The transmission did not end when the crystal dimmed.
It lingered.
In the Command Tower of Groblinheim, far beneath the Southeast's layered stone and rune-etched ceilings, senior tacticians stood frozen around the central war dais, listening to the echo of a man who refused to accept delay.
The crystal flared again.
Lord Ordon Valcryst's image stabilized—grainy, flickering, smoke-streaked. The sound of distant explosions bled faintly through the connection.
"Request escalation!" Ordon snapped. "This is not a standard incursion!"
A command aide at the tower stiffened and relayed the signal through layered authorization arrays. Sigils spun. Lines of verification raced across the table.
A distant voice replied through the crystal, strained and clipped.
"Authority insufficient for war declaration. Continue defensive measures."
The chamber murmured uneasily.
The voice hadn't come from a clerk.
It had come from a regional war adjudicator.
Ordon exhaled sharply.
Again.
"Request reinforcement override," he said, voice hardening.
"Princess Elzra of Groblinheim is present."
The effect was immediate.
The murmurs died.
Every strategist in the Command Tower turned.
The adjudicator hesitated.
"Acknowledged," the voice replied.
"Processing… delayed."
The transmission wavered.
Ordon closed his eyes for half a heartbeat.
Behind him, visible through the projection, Lady Selvia Valcryst knelt beside a wounded knight, her hands glowing softly as she stabilized shattered ribs and torn flesh. Blood streaked her sleeves, but her voice remained calm.
"Any response?" she asked quietly.
"Not fast enough," Ordon replied.
In the tower, a senior commander swore under his breath.
Delayed.
That word meant layers of protocol. Verification. Confirmation.
Time they did not have.
The crystal feed shifted slightly as the shelter shook.
A young hobgoblin tactician leaned forward.
"Confirm Princess Elzra's condition."
Ordon opened his eyes and met the camera directly.
"She is alive," he said. "And fighting."
That was enough.
The adjudicator's voice returned, sharper now.
"Stand by."
The transmission cut—not disconnected, but redirected.
In the Command Tower, warning sigils flared crimson.
A massive map of the Southeast expanded across the table, tunneling routes and surface access points illuminating one by one.
A senior strategist straightened.
"Royal proximity confirmed," she said. "Override threshold met."
Another officer's eyes widened.
"That escalates this beyond border defense."
"Yes," the commander replied flatly. "It does."
He turned sharply.
"Transmit priority escalation to Groblinheim High Command. Full mobilization authorization."
A rune-carved lever was pulled.
Deep within the mountain, ancient mechanisms awakened.
Barracks gates thundered open.
Runed armor sealed itself around disciplined ranks of Hobgoblin Knights, each bearing the sigil of the Southeast Strategists. Spell-lancers ignited their crests. Tunnel cavalry mounted scaled beasts bred for subterranean warfare.
A stabilized corridor of folded space began to form—dangerous, costly, and reserved only for threats involving the royal line.
An aide swallowed.
"Destination?"
The commander didn't hesitate.
"Dra'thiel."
The war table pulsed.
Miles away, the transmission crystal reactivated.
Ordon's image returned, clearer now.
"Lord Valcryst," the adjudicator said. "Reinforcements are mobilizing. Hold your position."
Ordon nodded once.
"That's all I needed."
The crystal dimmed.
In Groblinheim, the first battalion stepped into the corridor.
And in Dra'thiel—
Where streets burned, space bent, and an Abyssal enforcer tested the limits of reality—
Kingdoms had finally decided to move.
✦ A Saint and a Loudmouth
The street was already burning when they reached it.
Kael Valcryst strode through the smoke like he owned the place.
"Unbelievable," he muttered loudly, kicking aside a chunk of fallen masonry. "I leave for five minutes and the whole village turns into a dungeon crawl."
Behind him, Lina Valcryst hurried to keep up, clutching a satchel packed with bandages, water flasks, and glowing vials of restorative salve. Her soft boots splashed through puddles of ash-darkened water as she glanced around with wide, worried eyes.
"Kael… please don't shout," she said gently. "There are people hiding."
Kael snorted. "Good. Then they'll hear me cleaning this mess up."
