Year 217 Post-Collapse

  Noon of the Bloody Day

  The battlefield was a sea of corpses and ashes. Flames still crackled over the wreckage of Revaris' siege engines, and the air was heavy with the scent of blood, burnt flesh, and searing metal.

  Kael, panting, leaned on his sword planted in the ground. His right arm was covered in cuts, his muscles burned with exhaustion, but his gaze remained fixed on the enemy.

  Before him, Revaris had frozen. The sudden appearance of a new army had halted the battle.

  On the hills bordering Dornhal, dark-armored figures descended slowly, their banners snapping in the wind. They bore an unknown emblem: a black serpent coiled around a silver sword.

  Kael felt a chill run down his spine. That banner… It belonged to a force he did not recognize.

  "Who… are they?" murmured Lysara, tightening her grip on her bow, her eyes piercing the horizon.

  A murmur spread through the enemy ranks.

  Revaris’ soldiers exchanged uneasy glances. Some even began retreating discreetly. An oppressive tension settled over the battlefield, heavier than the blood and death that had already tainted it.

  A rider advanced at the head of the unknown contingent. His armor was deep black, trimmed with silver, and his helmet, a faceless mask, concealed his identity.

  He halted his mount a few meters from Kael, then dismounted with a fluid motion.

  A cold voice rose from beneath the mask.

  "Kael of Dornhal… I have come for you."

  A deathly silence fell over the battlefield.

  Kael felt a cold sweat trickle down his back. That voice… he knew it.

  His heart pounded violently in his chest. He scrutinized the man before him as the latter slowly removed his helmet.

  A harsh face, sculpted by years of war, appeared under the harsh sunlight. Deep scars marred his skin, but it was his eyes that struck Kael.

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  Steel-gray eyes, filled with cold determination.

  Kael felt the weight of the past crash onto his shoulders.

  "You…" he whispered, almost in disbelief.

  The man offered a chilling smile.

  "A long time ago, you left me for dead. It's time to settle that debt."

  Darius, who had remained silent until now, clenched his fists.

  "Who is this man?"

  Kael took a deep breath. His throat was dry.

  "Dragan the Exile… A former captain of the fallen kingdom of Feranos."

  A shiver ran down Lysara's spine.

  "Feranos? But that kingdom was annihilated ten years ago!"

  Dragan slowly nodded.

  "Yes… Annihilated by those who had sworn to protect it." His gaze darkened as he locked eyes with Kael. "Some of us survived. We wandered, hidden, building our strength. Today, we are ready to reclaim what is ours."

  His piercing stare bore into Kael.

  "But before that, I have unfinished business with you."

  Kael knew what was coming next.

  Without a word, Dragan drew a slender blade, black as the night, its edge glinting with a spectral light.

  Kael barely reacted in time, raising his sword just as the first strike fell upon him.

  The impact was brutal.

  The clash echoed across the battlefield.

  Kael felt his arms tremble under the force of the blow. Dragan immediately followed up, his supernatural speed forcing Kael to retreat.

  Every strike was precise, calculated. Dragan attacked like a predator, testing Kael’s defenses, forcing him to waste energy.

  Kael attempted a counterattack. He pivoted, aiming for the flank. Dragan dodged with a fluid motion and retaliated with a vicious backslash.

  The blade grazed Kael’s armor, leaving a thin cut on his arm.

  Lysara took a step forward, an arrow nocked.

  "Stay out of this!" Kael growled.

  Dragan smirked.

  "You are stronger than before… but it won’t be enough."

  Kael gritted his teeth. He could not afford to lose now.

  His men's eyes were fixed on him. They were waiting to see if he would falter.

  As Kael searched for an opening, a horn echoed in the distance.

  The sound was deep, ominous.

  A third army was approaching.

  Kael felt his chest tighten.

  On the opposite hill, a familiar banner fluttered in the wind.

  The red and gold of the kingdom of Solheim.

  Kael felt his blood run cold.

  If Solheim was here… then the situation had just become even more complicated.

  Revaris’ army wavered. Some soldiers began to flee.

  Dragan, however, did not move.

  He slowly smiled.

  "It seems fate has granted you a reprieve… but do not think this fight is over."

  Then, as suddenly as he had appeared, he stepped back, rejoining his men without another word.

  Kael remained frozen, his heart pounding furiously.

  The war had only just begun.