Emperor's Chamber – Imperial Capital
The fireplace crackled softly. Snow fell beyond the stained-glass windows, but inside, warmth filled the room.
Lucas and Isla sat across from each other, wine in hand.
For a rare moment, there was no war, no strategy—just silence. The quiet reminded them of a time when they were younger. A time before politics, before bloodshed.
They didn't always agree. They saw the world through different eyes.
But they were still brothers.
And when the time came, they always had each other's backs.
Lucas swirled his wine, then asked calmly, "What's next?"
Isla raised his glass to the light, the crimson liquid catching the fire's glow.
"Beasts," he said flatly.
Then, after a sip—
"It's time we butcher the Beastkin."
Lucas didn't reply. He stared at the fire, contemplative.
Isla's gaze shifted toward the window, his voice lower now. "Dracia's Veil… I wonder how strong it truly is."
Lucas finally spoke. "The Ancient Veil… It protected Dracia even during the war against the demon a thousand years ago. Stronger than any wall, any shield, forged from origin magic itself."
"Our only chance is—" Lucas started.
"—Spyros Eclipse," Isla finished for him.
The two brothers locked eyes and nodded.
A rare cosmic event, the Spyros Eclipse only occurred once every fifty years.
During it, the skies turned crimson—and for one day, the world's fire users surged with unimaginable power.
For Lucas, it was more than power. It was destiny.
"It's about a year and a half from now," Lucas said, his voice solemn.
Isla leaned back, his tone laced with finality.
"Fate stands with us."
That day, when the sun is swallowed and the fire within Lucas roars to its peak…
That day, the world will bend.
Even kings.
Dozens of reports piled up on Arman's desk, each one bloodier than the last. Banditry had turned to butchery. At first it was travelers—adventurers on the eastern plains. Then came farmers, merchants, and entire villages. One by one, they vanished.
And now, even knights have gone missing.
Arman, ruler of Sancara, read in grim silence. Deep down, he knew this wasn't random aggression—it was war.
After the Empire's conquest of Mount Nytheris, it was only a matter of time before the Beast Kingdom would react. The frontier stirred with unrest, and now it was boiling over.
Unexpectedly, an old name returned to the fold.
Herald, once a legend of the battlefield, long thought retired, arrived at the capital gates bearing sword and purpose. He would fight in this war.
War Council – Crimson Strategy
Within the grand War Chamber, the mood was icy and fierce. The map before them was scattered with crimson markers—enemy fortresses, routes, terrain. At its center sat Isla, the Emperor himself, as supreme commander of this campaign.
He had unfinished business with the Beast King.
"We fight beasts like beasts," Isla declared, voice sharp as the steel at his hip.
He outlined the strategy with ruthless clarity:
Infiltrate and seize the crude border fortress by night. No survivors.
Burn their villages. Let the smoke carry the message.
Retreat. This was not the invasion—only a warning.
He looked around at the commanders—Lucas, Herald—and they understood.
This war would be merciless.
As the room cleared, Herald lingered. His voice was low, but heavy with old scars.
"Your Majesty. A request."
Isla turned. "Speak."
"Targan. Let me take him. Personally."
The Emperor placed a hand on his loyal commander's shoulder.
"Make it cruel," he said.
And as he walked away, he added:
"I'll take the Beast King."
The Challenge
30,000 Imperial soldiers thundered eastward toward Sancara. Arman stood at the gates to greet Isla, Lucas, and the other commanders. War had already begun without them.
Fifty-seven civilians were missing. Entire families. Even armed knights.
The news ignited the war table.
Then came the envoy.
A lone Beastman, cloaked and unarmed, strolled into the war camp with the arrogance of a predator.
"The Beast King," he said, "issues a challenge. A duel—with your Emperor. Hostages for victory. Refusal means their deaths."
The terms were plain: Isla must travel into the Beast Kingdom, allowing only five companions. The duel would be held deep within enemy land.
A trap. Transparent and crude.
Isla said nothing for a long time, then chuckled.
"Duel?Why not."
He stood slowly, cold fire in his eyes.
"Tell your king," he said, "I accept."
The envoy released a carrier pigeon, then vanished into the wild.
The New Plan
The Beast King had changed the game. But in doing so, he exposed his hand.
The Empire reassembles their strategy. Around the war map, Arman briefed the commanders.
New orders were drawn.
Isla, Lucas, Herald, Arman, and Captain Mark would be the five entering the duel site.
The Hollows, elite shadow operatives, would follow silently through the dark. Their goal: assassinate border guards and open the path.
During the duel, Mark would break off to free the hostages.
Herald would hunt Targan.
Lucas would return immediately to lead the army in full invasion if the duel turned bloody.
The Empire would not be caught off guard.
The Beast Kingdom made only one mistake.
They underestimated the Empire's wrath.