A distant explosion rolled through the night, shaking the half-collapsed buildings around them. Somewhere far ahead, magic screamed—deep, violent, wrong—and the air itself seemed to recoil.
Lina flinched.
Kael grinned.
"See?" he said, tapping the hilt of his sword. "That's my cue."
They turned the corner into what had once been a narrow residential lane.
It was unrecognizable now.
Walls had been torn open like paper. Roof beams lay splintered across the street. Fires burned unchecked, licking at door-frames where families had once lived. A pair of hobgoblin villagers crouched behind an overturned cart, clutching each other and sobbing.
Lina immediately rushed toward them.
"Oh—are you hurt?" she asked softly, kneeling beside them without hesitation. A faint, soothing glow spread from her hands as she pressed a water flask into trembling fingers. "You're safe. I promise. Please drink—slowly."
The villagers stared at her like they were seeing an angel.
"Little Saint Lina…" one whispered, voice breaking.
Kael rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, she does that. You're welcome. Now scram somewhere less explode-y."
Lina shot him a reproachful look.
"Kael!"
"What? I'm being efficient."
The ground shuddered.
A heavy, wet sound echoed down the lane—something between a footstep and a body being dragged.
Kael's grin widened.
"Ooooh. There it is."
From the smoke ahead, something massive lumbered into view.
The abyssal monster was huge—easily twice Kael's height, its body a grotesque bulk of warped muscle and blackened hide. Veins pulsed with dark energy beneath its skin, and its head was a mess of jagged bone and too many eyes, each one swiveling independently as it took in the destruction around it.
It sniffed the air.
Then it roared.
The villagers screamed and scattered.
Lina gasped. "Kael—wait—!"
Too late.
Kael stepped forward, planting his shield with a heavy clang and drawing his sword in one smooth, theatrical motion. His aura ignited around him—bright, aggressive, loud. It pushed the smoke back in a visible wave.
"Alright!" he shouted. "Big ugly thing! You're looking at an S-rank-in-the-making, so try not to die too fast!"
The monster charged.
Kael charged back.
Steel met abyssal flesh in a thunderous impact. Kael slammed his shield into the creature's knee, aura reinforcing the blow, then swung his sword upward in a powerful arc aimed straight for the torso.
The blade hit.
It stuck.
"…Huh," Kael said.
The wound began to close around the sword.
The monster laughed—a deep, bubbling sound that vibrated through Kael's bones.
"Okay," Kael muttered, yanking his blade free. "That's new."
A massive claw slammed into his shield.
Kael was hurled backward, skidding across the stone with a curse. He caught himself on one knee, aura flaring to keep him upright.
"Kael!" Lina cried, already moving toward him.
"I'm fine!" he snapped, forcing himself up. "Don't—don't do the thing!"
"The thing?" Lina asked, voice shaking.
"The healing thing! Or the glowing thing! Or the saint thing!" Kael shouted, pointing his sword again. "You'll just get in the way!"
Lina froze.
Not because she was afraid.
Because she was hurt.
"Oh," she said softly. "I— I understand."
She stepped back, clutching her satchel to her chest.
Kael didn't see her expression.
The monster lunged again.
Kael met it head-on, aura roaring as he poured more will into his strikes. He fought hard—fast, aggressive, relentless—but each blow was answered with adaptation. The creature learned. Hardened. Adjusted.
A claw slipped past Kael's shield.
Pain exploded across his side.
Kael gasped as he was slammed into the ground, stone cracking beneath him. His aura flared wildly, barely holding his body together.
The monster loomed over him, shadows swallowing the street.
Lina covered her mouth.
"Kael…" she whispered.
The creature raised its claws.
And behind it—
The ground split.
Something else was coming.
Kael looked up, aura screaming warnings he could no longer ignore.
"…Ah," he muttered weakly. "That's… not good."
The street groaned.
Darkness poured from the crack.
And Lina took a single step forward.
✦ The One Who Wasn't Looking at Him
Kael Valcryst was going to die.
He realized it not in a flash of terror—but in the quiet moment when his shield arm went numb.
The abyssal monster loomed over him, massive and wrong, its obsidian-plated body steaming where his aura-coated strikes had landed again and again with no effect. Each breath it took dragged heat and pressure from the air, its claws gouging deep trenches into the stone street as it advanced.
