Renes woke up on a warm bed in a small wooden room in Hesmir. He raised his hand to block the sunlight shining into his eyes, trying to move his aching body slowly to lean against the headboard. Exitus sat silently nearby, witnessing his teacher waking up. He said nothing, only nodded slightly, took the teapot and poured a cup of hot tea, then handed it to Renes.

  “How long have I been unconscious?” Renes asked, then tilted his head back and drank all the tea in the cup.

  Exitus continued to pour him another cup and slowly said.

  “More than two days. Many things have happened while you were unconscious, one of them is the death of Rumi.”

  Renes sighed. So Rumi was still killed. He had thought that he could save the old man’s life. But in reality, Mulock was too strong. Renes knew that cunning pirate still hadn’t shown his full strength yet.

  “Perhaps I should return to Seabloom. I acted on my own, I need new orders from Xevia,” Renes said as he once again drank the tea dry. “What do you plan to do next, Exitus? Join the selection of the Great Will, perhaps? With your ability, you will surely achieve a high rank. Seabloom may only be a mid–tier academy, but it still has two slots to participate.”

  “No, I will join the army,” Exitus quickly replied, his voice filled with certainty, without the slightest hesitation. Renes fell silent. He knew why Exitus chose that path. In fact, he understood it better than anyone.

  “It’s good too. You’ve grown far stronger than the others. You’re truly strange, boy. I’ve never seen anyone improve so fast. I mean, you act as if you’ve fought through countless battles.”

  “Of course! I fight every night in my dreams,” Exitus thought to himself.

  “By the way, Teacher ...”

  “What is it? Gulp, gulp, gulp…”

  “You’ve already drunk all the tea."

  In a secret section of the Mornet seaport, Jacor walked slowly along a fetid path paved with slick tiles thick with green algae. He glanced around, wary of being watched, then lightly touched an octopus emblem etched on the stone wall nearby.

  “Thud.”

  Something activated, a hidden passage opened in the gloom. Jacor stepped down the stone steps behind the door as it closed, as if it had never been there.

  Mulock had taken the form of a red parrot; perhaps he preferred this shape. The parrot puffed on a cigarette clamped in its beak, swinging in a small hammock strung inside a nearby birdcage. Suddenly its eyes narrowed, it sensed someone approaching.

  “For a legendary pirate, you seem to have an odd taste, Mulock,” Jacor said with mockery.

  “You are truly ordinary, Jacor. This is the only form that when I call fools "F*ck your mother,’ and they all laugh happily,” Mulock replied.

  “Enough talk. Here are a thousand gold crowns as promised.” Jacor casually tossed out a large pouch filled with gleaming coins.

  Mulock frowned in surprise. He recalled that he had not killed Rumi. Rumi was dead? Who had killed him? Mulock, of course, didn’t voice that thought. He flew forward and snatched the pouch with his beak; he needed money to recruit more men. Besides, he needed another corpse to use as a puppet; quality bodies always fetched high prices on Lady Lust’s black market.

  “Not leaving yet? Do you have anything else, Jacor?” Mulock impatiently urged to hasten his guest.

  Jacor smiled slyly, clasped his hands behind his back, turned his back to Mulock, and tried to appear mysterious.

  “I want to offer you a big job. Umk! Ten times this pay. I can even give you news of the whereabouts of an Enestone.”

  “WHAT!” Mulock drew a sharp breath.

  He quickly shifted back into human form, once again dressed neatly. Mulock took care with his appearance when he was human; he considered it professional, a sign of respect to his partners. In a measured, agreeable tone, Mulock approached Jacor and asked seriously,

  “Sir Jacor, may I know what this next task you want me to undertake is?”

  Jacor did not turn around. He spoke slowly.

  “It’s not difficult. Join the Hesmor army. We will strike Golden.”

  In the capital city of Mornet, Aster had not been able to sleep for many nights. Every time he closed his eyes, the image of the monster Ti appeared again, grinning horrifically, its mouth stretching from ear to ear. He knew it was always nearby, watching him with eyes full of hunger. Sometimes, he could even hear the sound of swallowing right beside him but whenever he turned around, there was no one there.

  With dark circles under his eyes, Aster flipped through each report in the pile of overflowing papers on his desk, trying to focus on settling the complaints and demands of those damned nobles. After Rumi’s death, Aster purged all opposing factions, those who could be bribed, he bribed; those who could be lured, he lured. The stubborn ones were either killed or exiled.

  Voga’s territory was divided into several parts, split among three great families. Voga was forced to compromise otherwise, his entire family would be slaughtered. The death of Noman changed the old man; he became calmer, more calculating, no longer impulsive as before, for there was no longer the intelligent son who once tried to fix his mistakes.

