Kolpa arrived in Menssai without delay, the wind parting at his command as he descended upon the palace.
Inside the grand hall, Lord Jace sat upon his throne, eyes closed, fingers resting lightly against the armrest as though listening to something beyond mortal sound. Beside him stood Demiurge — silent, composed, ever watchful.
The massive doors creaked open.
Kolpa entered.
He approached, then bowed.
Jace's eyes opened slowly.
A flicker of surprise crossed them at Kolpa's swift return — though his expression remained otherwise unreadable.
"Kolpa," Jace said smoothly, straightening slightly on his throne. "You return sooner than expected. Were you unable to persuade the prince of Righteous?"
Kolpa smiled faintly.
"On the contrary, Lord Jace. With the groundwork I have laid, it is only a matter of time before that wretched prince kneels willingly at your side."
"Then why are you here?" Demiurge asked, voice firm and direct. "Get to the point."
Kolpa inclined his head slightly before continuing.
"The knights of Righteous are mobilizing. Jericho and his companions are preparing for a journey to the Mist Mountains. Their departure is imminent. However…" his jaw tightened, "the prince proved too incompetent to uncover their true objective."
Jace turned his gaze toward Demiurge.
"Is there anything in the Mist that could threaten our plans?"
Demiurge did not hesitate.
"No, young master. The Mist Mountains consist largely of barren, uninhabitable land across all races." He paused briefly. "Aside from one presence."
"The Dragon of Last Days," Kolpa muttered.
Demiurge nodded.
"Teleftaia Mera. The Calamity Dragon."
The name lingered heavily in the air.
"It resides deep within the mountains. It is as powerful as we are — perhaps more so in raw destruction. No being controls that creature. It does not negotiate. It does not ally. It annihilates."
Jace leaned back slightly.
"Could they be attempting to win it over?"
Demiurge gave the faintest shake of his head.
"Impossible. The dragon is profoundly territorial. It kills first and never questions later. No human force could bend it to their will."
He paused.
"Still… we would be foolish to dismiss the possibility entirely. If they seek something there, it may cause a shift in the balance of this world — and in our designs. We should observe them closely."
Jace considered this in silence.
"Then it is fortunate," he said at last, "that I sent Drako to watch them."
Kolpa's eyes narrowed slightly.
"I will inform him of this development. He will uncover their purpose."
Jace's attention returned to Kolpa.
"In the meantime… how progresses your recruitment of the prince?"
Kolpa's smile darkened.
"Humans are simple creatures, my lord. Greed. Pride. Impatience. Tug the right strings and they entangle themselves. The prince is already halfway into our grasp."
His eyes gleamed.
"When next you see me, Lord Jace… I will not be alone."
A satisfied smile spread across Jace's face.
"Excellent work, Kolpa."
He rose from his throne.
"Come. Join me for dinner. I summoned some of the most beautiful women in the kingdom to entertain Demiurge and myself." His tone turned teasing. "He declined, of course. Claimed he was 'occupied.' I was dreadfully bored."
Kolpa chuckled.
"It is always exhausting being alone with Demiurge. He carries himself like a funeral procession."
As Jace walked past him, Kolpa draped an arm casually around his shoulders.
"I am honored to relieve your suffering, my lord."
They began making their way toward the exit.
Behind them—
"YOU ARE BOTH AWARE I AM STILL STANDING HERE," Demiurge's voice thundered across the hall. "AND I AM CAPABLE OF FUN. I AM SIMPLY TOO BUSY TO INDULGE."
Their laughter echoed down the corridor.
"Of course you are, Demiurge," Kolpa called back mockingly.
"Absolutely," Jace added between laughs.
The sound faded.
Demiurge remained still for a moment.
"…Idiots," he muttered quietly before turning and exiting the throne room himself.
⸻
A day later, Jericho, Erica, Alice, and William arrived at a small town near the border of one of the lesser nations.
It was a settlement built on survival — farmers tilling stubborn soil, hunters venturing into one of the largest and most dangerous forests in the region. Life here should have been rugged, but steady.
Instead—
It felt hollow.
They stopped as soon as they entered.
The townsfolk moved like ghosts. Eyes sunken. Shoulders tense. Conversations died the moment the group approached. Doors shut quietly. Curtains shifted.
It was the kind of silence that did not belong in a living town.
Jericho frowned.
They had originally planned only a brief stop — food, rest, fresh supplies before continuing toward the Mist Mountains. But this…
This was wrong.
After hiding Clover's vehicle just outside town to avoid alarming anyone, they entered on foot. The deeper they walked, the heavier the atmosphere became.
No one answered their greetings.
No one met their eyes.
Eventually, they spotted a modest building with a polished wooden sign:
Bell-Dome Trading Guild.
