The clash of fists echoed across the training grounds.
Rin stood at the center, his shirt torn, his silver aura subtly flickering like a coiled serpent of smoke. Around him, a dozen soldiers stood in a loose circle,some at 37%, others well over 40% blood purity. They were elite by eastern standards, warriors raised in brutal drills and tempered in the chaos of war.
But every time one of them lunged at Rin, they faltered.
Not from hesitation.
From something else.
The fear in their eyes wasn't respect. It was instinct.
Rin moved like a blur, his blows sharp but not deadly. Still, bones cracked. Men stumbled. Several fell gasping before they could land a proper hit. One soldier was knocked sprawling with a clean elbow to the chest. He rolled, coughed,and suddenly, blood poured from his mouth.
"What the—" another soldier ran to help. "Are you okay?!"
The man didn't respond. His eyes were wide, as if something unseen had struck deeper than the flesh.
"What's going on?" the helper asked under his breath.
"I… I don't know," the other stammered. "I just felt like… something just shattered inside me."
Rin didn't notice. He was focused, breathing steadily. But under the surface, something within him churned.
A short while later, a maid in silver-gray livery approached him, bowing with her hands respectfully clasped.
"Your Highness," she said. "Lord Kaelion wishes to see you. Preparations are complete."
Rin gave a short nod and grabbed his coat, walking past the dazed soldiers without another glance.
The skies above the eastern military zone roared with engines.
Flying ships hovered in organized formations, their blackened hulls gleaming under the pale sun. Massive warcruisers loomed in the background like titanic birds ready to strike, while agile fighter crafts zipped between towers and platforms.
The scent of oil and metal hung thick in the air.
Rin stepped off his car onto a vast landing pad. Crowds of uniformed soldiers stood at attention, gathered in ranks under the shadow of an enormous transport ship shaped like a winged spear.
At the center stood two figures.
Kaelion Solas,his white cape billowing in the wind.
Beside him, the cold-eyed, towering man with long obsidian horns curling back like a crown of ancient power.
Master Arkan Drelos.
Rin approached and bowed respectfully to both.
Kaelion greeted him with a nod, then turned to address the crowd. His voice, amplified by a subtle aetheric speaker, rang across the entire platform.
"Warriors of the East," he began, eyes burning with charisma. "Today, we take another step toward reclaiming what is rightfully ours."
He paced slowly, his words sharp and full of purpose. "The North was corrupted. Their royalty was wicked. Their armies, tainted. But our uncle, the great Valen Solas, tore down that corruption with fire and power. He freed the land,not for conquest, but for balance."
Gasps and cheers rippled through the crowd.
Kaelion stepped forward once more, his long coat fluttering in the wind. His golden eyes swept across the rows of soldiers, each clad in black and crimson, their faces set with purpose.
He raised his hand, silencing the hum of whispers.
"Look at what stands behind me," he said, gesturing to the massive fleet of warships. "This is the power of the East. This is the will of Solas blood, carved into steel and flame."
The soldiers stood straighter.
"The North has fallen,not because they were weak, but because we were strong. Valen Solas reminded the world that the East is not to be trifled with. That the white dragon blood still rules these skies."
He began pacing slowly along the edge of the platform.
"But make no mistake. The job is not done. That land,charred and broken ,now belongs to us. Our Emperor has decreed it. The survivors? They cling to shattered cities like insects after a storm. What they need… is order."
His voice sharpened.
"You are not just warriors. You are the founders of a new East. You will not only conquer,you will build. Brick by brick, soul by soul. Our children will look north and say, 'There lies the land of victory.'"
Kaelion gestured toward Arkan. "And now, as our Emperor deliberates, we do not sit idle. We send our strongest. Our finest. Master Arkan Drelos ,Soul Stage warrior, left wing of the late King Solas,will lead this mission."
A cheer rose. Then Kaelion raised his hand again, and silence fell once more.
He turned and nodded to the horned man beside him.
"Master Arkan."
The old warrior stepped forward. Where Kaelion inspired, Arkan instilled fear.
His gaze scanned the soldiers,unflinching, unblinking.
"You have two tasks."
His voice was low, but carried like thunder.
"One: capture or kill any surviving resistance. Farmers. Soldiers. Refugees. It does not matter. If they resist, end them."
A pause.
"Two: establish infrastructure. Fortify the land. The North is no longer a foreign place. It is ours. You will raise banners of Solas over every ruin, every road, every home."
He stepped down from the platform.
"If I see mercy where there should be steel… I will burn it myself."