High above the battlefield, a bird circled.
Its feathers were ash-black.Its eyes burned red.
The creature did not cry, did not flap unnecessarily. It simply watched—its vision perfectly synchronized with another pair of eyes far away.
Daniel sat upon his throne in Fort Knightfall, at the highest point of the tower overlooking City Red Flags. The windows were open. Wind passed through the chamber, carrying the distant scent of smoke and mana-burned earth.
He did not move.
Through the bird's sight, the battlefield unfolded in perfect clarity.
Zenn.Aarenn.Eeseren.
Still standing.
At the outskirts of Fort Knightfall, more than a hundred inner-circle apprentices—boys and girls between fifteen and twenty—stood in rigid silence.
They were positioned at a carefully calculated distance.
Close enough to see.Far enough to survive.
Five figures stood ahead of them.
The Elder Circle.
The First Knights—chosen personally by Daniel during his journey to the capital two years prior. Veterans. Survivors. Executioners of impossible orders.
Around their necks glimmered faintly the aura suppression artifacts—devices forged by Lilith, the System, designed to drown their mana signatures into the environment itself. To demons, they did not exist.
Among them stood Maria, the Whip of Death.
Her eyes never left the battlefield.
"Look," she shouted, voice cracking like a lash. "Look with your hearts."
The apprentices obeyed.
"We of the Red Flags never retreat," Maria continued. "No matter how strong the enemy is. We fight until the end—because that is the only way humanity survives."
Her voice hardened.
"You want respect? You want attention from our Great War General Daniel?"
She pointed toward the distant carnage.
"Change your mindset. Become warriors."
A murmur rippled through the youths.
"Do you know why our battalion has so few noble children?" Maria demanded. "Not because we lack coin. We reject them."
Silence.
"Arrogance disqualifies. Fear disqualifies. Only discipline survives."
Her gaze burned.
"Some of you lost to nobles in the knight examinations. Yet you stand here. Because even when beaten, you did not beg. You did not flee. You did not fear."
She raised her fist.
"That is why you were accepted."
The apprentices straightened.
"The Domain awaits those who prove loyalty," Maria said quietly. "It will make you stronger than ordinary knights. Far stronger."
A cruel smile.
"We are superior knights. And that is our pride."
On the battlefield—
Aarenn moved again.
The black-crimson spear, broken nearly in half, still answered his will. He hurled it through the air again and again, stabbing through space itself before snapping back into his grasp. Each throw was faster than the last, forced into a relentless rhythm that even Vrizz struggled to escape.
Eeseren drew her bow.
The Blaze Bang responded.
Something inside it shifted.
New runes ignited along its limbs. Energy compressed differently—denser, colder.
She released.
The arrow did not merely strike.
It suppressed.
Vrizz's movements slowed—forty percent stripped away instantly. His temporal dominance faltered, just enough.
Zenn sensed it.
The dragon reared back.
A roar erupted from his chest—raw, ancient, terrifying enough that even time hesitated.
Then—
From the base of Zenn's tail, a dark purple flame ignited.
It traveled spine by spine, crawling upward like a living judgment. Scales glowed. The air screamed. Mana evaporated.
Eeseren and Aarenn felt it.
They leapt backward instantly, thirty feet away, continuing long-range suppression without hesitation.
Aarenn hurled the broken spear repeatedly.
Eeseren fired in perfect cadence.
Vrizz was pinned—unable to move, forced to regenerate again and again, hatred twisting his face.
Then Zenn exhaled.
The all-devouring flame struck Vrizz head-on.
It did not explode.
It latched.
The flame clung to flesh, to armor, to mana itself—burning inward relentlessly. Regeneration activated.
Failed.
Again.
Failed.
Vrizz screamed, thrashing wildly as the flame consumed him layer by layer.
"How—how can wretched humans—!" he shrieked. "I cannot live with this shame! End it!"
Eeseren stepped forward, body battered, bloodied.
She smiled.
The Blaze Bang flared.
"Then rest."
She loosed a Blaze Blast.
Vrizz's body shattered into fragments, erased completely.
Silence.
Then—
Zenn collapsed.
The great dragon struck the earth with a thunderous crash, dust exploding outward. Eeseren and Aarenn rushed forward—
Only to stop.
Zenn was shrinking.
Moments later, a small, dog-sized dragon lay curled where the titan had fallen—fast asleep, breathing softly.
Eeseren laughed weakly.
They lifted him gently.
From the trees nearby, soldiers emerged.
Eyes wide.Breaths held.
Aarenn turned.
"Collect the corpses," he ordered calmly.
They obeyed instantly.
Eight massive piles rose—each nearly forty feet high. A mountain of death.
Aarenn adjusted his crown.
He turned to Eeseren.
"I want you to be my queen."
Her eyes widened.
She jabbed him lightly in the ribs, blushing.
They laughed.
"I'll take that as yes," Aarenn said. "After all—"
He pulled her close.
"The Prince of Death deserves the Queen of Death."
He kissed her.
Eeseren froze—then cried, tears of joy streaking down her face.
From afar, Maria coughed.
"Ah—that was not part of the lesson," she muttered.
The apprentices, too distant to see the tears, watched only the silhouettes.
In their eyes—
The legends grew taller.