"If anyone knows what's happening," William muttered, "it'll be a guild."
They stepped inside.
The reception hall was nearly empty. Dust lingered in corners. The air felt stagnant.
Three receptionists sat behind the counter, heads resting against their desks as though exhausted beyond measure.
The door creaked shut behind the group.
The women jolted upright.
"W–Welcome to the Bell-Dome Trading Guild," one of them said quickly, forcing professionalism into her voice. "How may we assist you?"
Jericho stepped forward politely.
"Good afternoon. We're travelers, just passing through for the night. But… we couldn't help noticing the condition of the town. Everyone seems frightened. No one will speak to us. We were hoping you might explain what's going on."
The receptionists froze.
They exchanged glances — not of confusion.
Of fear.
One of them opened her mouth to speak—
The door behind them clicked.
Heavy footsteps followed.
A tall man in his mid-forties emerged from a back office. His posture was straight, his expression sharp, his presence oppressive.
The receptionists immediately lowered their heads.
He approached slowly.
"What seems to be the issue?" he asked calmly. Then his eyes settled on the four newcomers. "Ah. Clients?"
His gaze was calculating.
"I am Tiui Hmmas. Owner and manager of this establishment. Welcome to the Bell-Dome Trading Guild."
His eyes shifted toward one of the receptionists.
"Amanda. Why have they not been properly attended to?"
His tone was soft.
But it carried weight.
Jericho stepped in before she could answer.
"Sir, please — it isn't their fault. We aren't here for business. We were only asking about the town's condition."
Tiui's eyes slowly dragged over Jericho, then Erica, then William, then Alice.
Assessment.
Dismissal.
"I see," he said at last. "In that case, I'm afraid you are in the wrong establishment. We provide trade services. Not gossip."
A faint smile curved his lips.
"If you are not clients, you should leave."
William stepped forward slightly.
"We traveled far. We only want to understand what danger may be present. That benefits everyone, doesn't it?"
The smile vanished.
Tiui's irritation was no longer hidden.
"My business is already suffering," he said coldly. "The last thing I require is foreign children prying into matters that do not concern them."
The air tightened.
"I suggest," he continued, voice sharpening, "that you leave. Now."
The receptionists stared at the floor.
William's jaw clenched.
Alice lightly tugged his sleeve.
Jericho held Tiui's gaze evenly. He could feel it — beneath the man's irritation was something else.
Anxiety.
Fear.
Secrets.
Jericho opened his mouth to press further—
A hand touched his shoulder.
Erica.
He glanced at her.
She shook her head once.
Not here.
Jericho exhaled.
"Understood," he said calmly. "Apologies for the disturbance. We hope business improves soon."
He turned toward the receptionists and gave them a gentle smile.
"Thank you for your time."
They began to leave.
Erica lingered a moment longer, locking eyes with Tiui.
Then she gave him a polite bow.
And followed the others outside.
The door shut.
Inside, Tiui's composure cracked.
"Insufferable brats," he muttered darkly.
He turned sharply toward the receptionists.
"Just because business is slow does not mean you sit idle. Move. All of you."
They scrambled instantly, scattering through the building.
⸻
Outside, the tension lingered.
"Why did we leave?" Jericho asked quietly. "He knows something. And it isn't pleasant."
William cracked his knuckles.
"I was seconds away from rearranging his face."
"William," Jericho sighed nervously, "please visit your happy place. You're making the town even gloomier."
Alice gave a small laugh despite herself.
Erica remained serious.
"We did need information," she admitted. "But not from a man like that. Whatever he's hiding… it's rotting him from the inside."
She looked ahead toward the center of town.
"If something is wrong here, it won't be solved at guild level."
They stared at her.
Understanding dawned.
"The Lord of the City," Jericho said.
William blinked.
"Oh."
Alice nodded slowly.
Erica gave a firm nod.
"If answers exist… they're at the top."
And without another word, they began walking.
⸻
Erica led the group to the estate of the town's lord.
At the iron gates, armed guards immediately crossed their halberds to block entry.
"Halt. State your business."
Erica said nothing.
Instead, she reached into her cloak and revealed a silver necklace — the royal insignia of the Kingdom of Righteous engraved upon it.
The guards froze.
Their expressions shifted from suspicion to alarm.
They stepped back instantly.
"Open the gates!"
The iron doors creaked apart, and several guards escorted them inside with visible tension. They were led to a waiting chamber while a messenger rushed ahead to inform the lord of the unexpected royal presence.
Moments later, the doors opened again.
A young man — no older than thirty— entered hurriedly. Light complexion. Short dark hair. Fine noble attire slightly disheveled, as though he had dressed in haste.
He bowed deeply.