  After Aster ascended the throne, his cooperation with The Writter ended. Ti was no longer needed to protect him and their next meeting would be on the battlefield. Hesmor began preparing for war. The three great families devoted themselves to recruiting soldiers, calling upon the people to enlist with generous rewards.

  The territory of Melor became the logistical center, supplying food, weapons, and horses.

  The port of Mornet welcomed countless sailing ships arriving, filled with mercenaries from Break Island. Everything was rebuilt swiftly after Naga’s devastation. The merchants of Greaton were expelled, replaced by people of the great families. The Half-Mornet Agreement was broken, and Greaton even had to compensate part of the losses caused by their delay in sending reinforcements.

  The land of Hesmir and the border region along the Emerald River became the most important war front. The dreamy luminous towers were transformed into tall observation posts. Three great fortresses, Fugger, Medit, and Loket were constructed, representing the three main attack lines of Hesmor against Golden.

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  The Fugger Fortress was managed by the Fugger family, possessing the largest army. The supreme commander was Fugger Mullack, the “nephew” of Jacor, and the vice commander was Ceasar. They commanded the most powerful army, the spearhead force directly striking Golden, stationed on the border plains that once were Exitus’s village.

  Jagger Mullack was a young Battle King. He had no notable achievements, and his position as supreme commander caused much dissatisfaction among the ranks. Yet, with Jacor’s support and Ceasar’s assistance, his position could not be shaken. Moreover, Mullack proved himself to be a formidable warrior. He challenged all those who opposed him to a cage battle. The fight was fierce. Mullack alone faced more than ten Battle Kings. In the end, the only one who walked out alive was Mullack, with a strange red parrot perched on his shoulder.

  Inside the luxurious and resplendent palace of Golden, the council was once again convened. The chieftains of all great families attended, present in full and on time. The purpose of this meeting was not to summon punishment or accusation, but to discuss the coming war against Hesmor. Richer, with a calm expression, sat in the throne seat, waiting for each chieftain to voice their opinions.

  Nash, the chieftain of the BloodClaw clan looked grim. His domain lay upon the plains along the Emerald River, directly facing Hesmor, the very place that would be the first to be attacked once war broke out. From his own fortress, Nash could already see the massive army across the river, a vast sea of soldiers, as dense as ants.

  The BloodClaw clan were fierce, savage warriors, who fought side by side with their ferocious plains wolves. The Wolf Cavalry was their signature force, capable of lightning marches, ambushes, and hit-and-run tactics that coordinated with other fronts. Yet, they were by no means a siege army. That made Nash passive. He could only wait for the enemy to strike first.

  “This time, it will not be a small skirmish like before. Hesmor seeks a full-scale war. My forces are not suited for the opening battle. I will need support from the GoldenFang troops. The Wolf Cavalry excels in ambush, scouting, and attrition warfare. The river terrain is utterly unfavorable for the BloodClaw to engage effectively,” Nash voiced his concern.

  Net did not answer right away. Slowly, he pointed to three red marks on the military map and said coldly:

  “The three fortresses built opposite Golden show their naked intent. They are simply confident in their armies and in the command of the three great families. Look here, Nash! Your territory faces only one front, powerful but clear. Mine, however, is complicated. Though the Infernic Range supports my defense, I must face two major forces and I cannot predict which flank they will strike. My troops must remain concentrated for defense. I cannot spare any to aid you.”

  “Defense? What are you thinking, Net? Do you truly believe they will somehow march through the Infernic Mountains, or cross the Black Sea, reach the Valley of Death, and attack from behind? Your entire land is a natural fortress! Do you think they’re foolish enough to throw their main forces into such disastrous terrain?” Nash shouted angrily.

  “Anything can happen, Nash. Remember what I’m guarding . It's Allblack, the factory of Dark Despair. The very lifeblood of this nation,” Net replied indifferently.

  “Enough,” Richer frowned.

  Net’s army could not be moved. They were not simply guarding a weapon factory. They were guarding something far more secret and important.

  “There must be a reason they chose to build those fortresses where they did. Nash, withdraw your forces deeper into your territory, the outer region will serve as a buffer zone. Hush’s army will reinforce and hold the front line. Heria’s troops will stay in position, awaiting orders.”

  “If Your Majesty wishes for me to move out, I have no objection,” Hush said with a sneer. “But shouldn’t the Night Wing and DragonScale clans also provide support? Even if their lands lie in the east of Golden and won’t face the main collision, they are still part of this kingdom.”

