The enemy formation slowly parted.
A tall figure stepped forward from the ranks, clad head to toe in black battle armor. His steps were steady, deliberate—calm, but cold.
"My Queen," the man said, dipping his head slightly. But there was no respect in his voice. "You've sat on that throne long enough. It's time to step down. Keep clinging to it, and the people below… they won't stay loyal much longer."
The Phoenix Queen's pupils contracted sharply.
"Drake?"
The name left her lips in a whisper, trembling with disbelief.
She hadn't expected this. Of all people, she never imagined the one leading the rebellion… would be him.
Drake—her most trusted commander. The second-strongest in the entire Phoenix Empire, surpassed only by her.
For years, many had believed he was the rightful heir to the title of Phoenix Queen.
If not for the fact that he lacked the true phoenix bloodline—unable to wield the Undying Flame—this throne might've been his from the start.