Kael gritted his teeth.
Move.
His legs didn't listen.
The monster roared—low, vibrating, close.
Lina screamed his name.
Kael raised his sword anyway.
Not because he thought it would work.
Because pride didn't let him do anything else.
The claw came down.
And missed.
Not because Kael blocked it.
Because something else hit first.
The abyssal monster's chest caved inward with a sound like wet stone breaking.
Not exploded.
Not burned.
Collapsed.
The creature froze mid-motion, its roar cutting off as its massive frame staggered forward—then toppled sideways, crushing a ruined cart as it hit the ground, dead before it finished falling.
Kael stood there, sword raised, aura flaring uselessly.
"…What?" he breathed.
The smallest cloaked figure landed lightly beside the corpse, feet skidding across rubble as if he'd arrived late to something exciting.
"Oh," he said, disappointed. "That was it?"
He glanced down at his fist, flexed it once.
"…Huh. Thought it'd last longer."
Kael stared.
The thing that nearly killed him.
Gone.
With one hit.
The cloaked figure hadn't even looked at him.
"HEY!" Kael shouted. "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!"
The smallest turned his head slowly.
Looked at Kael.
Then looked past him.
"Did you see the one with the spikes earlier?" he asked the air, sounding genuinely curious. "That one popped weird."
Kael's eye twitched.
"DON'T IGNORE ME!"
Two more cloaked figures arrived behind him.
One moved lazily, hands in his pockets, posture loose and utterly unconcerned by the battlefield around them.
The other stopped immediately, scanning the area with sharp, controlled precision.
The woman sighed.
"There you are," she said. "You ran off again."
"It was fun," the smallest replied cheerfully.
The lazy one chuckled. "I got three while you were gone."
The smallest spun on him. "No way."
"Way."
"…Liar."
"Bet."
Kael's jaw dropped.
They were competing.
Over monsters.
While standing next to the corpse of the thing he couldn't beat.
Lina stepped forward shakily, clutching her satchel.
"Th-thank you," she said softly. "You saved my brother."
The smallest blinked.
"Oh. Did I?"
He looked at Kael again, head tilting.
"…Huh."
Then—disinterest.
He turned away.
"Didn't notice," he said, already scanning the street again. "You okay?"
Kael's face flushed red.
"You—YOU DID THAT ON PURPOSE!"
The lazy cloaked figure laughed. "Oof. He's mad."
The woman snapped, "Focus."
Kael stormed forward, aura flaring brighter now—not stronger, just louder.
"You think you can just show up, hide your faces, steal my fight, and act like I don't exist?!"
The smallest glanced back, expression genuinely puzzled.
"…Were you fighting that?"
Kael choked. "YES!"
"Oh," the smallest said. "Why?"
Silence hit like a slap.
The lazy one winced. "Wow."
The woman pinched the bridge of her nose. "Please don't antagonize the locals."
"I wasn't," the smallest replied honestly. "I just thought it was trash."
Kael's aura flared violently.
"That 'trash' almost killed me!"
The smallest looked at him again—really looked this time.
Then shrugged.
"Yeah," he said. "It does that."
And turned away.
Kael shook with rage.
Lina stepped between them instantly, bowing again.
"Please," she said gently. "My brother is… not himself right now. Thank you for helping us."
The woman's posture softened slightly.
"…You're welcome," she said. "Try to stay out of the open streets."
Kael pointed accusingly.
"WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE?! Why are you hiding your faces?!"
The lazy one tilted his head.
"Because it's windy?"
The smallest snorted.
The woman shot them both a glare.
Before anyone could say more—
A distant shockwave rippled through the village.
Not from nearby.
From the center.
Something massive had just collided.
The smallest cloaked figure's head snapped up.
"Oh," he said, eyes bright beneath the hood.
"That felt fun."
The lazy one straightened slightly for the first time.
"…Yeah," he muttered. "That's not normal."
The woman's gaze sharpened toward the horizon.
"…Found him," she whispered.
Kael followed their line of sight, heart pounding.
"Found who?"
None of them answered.
They were already about to move.