The village square felt like a stage set for an execution. The lead "Vanguard" scout, mounted on a massive white charger, tightened his grip on a lance that hummed with artificial solar heat. The golden light from the weapon reflected off the white marble of the "Martyr King" statue, creating a blinding glare that made the villagers shield their eyes.Clevatess stood his ground, his midnight-black tunic absorbing the golden light rather than reflecting it. The gold embroidery on his collar seemed to deepen in color, turning a rich, ancient bronze as his mana began to stir.
"I will ask one last time, traveler," the scout barked, the plates of his gold-and-silver Clevatess didn't reach for a sword. He simply let his raven-feather mantle fall back, revealing the silver dragon brooch pinned to his shoulder. "I do not stand against the monument," Clevatess said, his voice carrying like a bell across the square. "I stand against the lie it tells. A King does not need a statue to be remembered."
The scout let out a roar of "Blasphemy!" and spurred his horse forward. The lance leveled at Clevatess's heart, the tip erupting into a white-hot flame designed to melt through any defense.
Clevatess didn't flinch. He raised a single finger.
Instantly, the moisture in the air solidify A spear of Absolute Zero ice, as clear as diamond and as sharp as a razor, erupted from the cobblestones. It didn't hit the horse; it struck the lance tip, the extreme cold instantly snuffing out the solar flame. The scout's weapon shattered into a thousand pieces of glowing dust.
"Your light is artificial," Clevatess whispered, as a violet aura began to spiral around his feet, cracking the stone beneath him. "It lacks the weight of a true soul."
The other scouts panicked, their horses rearing back as the temperature in the square dropped forty degrees in a second. Alicia and Nelluru moved to the flanks,
their own magical signatures flaring—one a sharp, military blue and the other a lime-green pulse.
Clevatess stepped toward the lead scout, who was now trembling on the ground. The King looked up at the marble statue of himself, then back at the terrified soldier. "Go back to your High Citadel. Tell the Queen that the 'Martyr' has come to reclaim his name."