Skols lay half-kneeling, his armor cracked and his spirit heavier than his wounds. Nihal reached out, pulling his father to his feet.
Skols' weary eyes met his son's.
> "I couldn't uphold the honor of your grandfather, Nelson… nor could I fulfill your mother Nerin's last wish."
Nihal, despite the ache in his voice, managed a faint smile.
> "Father, what's written in fate cannot be undone by us. You did what you could."
A faint chuckle slipped from Skols' lips. But as he looked into the battlefield's blood-stained soil, his mind drifted into the depths of memory—back to a time long before this war began.
---
Flashback: The Rise of Skols
Decades ago, Skols and his family fled their homeland, seeking refuge in the Falmuth Empire. His father, Siven, had been a retired knight—sixty-one when Skols was barely twenty-one.
Siven had served with honor through countless battles, retiring at forty-eight to live a quiet life in a small border village. There, Skols was born, inheriting his father's unwavering will.
But destiny is cruel.
When the Demon Empire declared war on their kingdom, devastation followed. Ironically, the Demons hadn't wanted war—the arrogance of their king had forced it.
During the chaos, Skols' mother Hina was slain… not by a demon, but by a soldier of their own kingdom.
Siven, shattered yet resolute, escaped with his son. For months they wandered from realm to realm, treated as fugitives—until at last, the Falmuth Empire opened its gates to them.
They were granted asylum by Emperor Nelson, who owed Siven a debt—Siven had once saved the emperor's wife, Amilab. That single act of valor had earned them sanctuary.
Determined to begin anew, Skols devoted himself to knighthood. His skill, loyalty, and humility won hearts across the empire. Eventually, Nelson offered his daughter Nerin's hand to him, sealing Skols' future with royal blood.
For a time, peace reigned.
But after Emperor Nelson's death, the empire's tone shifted. Though politics darkened, Skols and Nerin's marriage endured. Within four years, their children, Ninia and Nihal, were born.
Yet from the moment of their birth, Nerin began to drift away—emotionally and spiritually. She had never wished to be a mother. And Skols knew it.
---
The Contract of Shadows
Snapping back from his thoughts, Skols steadied himself beside Nihal.
Nearby, Thomas held a sealed parchment. He looked at Ren, his tone sharp and skeptical.
> "An unknown organization, outlawed by every empire, now signs a historic treaty with one? What madness is this?"
Ren remained calm, his silver eyes unblinking.
> "Madness or not, this is the deal. From this moment, the Falmuth Empire falls under the protection of Black Eye."
A stunned silence followed. Thomas' brows furrowed.
> "Protection? Or control?"
> "Both," Ren replied. "The Empire will still govern itself—but all strategic and military decisions will be approved through us. We will ensure its survival… our way."
Thomas muttered under his breath, "Just like Cromon… exactly what I feared. What are they really planning?"
Skols exhaled, his voice low and hollow.
> "I have no power left to fight. If this treaty spares my people, that's enough for me."
Ren nodded.
> "Your people will be safe, Skols. That, I promise."
Thomas sighed, forcing a bitter smile.
> "Very well. Let's finalize the agreement."
Ren gestured to his aide.
> "Eliza, bring the document."
A slender woman stepped forward, offering the parchment with silent precision.
Thomas smirked.
> "Prepared in advance, I see. How thoughtful."
Ren signed first, then handed it to Skols, who carefully read every line before adding his own signature.
Thomas moved to add his seal—but Ren interrupted.
> "Wait. There's one more who must sign."
Thomas frowned.
> "And who might that be? Another lunatic?"
Before Skols could respond, the air around them rippled. The ground trembled. Shadows twisted.
Thomas' eyes widened.
> "Then it's true… the rumors about him—the being called Arre."
A cold, invisible hand gripped his shoulder. A whisper brushed his ear.
> "So, you know my name."
Thomas froze—his mind invaded, his thoughts laid bare. The unseen presence laughed softly.
> "You think too much, officer. Let's get this over with."
Ren snapped impatiently,
> "Arre, stop playing games. Sign it and go."
Reality warped for a moment, then steadied.
A dark silhouette appeared briefly, its form barely human.
> "You people started without me? How rude. Ah well… I've got things to do."
He signed the parchment with a flick of his hand. Before vanishing into thin air, he smirked.
> "Remember my name… Arre."
---
Thomas exhaled, sweat tracing his temple.
> "Since both parties are registered with the Continental Organization, this treaty will remain with us."
Ren narrowed his gaze.
> "And how can I trust it will stay secure in your hands?"
Thomas smiled thinly.
> "In time, you'll see why you can."
He turned to leave, his expression unreadable. As he passed Skols, their eyes met—Thomas offered only silence, and a look of quiet defeat.
Inside, Thomas's mind was a storm.
> Black Eye… why now? Why intervene with empires? What do they truly want—and what power drives them?
---
Elsewhere... The Council of Shadows
A vast chamber surrounded by cascading vines and crystal-lit streams.
At its center stood a table carved from a single ancient stone, upon which a glowing orb projected moving images like a living mirror.
A red-haired elder slammed his hand on the table.
> "Thomas couldn't stop them? Are you telling me we've lost another empire to Black Eye?"
A young woman with long black hair, her eyes hidden beneath silken strands tied by white cloth, replied calmly:
> "Engaging someone like Ren was reckless. Sending a field officer into that chaos wasn't strategy—it was stupidity."
A third figure, face obscured in shadow, spoke coldly:
> "This matter is beyond the Eleven Conquests. It falls under the Twelve Guardians—or perhaps… the Fifteen Officers."
With a wave of his hand, a holographic image of Thomas shimmered into view.
> "Tell us, Thomas… what have you learned of Ren?"
> "Your Highness," Thomas said, bowing slightly. "They're not ordinary. I believe they have ties to the Devil Charge… and follow something—or someone—called the God of Reality."
The shadowed man, known as Mr'Click, raised his hand in an intricate gesture.
> "Then keep your eyes on them. Stay close if you must. Report everything."
Before Thomas could reply, the black-haired woman stepped in.
> "I'm Roxy. Should you face trouble, contact me first. And any information you find—bring it to me."
Thomas hesitated.
> "And the others?"
From the end of the table, a deep voice cut through.
> "No need. If they're silent, it means they agree. Now go."
The hologram flickered and vanished.
---
Meanwhile... In the Forest Dungeon
Far from the politics and shadows, Michael, Chris, and Emily trained relentlessly under the watchful eyes of their mentors.
Michael's combat instincts had sharpened dramatically, his movements flowing like water, his blade guided by purpose. He'd even begun mastering fragments of specialized magic.
Sweat dripping, he asked,
> "So… how much longer will this training last?"
Enel replied casually,
> "At this pace? Two… maybe three more years."
Chris groaned.
> "Three years? Come on! Isn't there any faster way?"
Enel smirked.
> "There is. But it means doubling your routine… every single day."
Chris blinked.
> "Figures…"
The forest echoed with the clash of blades and the pulse of magic — the calm before the storm that was yet to come.
---
To be continued...