Date: February 10, 542 years since the Fall of Zanra the Dishonored.
Winter in the North had finally set in, turning the world into an endless canvas of dazzling white snow and coal-black basalt cliffs. Six months had passed since that memorable battle in the "Dead Loop" gorge. Six months filled with endless marches through blizzards, clearing nests of defiled creatures, and grueling internal work that forged the character of the Seventh Detachment's knights more effectively than any smith's hammer.
Kaedan stood on a watchtower, inhaling air so cold it seemed solid. The young man had changed. His figure had become more massive, and his movements had acquired that confident unhurriedness that distinguishes veterans from recruits. He was still at the Warrior rank, but his inner essence had reached such density that the surrounding space seemed to bend slightly under his weight.
His Unbreakable Armor had almost achieved its final form. Now, besides the powerful pauldrons, cuirass, and vambraces, Kaedan's legs were protected by heavy greaves, formed from the same grey ghostly stone. They perfectly followed the contours of his shins, giving him the appearance of a living statue. Only one last element remained—a helmet, which was meant to close the circuit of his defense and mark his transition to the Pillar stage. Kaedan felt this moment was near; his Vessel was overflowing with power, craving qualitative transformation.
"Kaedan! The whole detachment is assembling at the western gate!" Liana's voice, amplified by her inner radiance, reached him from below.
The girl stood in the courtyard, wrapped in a fur cloak. Over these months, she and Elwin had become not just friends for Kaedan, but a reliable support. They had learned to understand each other without words, coordinating their powers in the most hopeless skirmishes.
The young man easily jumped from a height of ten meters, and his stone greaves slammed into the frozen ground with a dull thud, leaving no sign of impact on his body.
At the gate, the other knights were already formed up. Off to the side, as always, Iskon stood frozen. His Scaling Spirit had become even more refined over the six months, and he himself—even more closed off. Iskon didn't just train; he lived for power, and his cold gaze now inspired caution even among the fortress's experienced warriors.
Heavy footsteps made the knights instantly straighten their formation. Grak the Axe emerged from the shadow of the gate tower. He was in full battle armor, and his legendary axe hung behind his back, its blade glinting particularly predatorily today. The fact that the Herald-rank commander had personally donned steel meant only one thing: the upcoming mission was beyond ordinary patrol duty.
"Listen carefully," Grak's voice rumbled, cutting through the wind's whistle. "Two days ago, our scouts on the 'Plateau of Fallen Stars' discovered an entrance to ruins thought lost even before the great orc exodus. It's the 'Temple of True Equilibrium.' A legacy from the era of Zanrathe Dishonored."
The knights exchanged involuntary glances. Zantra's name was always accompanied by legends of unimaginable power and artifacts capable of subduing the very essence of the world.
"Rumors say that one of Zantra's Relics is hidden inside—an artifact capable of multiplying the density of its bearer's inner power manifold," Grak continued, his gaze becoming heavy. "But we're not the only ones who found the ruins. Intelligence reports that mercenary groups, detachments from the Rakesh Dynasty, and possibly even shadows from Alvost are already converging on the Plateau. They all want the Relic."
The commander slammed his fist into his palm. "This is a mission of strategic importance. We cannot allow an ancient weapon to fall into foreign hands. I will personally lead the Seventh Detachment on this mission. Our goal is to enter the Temple and retrieve anything of value to the Order. The time for diplomacy is over. In these ruins, only steel will be law."
Kaedan felt excitement flare within him. A quest for the legacy of Zanrathe Dishonored himself, under the command of a Herald... This was precisely the trial that could push him towards the Pillar rank.
"Iskon, you'll lead reconnaissance on the approaches. Kaedan—you hold the center of the formation," Grak swept his gaze over them. "We leave immediately. Horses are ready."
The knights broke into motion, saddling their horses. Kaedan, tightening his girth, paused for a moment, gazing at the distant snow-capped peaks. He remembered the "Old Pine" orphanage, their first map on a piece of hide, and the oath to build a Better World. Back then, Zantra's Relics were a fairy tale. Now they were a reality for which they would have to kill.
"If this artifact exists, it must serve protection," Kaedan thought, mounting his horse. "I will not let it become a tool of new chaos."
The detachment rode out of the fortress gates, disappearing into the snowy veil. Ahead lay the Plateau of Fallen Stars and the ancient Temple, its walls waiting for new victims.