Having settled her family and refreshed herself with a long bath, Relia Amia emerged in a new attire that shimmered like liquid starlight, her silver cloak brushing the floor like a whisper of wind.
Her presence radiated calm and subtle power, the air around her humming softly with empathic resonance. She stepped into the strategy chamber where a heated yet relaxed discussion was underway.
Josh Aratat stood at the centre, flanked by Conrad Stan, Adino, Lola, and several of his trusted generals. His black dragon mask glinted under the low-hanging crystal lights, an enigma etched in shadows and power.
"So," Josh said, adjusting the mask ever so slightly, "after we neutralize the manticore threat in the heart of El'dan city, we might spare a few moments to explore El'dan. I've heard whispers about its beauty, the breathtaking scenery—the city of Merolph, the legendary carpenter."
"Yes, my Lord," Adino nodded eagerly, his tone reverent. "The tree of myths still stands—the Heartwood of El'dan. They say its bark doesn't burn, and under moonlight, it glows like it remembers something."
A sharp throat-clearing sound cut through the conversation. It came from behind where they all stood. "Mhhggggmm."
All heads turned.
Relia Amia stood at the entrance. Radiant, poised, deadly. Her presence was like a spell—one that clawed at men's rationality. If not for her being an Empath, half the room might've fallen to their knees or done something foolish. Even Conrad Stan, proud and disciplined, felt his chest tighten. He swallowed hard, chaining his heartbeat with discipline.
"You're ready," the black dragon's voice came, low and smoky.
"Yes, my Lord… ready when you are," she answered, her eyes lowered in a way that made her look like a bride pledging herself to destiny.
Josh gave a subtle eye-gesture—just a flick—and that was all Conrad Stan needed.
"Alright, everyone, we move out!" Conrad called, voice like a warhorn. His commands always came after reading the barely perceptible cues from Josh. Their bond went beyond rank—honed by time, trust, and battles fought shoulder-to-shoulder.
One by one, the thirteen generals—including the newly inducted Relia—filed out of the Black Dragon Base, their formation tight and purposeful. Josh Aratat led the way, Lola and Conrad flanking him like twin blades. Relia Amia walked behind Lola, silent and watchful.
"Shouldn't we bring more troops?" Naze muttered, half to himself. "Some from the pool of the general army have broken through to Major-1 rank…"
"No," Conrad said sharply, already briefed on the reasoning. "This isn't just about killing a beast. It's about strengthening our core, our understanding of one another, our team work and cooperation. The rest will get their chance. This one's for the thirteen generals."
Their journey led them through the gate of the Black dragon base, towards the heart of Brimhold City, and then to the exit of the city gate. At top speed, it would take eight hours on foot, unless they tapped into their abilities—which could shave off nearly six hours. But for now, they walked. Purposefully. Together.
As they moved, conversation bloomed—generals swapping tales, learning each other's quirks, laughing, and occasionally throwing playful jabs. Josh said little, but he heard everything. He had chosen them not just for stats, but for something deeper. The Kingly System Interphase in his mind picked then as his generals, and to do that it had its standards. It evaluated more than skill. It gauged loyalty, raw potential, future possibilities and something unquantifiable—guts.
Some in the pool of the general army had better visible stats, true. But the Interphase had selected these thirteen. And Josh trusted it just as much as he would trust himself.
Conrad kept stealing glances at Relia Amia. He couldn't help himself, something about her stirred his heart. He tried to keep it hidden. He wouldn't hear the end of it, especially, if Lola caught sight of him. She will mock him to death, so he had to be very careful. He thought he was being subtle, but... He wasn't.
"You should just talk to her," Lola said, exasperated. "Seriously, stop acting like a lovesick recruit."
"Oh, easy for you to say," Conrad hissed back, prepared to not allow her to bully him off the edge. "When was the last time you told Josh how you felt?"
"Shhh!" Lola whipped her head toward him. "Do not say his name out loud. You know only we two know his true identity." Lola frowned deeply, she still had that protective instinct of a maid who had been tasked with taking care of her prince.
Conrad smirked. "Exactly. And yet, you look at him like the sun rises in his shadow. Don't give me that 'he's our master' crap. Your feelings aren't buried—they're flooding you, flowing freely in your very blood."
Lola's eyes darkened. With a flick, her whip—a rare Earth-Rank weapon—uncoiled and snapped into her hand like a striking serpent.
"I went too far," Conrad said quickly, raising his hands. "I shouldn't have said so much." he stepped back by two steps, almost colliding with the person coming from behind.
Lola stayed quiet. She glanced at Josh's back, now a few paces ahead. He hadn't turned. But he'd heard every word.
Thanks to the Kingly System, any Death-Level Loyalist was open to him. He could hear their words, see through their eyes, even behind walls or through illusions. If he chose to, he could eavesdrop on their prayers.
But he said nothing.
Secrets meant little to him now. Only loyalty mattered. And for those under his absolute trust, he gave silence in return—because silence was sometimes more powerful than words.
Conrad and Lola fell back in line, the weight of their conversation hanging like fog. Neither spoke, but both knew—something had shifted.
And ahead, El'dan City awaited.
Not a conquest.
A liberation.
A monstrous manticore held Enchanters, Mages, sorcerers, innocents and Elves in iron cages, devouring them slowly—one after the other, both physically and spiritually. Josh Aratat hadn't just chosen his thirteen for strength.
He chose them for justice.
For war.
And for what comes after.