The canyon still smelled of burnt stone when the prisoners were brought in.
Not many.
The rebels who survived had not fought like fanatics. They had retreated with structure, covering each other, breaking formation only when necessary.
That unsettled Arthur more than chaos would have.
He stood inside the temporary command tent as four bound captains were forced to kneel.
Emperor Caelus stood behind him.
Not interfering.
Watching.
Arthur studied them carefully.
No hysteria in their eyes.
No madness.
Just conviction.
"You raised banners openly," Arthur said calmly. "Why?"
Silence.
One of them finally spoke.
"Because hiding implies shame."
Arthur tilted his head slightly.
"And you feel none?"
The man's lip curled faintly.
"We do not fear being seen."
Arthur crouched to eye level.
"You attacked border villages."
"We struck military supply routes."
"Farmers died."
"Collateral."
Arthur's expression did not change.
That seemed to frustrate the rebel more than anger would have.
"You fracture the empire," the captain continued. "You weaken tradition. You distort order."
Arthur's gaze sharpened.
"You speak like a priest."
A faint smile.
"We follow prophecy."
Caelus shifted slightly behind him.
Arthur's voice remained even.
"Which prophecy?"
The man's jaw tightened.
"The Fractured Sovereign."
The tent grew quieter.
Arthur let the words hang.
"And what does that mean?"
The captain hesitated for the first time.
"You burn too bright… and too uneven. The empire will shatter under you."
Arthur did not react.
But internally —
He remembered the festival.
The crack.
The suppression.
The hesitation.
He leaned slightly closer.
"And who interprets this prophecy for you?"
The captain's eyes hardened.
"He sees the fracture clearly."
Arthur's tone sharpened just slightly.
"Who."
Silence.
The captain smiled faintly.
"You will meet him when you are ready."
Arthur stood.
"Remove them."
The prisoners were taken away.
Caelus stepped forward.
"They believe in him."
"Yes."
"Fanatics?"
"No."
Arthur's voice was thoughtful.
"They're disciplined. Structured. They've been preparing."
Caelus studied his son.
"And?"
Arthur's gaze drifted northward again.
"He wants legitimacy."
Caelus didn't ask how he knew.
Arthur continued.
"If he were just rebelling, he'd attack supply chains indefinitely. He's trying to force open confrontation."
"To what end?"
Arthur's jaw tightened faintly.
"To prove something."
Later That Night
Arthur returned to the canyon alone.
Not into the tunnels.
Just to the ridge.
Valthyrix landed beside him.
The dragon's presence alone burned the chill from the air.
You think too loudly.
Arthur didn't smile.
"They're not desperate."
No.
"They're deliberate."
The dragon's eyes narrowed.
Another scent lingered.
Arthur's head turned slightly.
"Not the storm dragon?"
No. Something sharper. Brief. Controlled.
Arthur's chest tightened faintly.
Suppression.
He felt it then.
A subtle shift in mana flow.
Not full suppression.
Not forced.
Just… interference.
The air felt slightly thicker.
His core responded.
The crack pulsed faintly.
Arthur did not flare his aura.
He did not react visibly.
Instead, he exhaled slowly and stepped forward.
"Show yourself."
Silence.
Then—
A flicker.
Across the opposite ridge.
A small metallic device embedded in stone.
Humming faintly.
Arthur's eyes narrowed.
Not battlefield suppression.
Observation suppression.
A probe.
Testing how his mana reacted under minor interference.
He drew his blade.
But did not strike immediately.
He walked toward it.
Calm.
Measured.
The hum grew slightly louder.
His mana output dipped — not violently.
Just enough.
Five percent.
Then ten.
Arthur stopped walking.
He closed his eyes.
Let his breathing slow.
Instead of pushing against it—
He adjusted.
He compressed his aura inward.
Minimized leakage.
Stabilized flow.
The crack pulsed… then steadied.
Arthur opened his eyes.
And with a single precise strike —
He shattered the device.
The hum died instantly.
Silence returned to the ridge.
Valthyrix's voice rumbled in his mind.
They test your weakness.
"Yes."
You did not flare.
"No."
Arthur turned back toward the canyon.
"They wanted reaction."
"And you denied them.**
Arthur's eyes darkened slightly.
"For now."
Far Away
In a dim underground chamber, Lyra watched the projection fade.
Caelum adjusted the crystal lens.
"Ten percent suppression stable at distance."
Lyra leaned back slowly.
"He did not panic."
"No."
"He adapted."
She tilted her head slightly.
"Interesting."
Caelum's voice remained neutral.
"We escalate?"
"Not yet."
She smiled faintly.
"Let him think he understands the rhythm."
Back in the Imperial Camp
Arthur returned to the command tent.
Caelus was waiting.
"You went alone," the Emperor said.
"Yes."
"You found something."
Arthur nodded once.
"Suppression probe."
Caelus's expression hardened.
"Range?"
"Limited."
"Reaction?"
"I stabilized."
Caelus studied him carefully.
"You didn't destroy it immediately."
"No."
"Why?"
Arthur's voice remained calm.
"Because if I flared in response, they would learn more."
Caelus's lips curved faintly.
"Good."
He stepped closer.
"They are studying you."
Arthur met his father's gaze.
"I know."
Caelus's voice lowered slightly.
"Then let them study something dangerous."
Arthur did not answer.
But for the first time since the canyon battle—
He felt clarity.
This wasn't about brute victory.
It was about control.
About denying information.
About refusing to be baited.
The secret organization had revealed ideology.
The twins had revealed technology.
And somewhere behind both—
A man waited.
Confident.
Patient.
Arthur looked toward the north again.
"You want me to fracture."
His eyes hardened.
"Then you will be disappointed."