeling before him.

“What did you say?” Vaelrond asked, his voice was quiet, but carrying enough weight to make the man kneeling in front of him shiver in trepidation.

The messenger swallowed, bowing his head further down to avoid looking at the cold eyes of the king.

“Your Majesty… the man who was last seen fighting with Prince Roderic…reports say he has been sighted on the island owned by Lord Augustus.”

The chamber chilled instantly, and the temperature plummeted to biting frost. A faint crackle of power rippled through the air, enough to make the messenger flinch.

Vaelrond did not move for several long seconds. But the anger gathering in his eyes was evident.

“So,” he murmured softly, “Augustus lied to me.”

The oath made decades ago between him and Augustus, Selene’s grandfather had been based on trust, a promise that Arthur had died along with Vaelrond’s grandson Roderic in that cursed Ancient Realm. 

Vaelrond was one of the three dragon kings, and he was a powerhouse of the Transcended realm, sitting almost at the top of the world. There was only a single realm above which was the Demi-god realm and for thousands of years no one has reached that realm, at least no one knows if anyone has reached it or not.

So he fears no one, but going against another Transcended rank powerhouse was another matter. So, Vaelrond had swallowed his anger at the death of his beloved grandson, as there was no evidence pointing that it was Arthur who killed Roderic.

But if Arthur was alive… Then the lie had cost him his grandson’s vengeance. And the Dragon King felt every ember of that betrayal burn to life inside him.

He turned slowly toward the armored figure standing to his right, a knight clad in charcoal-black plate armor, his presence was sharp and suffocating even without releasing his aura.

“Bring me his head,” Vaelrond said, and each of his words was absolute. “At any cost.”

The knight knelt wordlessly. “As you command.”

Then he dissolved into shadow, vanishing without a trace.

Vaelrond shifted his gaze back to the messenger, his expression returning to calm.

“You may go,” he said. “And inform Augustus that since he lied, our agreement is annulled.”

The messenger bowed and left.

Once alone, Vaelrond closed his eyes.

…

In the Bahram Estate, a different but familiar sight could be seen.

Count Bahram sat at a heavy table in his private study, nursing a cup of wine as he reviewed some reports. The room was dimly lit, lined with books and artifacts taken from the demons he killed. His expression remained stone-like, calm, stoic, and unreadable.

A knock came at the door.

“Enter,” he said, taking a sip without looking up.

A nervous attendant stepped in. “My lord… we received new information.”

Bahram turned a page. “Speak.”

“T-there has been a sighting… a man matching Arthur’s description has appeared in Avalon.”

Bahram’s hand stilled. He set the cup down carefully, and only then did he raise his gaze. His eyes were cold.

“Is the information reliable?”

“T-they appear to be, my lord.”

Silence stretched as Count Bahram leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled thoughtfully. “So the murderer of my son resurfaces after nearly three decades.”

The attendant swallowed. “Should we mobilize forces? Or request aid from the Church?”

Bahram cut him off with a wave of his hand. “No. Not yet.”

Bahram rose slowly from his seat and turned toward the window, staring into the night sky.

“Send some spies to Avalon,” he said. “I want confirmation if the person is him. And I want everything about that lad on my table within a week.”

“Yes my lord.” the attendant then hesitated a bit and asked. “What would you do if it really is the person who…” He didn’t complete his sentence, but the count could understand what he wanted to say.

Bahram’s lips curled into a thin, humorless smile. “Then I will decide how best to proceed. Revenge is a dish that cannot be rushed.”

…

Across the city, in the radiant halls of the Church of Brightwater, the Cardinal listened to the same news, but reacted differently.

Cardinal Rubio was a tall, severe man draped in gold-embroidered robes. Dozens of candles flickered around him as he stood before a stained-glass window depicting Theia, the Goddess of Light.

A priest knelt behind him, with his head bowed. “Your Holiness… we have received reports of a fugitive believed to be hiding on Avalon. A man accused of murdering a noble a few decades ago.”

Rubio clasped his hands behind his back. “Arthur Sully.”

The priest nodded. “Yes.”

“Hmm.”

Rubio’s gaze tracked the stained glass, studying the depiction of divine flames.

“Send an envoy,” he commanded. “Instruct them to demand that Avalon turn him over. We will judge him accordingly.”

The priest asked. “Your Holiness… if they refuse to comply?”

Rubio smiled faintly.

“Then we shall consider Avalon openly noncompliant with the Church’s order. And once they bear that label…” He turned, his expression sharpening a bit. “There is no corner of this world that will shelter them.”

The priest bowed, “At once, Your Holiness.” and left the hall.

***

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