Seren slowed during his patrol, pausing as he looked over the horizon and wondered what might be happening at Fort Kaelgrim. They had received news of Duke Arzan’s siege five days ago, along with new orders—orders Seren hoped he would never have to carry out.

He kept his eyes on the sky, watching the distant clouds, when his partner, Logson, finally caught up to him. The man stopped beside him, followed his gaze, and frowned.

“What are you looking at?” he asked.

Seren glanced at him. “The sky. Mostly thinking.”

“About what?”

Seren exhaled slowly. “About the siege. Do you think it’s already over? Or is it still going on right now?” He paused, then added, “We’ve been stationed here for over a month. The whole war has passed us by. I’ve missed every real battle.”

Logson frowned at that. “You should be glad. Missing battles means you don’t go home in a casket. We got a safe posting. A quiet one.”

Seren let out a short chuckle. “Guarding a hibernating beast that could flatten a small town if it wakes up isn’t exactly safe.” He hesitated. “Not with the new orders, at least.”

At that, Logson’s face went pale, and Seren didn’t need to ask why. No one in the camp liked the new orders. Everyone understood what following them meant.

If they woke the sleeping beast, the first thing it would do was kill them.

But orders were orders. Disobedience meant death—often a slower, uglier one. Sometimes it meant punishment for their family as well. And according to the latest news, King Thalric was winning the war. Which meant those orders would stand.

Seeing that his partner still looked pale, Seren spoke again.

“Don’t worry,” he said quietly. “I don’t think it will come to that. Fort Kaelgrim is one of the sturdiest forts in the kingdom. It won’t fall easily. King Thalric is prepared.”

Logson swallowed and finally nodded. “Yeah… you’re right. We should go check on the stormcrest griffin. There were small beasts near its caves. If they get inside and disturb it, things will turn bad fast.”

Seren nodded, and the two of them turned back toward the mountain, beginning the familiar climb once more.

The stormcrest griffin was no ordinary beast. It was a Grade 6 behemoth, one of the most feared creatures in the world. Thankfully, griffins like it slept for half a decade at a time when they entered hibernation. But if that sleep was broken, they didn’t go back to sleep—they went on a rampage.

And worse still, if one such beast awakened, the others resting in this region might follow.

Seren had often wondered why so many powerful beasts slept in this part of the kingdom. The Mages said it was because of a mana vein, something deep underground that fed the land and attracted monsters. Seren didn’t understand the details. He wasn’t a Mage.

He only knew one thing—if even one of those beasts woke up, keeping his head attached to his shoulders would become very difficult.

They climbed higher, moving along paths they could walk in their sleep by now. Along the way, small ashscale lizards scuttled between rocks. Whenever one showed itself, Seren or his partner drove a spear through it without slowing down.

They were weak beasts. Easy kills. And despite their ugly scales, their meat was rich with energy.

And, if Seren was honest, it tasted pretty good too.

As the third ashscale lizard of the climb appeared, Seren took the charge this time and drove his spear clean through it. The small lizard beast let out a sharp hiss before going limp. He pulled the spear free and bent down to grab it, already thinking about roasting the meat later.

Before his hand could reach it, Logson suddenly shouted, “Seren, look! Over there!”

Seren froze and snapped his head up, following the direction he was pointing. At first, he saw nothing but empty sky. Then, far in the distance, a tiny black dot appeared.

It grew larger. And larger.

Seren’s stomach tightened as he recognised what it was.

For a brief moment, he tried to convince himself it was just a lone migratory avian beast. But that thought died instantly. Migratory beasts never flew alone, and they never flew this high.

The shape soon came into focus. Wide wings. Massive body, and a screech that stung his ears even when it was still so far away.

It was clearly the alpha krael.

The color drained from Seren’s face. He had heard countless reports about the beast, but seeing it with his own eyes was something else entirely. The air itself seemed to tense as it circled high above the mountains.

Beside him, Logson looked like he was about to collapse.

Both of them knew what the appearance of the alpha krael meant.

The new orders had been clear. If the alpha krael appeared, it meant Fort Kaelgrim had fallen.