  Hush’s words made Drake bristle with irritation. He hated being ordered by anyone even by Richer. The DragonScale clan was far superior to ordinary races. They carried in their veins the faint blood of a mythical being; although it is thin and weak, it is still enough to make them immeasurably stronger than the common folk.

  “You’re telling me what to do?” Drake said coldly.

  “Boom.”

  The aura released from him pressed heavily over the entire hall but most of all, on Hush himself. Of course, as the chieftain of the RhinoHorn clan, Hush might be foolish, yet he was by no means weak; on the contrary, he was tremendously strong.

  “Boom.”

  Hush released his own aura in return. The collision of the two forces made the ground tremble violently, golden-inlaid walls cracking under the pressure.

  “Would the two of you care to show me a little respect?” Richer’s cold voice rang out like a bucket of icy water poured over the two fuming chieftains. A powerful surge of Will shattered the pressure of both of them at once.

  “The intensity of that Will… so strong! Has he already reached the rank of Sorcerer Emperor?” Drake narrowed his eyes, suspicion flickering within them. “Such rapid growth.”

  Richer sat calmly upon his seat. It was rare for Hush to say something that pleased him. Since the founding of this nation, the DragonScale and NightWing clans had always been the two that caused him the most headaches with their secrecy. Perhaps this was a good opportunity for Richer to gauge a fraction of their strength.

  “Hush is right. As members of Golden, you all must contribute. Drake and Mys will dispatch forces to support the BloodClaw clan at the main front. As for you, Heria! Have your people keep a close watch on Greaton’s side."

  He didn't want another incident like the one at Mornet to happen again. The "Naga attack" had been an event far beyond Richer’s calculations. Had they succeeded, Aster would have been killed and his entire plan would have been delayed for a very long time.

  “Fortunately, King had a contingency plan. Hmph! Damn those Greaton fools… soon, it will be your turn,” Richer thought to himself.

  “All right, everyone. There is still some time before the true war begins. Make your preparations quickly and follow the plans already set. Today’s council meeting is over.”

  Outside, the chieftain Hush departed swiftly, hastily climbing onto his carriage to return to his domain.Inside, the carriage was furnished with exquisite detail, the seat padded with the finest, softest cotton, faintly scented with the fragrance of noble incense.

  “I never expected the great Chieftain Hush to have such refined tastes.”The voice was alluring.

  Heria sat opposite him, one leg crossed over the other, revealing her pale, smooth skin. She rested her chin on her hand as she admired the view outside the window, while the other arm curved lightly around her waist, as if to lift her heavy chest. Hush wasn’t surprised in the least, but unlike his usual foolishly lustful demeanor, he appeared unusually calm and thoughtful.

  “What do you want from me, Heria?”

  Heria stared intently at him, as if searching for something hidden within. Then she suddenly smiled brightly.

  “I just wanted to check on an old friend, that’s all! To make sure everything’s going smoothly.”

  “If that’s all, then thank you, my lady. I’m perfectly fine, no problem at all.”

  Heria raised a finger to Hush’s lips, silencing him. Her voice shifted suddenly light, playful, almost childlike.

  “You know, Hush, in my territory there once existed a very special kind of drink. Its flavor was absolutely divine. When you tasted it, it felt as if you were floating, blissful. It was said to be far better than even Meli wine.”

  Hush frowned, but then his eyes lit up, as if understanding something. He responded with sudden enthusiasm.

  “Oh! Remarkable! I wish I could have the chance to taste it.”

  Heria smiled seductively, her brows narrowing slightly as she continued,

  “However, to brew that drink, six main herbs are required. One of them has already been lost to time. Though there might be a substitute, the taste would surely be affected. Fortunately, aside from that one, I’ve already gathered three of the essential ingredients. The remaining two should soon be within reach.”

  “Wonderful! When the time comes, you must invite me to your lands! I love fine wine more than life itself. We can enjoy that legendary drink together.”

  “Oh, of course! I was only worried you might be too busy to come,” Heria said with a teasing squint and a smile.

  “As long as a beautiful lady calls for me, I’ll come at once,” Hush replied calmly.

  “Ha ha ha! It seems you haven’t changed at all! Still the same gluttonous, indulgent man.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “Well then! I won’t bother you any longer. I’ll be going now.”

  Her body gradually dissolved like a thin mist, her scent brushing lightly across Hush’s face. When the haze faded away, only Hush remained sitting quietly in the moving carriage, deep in thought. Sunlight spilled across the carriage, casting its shadow upon the road and if one looked closely, hidden deep within that shadow were a pair of dull eyes and a wide mouth full of monstrous fangs.