"Your Majesty… what an honor. Welcome to the town of Dasos. I am Martin Ty Dasos, the chosen lord of this territory. To what do I owe this unexpected blessing?"
His smile was wide.
But his eyes betrayed confusion — and unease.
Erica did not return the smile.
"Lord Martin, forgive the sudden visit. We are passing through on official business and intended only to rest for the night. However…"
Her gaze sharpened.
"The town is in visible decline. The people are afraid. Businesses are failing. The streets are lifeless."
Her voice deepened — not just a commander now.
A princess.
A future queen.
"This town stands within the Alliance. If there is a threat capable of destabilizing it, that threat concerns every allied nation."
She stepped closer.
"Lord Martin… I require the truth."
The room fell silent.
Martin's face drained of color.
His breathing grew uneven.
He sat slowly, as though his legs no longer trusted him.
"Your Highness… please forgive me," he whispered. "I did not know how to explain this without sounding mad."
He swallowed hard.
"I have not even informed the territorial king. It is… unbelievable."
Jericho and the others stiffened.
Martin took several shaky breaths before continuing.
"You are aware this town borders the Darkburn Canopy — the largest forest on the Human Continent."
Erica nodded.
"Three months ago," Martin continued, "something changed."
His hands trembled.
"The animals… they are not animals anymore."
He closed his eyes briefly.
"They are monsters."
Silence.
"I dismissed the first report. A hunter came to me raving about glowing eyes and beasts that moved like shadows. I assumed he was drunk."
His voice cracked.
"That mistake cost lives."
His breathing grew heavier.
"By the time I understood the truth, dozens had already died. Hunters. Farmers. Entire families."
He lowered his head.
"This failure is mine. I endangered my people through arrogance. I beg your forgiveness."
Erica's expression softened slightly — but only slightly.
"What changed in them?" she asked. "Describe it."
Martin shook his head.
"They are now faster. Stronger. Smarter. They hunt in coordinated patterns. Even prey animals attack when cornered. Some… some breathe fire. Others command the wind."
Jericho stepped forward.
"Erica."
She turned.
"I believe I understand."
He exhaled slowly.
"The global awakening of soul energy… it didn't just affect humans."
The realization settled over them.
"Predators. Prey. Every living organism would have evolved alongside it. Enhanced strength. Heightened intellect. Elemental affinity."
His voice grew grave.
"This town isn't facing wildlife anymore. It's facing an ecosystem reborn."
William muttered under his breath.
"For farmers and hunters… that's extinction."
Jericho nodded.
"If we do nothing, they'll die. Either to starvation… or to the forest."
The room went quiet.
The problem was no longer local.
It was systemic.
⸻
Elsewhere.
Within the walls of Righteous.
Prince Tazz stood in a dimly lit chamber reviewing maps of the castle grounds. The sudden tightening of security had complicated matters.
The castle was on high alert.
Patrols doubled.
Rotations randomized.
Entry points reinforced.
He clenched his jaw.
"So we adapt," he muttered.
One of his aides spoke carefully.
"My prince… with the castle this vigilant, perhaps it would be wise to wait for Sir Kolpa's return. His experience—"
"I do not care," Tazz snapped.
He closed his eyes, breathing deeply.
Calming himself.
Slowly.
Then he smiled.
"I have it."
Both aides leaned in.
"We deploy scouts to monitor knight patrol patterns. We study their routines. Identify the weakest point in their rotation."
His eyes gleamed.
"We strike a single defensive node. Briefly. Then retreat."
The aides exchanged glances.
"We repeat this daily. Chip away at their structure. Force them to stretch resources thinner and thinner."
His smile widened — unstable.
"We erode their confidence. Their stamina. Their unity."
He looked toward the castle window.
"My sister is gone. That corpse-ex-prince is gone."
His voice dropped.
"The only threats that mattered… are absent."
He turned back.
"The remaining knights are nothing."
One aide bowed deeply, almost trembling with devotion.
"Brilliant, my prince… no… my king."
The other followed.
"I shall prepare the scouts immediately."
They exited swiftly.
Tazz remained alone.
His expression twitched slightly.
"Just wait, Righteous," he whispered.
"Your true ruler rises."
His eyes shone — not with clarity.
But obsession.
⸻
At the edge of the Forest of Codar, high upon the branches of an ancient tree—
Kolpa watched.
A wicked smile stretched across his face.
"Well… I arrived at the perfect time."
He observed Tazz's movements below.
"For a simple-minded prince, that strategy is not entirely foolish."
His smile deepened.
"But outcomes… are never determined by effort."
His gaze darkened.
"Only by the will of Lord Jace."
He leaned back against the tree trunk.
"All others are merely instruments."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"And you, dear prince… are no exception."
A soft, amused chuckle escaped him.
"Let the show begin."