The calm before the storm did not last.
Word of the Alliance of the North spread like wildfire through the Empire. A human duke uniting with the elves — it was unheard of, unthinkable. To the nobles, it was treason. To the commoners, it was legend.
But to the royal court… it was war.
In the imperial capital, a council was held beneath golden banners and blood-red carpets. The Emperor, frail and coughing, sat upon his throne as his two sons glared at each other across the hall.
"The North grows bolder each day," said the Second Prince, a man with eyes like cold steel. "He gathers an army, trains them in foreign martial arts, and now he dares ally with elves. It's rebellion!"
The First Prince, calm and composed, smirked. "Rebellion? Perhaps he merely seeks peace. The North has always been left to its own devices."
"Peace?" The second prince scoffed. "You sound just like him. Weak."
The Emperor's voice, thin yet sharp, silenced them."Enough. The boy in the North must be reminded of his place. Prepare the 3rd Imperial Legion. Burn his lands if you must — but bring me his head."
The Second Prince bowed. "As you command, Father."
And thus, the Flames of Rebellion were lit.
Far to the north, Arden stood upon the battlements of Frostvale Keep, gazing down at the sprawling valley below. Thousands of soldiers trained beneath him — men and women who had once been farmers, hunters, and wanderers. Now, they bore the black and gold banners of the North.
Mira ran up the stairs, breathless. "Master! Scouts report movement from the south — imperial banners sighted along the ridge!"
"How many?" Arden asked.
Selene stepped from the shadows. "Five thousand men. Two legions. They're moving fast."
Elyndra's hand gripped her sword. "That's an invasion force."
Aranelle entered the chamber, her silver hair glimmering beneath her hood. "Then the Empire has declared war on you — and by extension, on me."
Arden smiled faintly. "Then let's make sure they regret it."
Snowstorm winds howled across the battlefield as the imperial army appeared — a sea of soldiers in crimson armor, their torches glowing like scattered stars.
From their vanguard, a general raised his blade high. "By the Emperor's decree, surrender or be purged!"
Arden stepped forward, his black coat fluttering in the wind. His golden eyes gleamed like fire beneath the moonlight.
"Surrender?" he said quietly. "You march upon my land with fire and steel… and you ask me to kneel?"
He raised his hand. "Archers — ready."
The imperial soldiers scoffed. "Arrows can't pierce plate armor, boy!"
Arden's lips curved into a thin smile. "Then let's see whose armor holds."
He thrust his palm downward. "Loose!"
Thousands of arrows darkened the sky — not ordinary shafts, but ones infused with Qi. Each arrow whistled like thunder, piercing through armor as if it were paper.
The front ranks of the imperial army fell before they could even raise shields.
The general's eyes widened. "Impossible—!"
Arden leapt from the battlement, landing in the snow with a burst of golden energy. His soldiers roared as their duke walked toward the enemy line alone.
"Forward!" he shouted. "Show them what the North has forged!"
The battlefield erupted into chaos.
Mira dashed through the snow like lightning, her fists wrapped in Qi, smashing through knights twice her size. Elyndra danced between enemies, her blade trailing wind that severed steel and bone alike.
Selene moved unseen, cutting throats before her targets could even scream.
Above them, Aranelle floated gracefully, chanting in Elven tongue. The sky shimmered green as Nature Mana surged — roots erupted from the frozen ground, impaling entire squads of soldiers.
"Now you see," she said softly, "the wrath of the forest you sought to burn."
At the center of it all stood Arden, surrounded by dozens of imperial knights.
Their blades flashed, but he moved through them like a storm, each strike of his knife tearing through armor and flesh alike. Qi radiated from him in golden waves, shattering weapons and freezing enemies mid-swing.
An imperial knight screamed, "Monster!"
Arden's expression was cold. "No. Just human… perfected."
He struck the ground with his palm — and from the snow erupted countless golden Qi seals, each one releasing a pulse of energy that flattened the surrounding army.
When the light faded, hundreds lay unconscious.
The few who survived dropped their weapons and fled.
Hours later, the snow was crimson.
Arden stood amid the silence of victory, his breath steady despite the exhaustion gnawing at his body.
Mira approached, her ears drooping. "We… we won."
Elyndra smirked. "Of course we did. He's the Duke of the North."
Selene knelt, wiping blood from her blade. "But this victory will not go unnoticed. The Empire will come again — stronger."
Aranelle nodded solemnly. "They will not forgive this humiliation."
Arden looked toward the southern horizon, where the faint glow of the Empire still flickered.
"Let them come," he said quietly. "Every battle they send will forge us stronger."
He turned to his companions — his eyes blazing with unshakable resolve.
"The North will no longer bow. From this day on… we rise as a nation of our own."
That night, the villagers celebrated around roaring bonfires. Songs echoed through the snowfields — songs of freedom, of defiance, of unity.
But Arden did not join the feast. He stood alone on the watchtower, staring into the distance.
The flames of rebellion had begun, and though victory had been sweet, he knew this was only the first spark of a greater war.
He closed his eyes, whispering to the cold wind:If the Empire wishes for war… then I shall give them a war that will echo through eternity.