And if the fort had fallen, then their final order came into effect—release the hibernating beasts.

A last, cruel command from King Thalric. If he could not hold the region, then no one else would either.

Seren watched the krael circle once more before drifting farther away, its shrill cry echoing across the mountains.

Logson suddenly grabbed Seren’s shoulders, his hands shaking. “What… what do we do now, Seren?” he whispered. “Should we run? If we go up there and try to wake the griffin, we’ll be eaten alive.”

Seren didn’t answer right away.

His eyes stayed locked on the sky, half-hoping this was some cruel mistake. Some misunderstanding. Some lies passed down the chain of command.

But deep down, he already knew the truth. This wasn’t a mistake.

For the first time since he had joined the army, Seren felt his heart sink completely from the cold realization that he might not have much life left to live.

Seren gulped and finally turned to his partner, his jaw tight. “You remember what happened to the ones who tried to desert, right?”

Logson swallowed hard. “Yes. They were beheaded in the square. Their families were buried with them.”

Seren nodded slowly. “We can’t run. I don’t even know if King Thalric is alive anymore, but deserting isn’t an option. Even if we flee, Duke Arzan’s army will sweep through this region soon. If they find us, it won’t end any better.”

He looked up the mountain, toward the dark mouth of the cave hidden near the peak. “We have to wake the griffin. There’s no other choice.”

His partner hesitated, fear written all over his face, but in the end he nodded. Together, they broke into a run, boots scraping against stone as they climbed higher.

Every step felt deadlier than the last. Seren’s chest burned, not from the climb, but from the certainty growing in his gut—this path led straight to death, one way or another.

After ten minutes of running, they were finally close. But suddenly, screams echoed through the mountains.

Seren skidded to a stop. His partner did the same, both of them stiffening as shouts and cries carried through the air.

“That’s from the camp,” Seren said quietly.

Logson nodded, unease creeping into his voice. “Yeah… what’s happening?”

“I don’t know,” Seren replied. “I just hope it isn’t a beast.”

They took a step forward, and then Seren’s instincts warned him. A sharp chill ran down the back of his neck.

“Down!” he shouted.

He slammed into his partner, throwing both of them against the rock wall just as pain flared across his shoulder. Something struck the stone where they had been standing a heartbeat earlier.

Logson stared at him in shock. “What—?”

Then his eyes dropped.

Two crossbow bolts were buried deep in the ground, right where their feet had been.

His face went pale.

Seren pushed himself up slowly, ignoring the sting in his body, and turned his gaze toward the mountain path above.

A figure stood on the mountain path ahead of them, his dark skin standing out clearly against the pale stone. It took Seren less than a second to recognize him.

A sand dweller.

Seren immediately pulled his spear from his back and shouted, “Why are you attacking us?”

The man didn’t rush forward. Instead, he spoke calmly. “I have no enmity with you. But I can’t let you wake the griffin.”

Seren tightened his grip. “Those are our orders. What happens here has nothing to do with Ashari men.”

The sand dweller smiled faintly. “Only you think that,” he said. “Just like you, I have my orders too.”

Without warning, small bolts fired from mechanisms at the man’s wrists.

Seren and Logson jumped aside, barely avoiding them, but in that instant, the distance between them vanished.

The man was suddenly right in front of them.

Two short swords slid into his hands from beneath his robe. He struck once.

His partner tried to raise his spear, but it snapped in half in a single clean blow. His eyes widened just before the sand dweller kicked him hard into the rock wall.

His head hit with a dull crack. Blood spilled down his face as he collapsed.

“No!” Seren shouted and charged forward, driving his spear straight at the man.

The sand dweller stepped aside effortlessly. The spear passed through empty air.

In the same motion, the man slashed across the shaft. The wood split down the middle with a sharp snap. Seren tried to pull back, but it was too late.

The man dropped one sword, grabbed the broken shaft, and yanked.

Seren stumbled forward.

A fist slammed into his nose.

Pain exploded through his head. His vision blurred as he crashed to the ground. The world spun, and warmth ran down his face.

“Don’t… don’t kill me,” Seren managed to say.

The man looked down at him and shook his head. “I don’t plan to.” He leaned closer. “I’m just stopping you from making a massive mistake. Lord Arzan controls this region now, and I, Ansel, can’t let you ruin his plans.”

The next punch came before Seren could respond.

Darkness immediately swallowed his vision.

***

Once Thalric was dead, Kai did not waste a single moment.

Before the smoke over Fort Kaelgrim had even fully cleared, orders were already moving across the western region under his name. Viscountess Vaessa’s earlier worries proved well-founded. Thalric had indeed prepared a final spiteful move. If he could not hold the region, he intended to drown it in chaos by unleashing the hibernating beasts hidden along its borders.

Fortunately, Kai had planned for that as well.

Days earlier, he had already sent word to Ansel and the Ashari tribes, asking them to move toward Lancephil and the surrounding mountains. The Ashari needed little convincing. They understood beasts, mana veins, and the danger of disturbing ancient creatures far better than most nobles ever could.

Barely a day after Thalric’s fall, reports reached Kai.

The Ashari tribes had seized the camp near the mountain passes. Anyone who tried to carry out the dead prince’s orders—anyone foolish enough to approach the hibernation caves—had been stopped. A few men had even fired arrows at the alpha krael that still circled the region, but the massive beast, already shaken by the destruction of the mana cannons, fled soon after. It did not return.

The krael was not the only thing shaken.

The explosion at Fort Kaelgrim had been heard for miles. Windows shattered in distant towns, livestock panicked, and even some of Kai’s own soldiers had lost their hearing after standing too close to the blast. Thankfully, that damage was easily treated with potions. Fear, on the other hand, lingered longer.

Kai used that fear carefully.

The first official act of his rule was to spread the truth—quickly, clearly, and without room for distortion. Thalric was dead. Duke Raktor was dead. The western region was no longer under their control.

The message traveled as a proclamation.

Watchers already placed in major cities and towns stepped forward, presenting Kai—Arzan Kellius—not as a conqueror, but as the end of conscription, the end of forced labor, and the end of a war that had bled the region dry. They moved into councils, guild halls, and city leadership, guiding the transition before panic could take root.

One promise, in particular, spread faster than any other.

No more conscripts.

People cared about one thing more than banners or crowns—their lives. And the moment Kai made it clear that there would be no more forced conscriptions, the choice became easy for them. In the eyes of the common folk, he was already a better ruler than Thalric had ever been.

But winning the people was only half the battle. Thalric’s army had not vanished with him.

A large portion of it had died at Fort Kaelgrim, buried under stone and fire, but many soldiers were still out there. Some were camped around Eden City, pressing a siege that had now lost its meaning. Others were scattered across forts and towns that had never truly been secured.

Kai dealt with them simply.

He sent out messengers with a single choice: surrender, or he would come himself.

The effect was immediate.

Most garrisons opened their gates within hours. Others fled before his banners even appeared on the horizon. Around Eden City, the soldiers chose to run. Within two days, the camps were abandoned, tents left standing, fires still warm. The army there did not retreat—they dissolved. Every man became a deserter, more afraid of Kai than of any punishment waiting behind them.

The nobles worried him more.

Many of those who had stood with Thalric came from old military houses, men raised on pride and bloodlines. Kai expected resistance. Instead, on the third day after Thalric’s death, a delegation arrived under a white banner. They knelt and offered surrender. Others sent letters, short and careful, stating that they would no longer take part in the civil war and accepted defeat.

Even House Raktor bent the knee. Their only request was Duke Raktor’s body.

Kai granted it without hesitation. He had already overseen too many funerals. One more pyre did not weigh on him.

By the end of the week, the western region was his.

Cities, towns, villages—all under his rule, not through slaughter, but through inevitability. Yet as Kai looked over the maps laid out before him, he knew the war was not finished.

Only the central region remained.

Eldric and Regina.

They were still waiting.

And unlike the princes before them, Kai did not intend to move carefully this time. They had been thorns in his side for far too long.

Now, he planned to tear them out with his full strength.

***

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