The wind had barely touched her cloak when the towering silhouette of the Postknight HQ came into view. It had only been a day's journey—nothing for someone like her. Yet, the weight she carried made every step feel heavier than it should.
She passed through the grand gates without delay, heading directly toward the Hall of Fame.
There, in the solemn silence of stone and legend, stood Commander Cassandra. The light from the high stained glass windows illuminated the relics before her: weapons that once carved history—now reminders of sacrifice and glory.
One weapon in particular had her in a trance. A large, curved glaive resting in a glass case, its metal dulled with age but still radiating power.
"You admire it often?" Razille asked, her voice cutting gently through the silence.
Cassandra didn't flinch. Her gaze lingered for a moment longer before she turned, her eyes softening at the sight of Razille. "It belonged to Cassius, the first Legendary Postknight. He wielded it during the Battle of Caldemount… when the world almost fell to darkness."
---
Lore Flashback: The Terror of Dark Knight
In 1709 AD, a man named Kreg rose through the ranks of the Knights of Prism Police (K.P.P.), eventually becoming its commander. Revered for his discipline and loyalty, none suspected the truth: he had long been under the influence of the cursed Blacknight Dragon Sword, a corrupt artifact passed down through his bloodline.
Half a year into his command, Kreg turned. Rebelling against Queen Alisya, he unleashed horror upon the kingdom. His army seized Caldemount, the capital, leaving fire and ash in its wake. The Queen was exiled.
But the flame of resistance never died.
In 1711 AD, the Postknights and Border Knights joined forces to reclaim their homeland. The effort was spearheaded by Commander Cassius of the Postknights and Commander Leo of the Border Knights. Though outmatched in brutality, their unity prevailed.
In the decisive clash, Cassius confronted Kreg and shattered his blade, ending his reign of terror.
From that day forward, Cassius was revered as the Legendary Postknight, a title reserved for the rarest of heroes. Since then, only two others—Commander O'Brian and Commander Solomon—have earned the same rank.
---
Cassandra turned back to the display. "Every time I look at these weapons, I'm reminded of the burden we carry..."
Razille nodded, respectfully silent for a moment.
"Commander," she finally said, "I think... we may be facing something similar again."
Cassandra's brow lifted.
---
Razille's Report
Razille quickly detailed the events around Pompom Village, her voice steady despite the weight of what she was revealing. "A cult calling itself the Ashlight Circle is active. Their rituals… the way they operate… it's not normal. Villagers were reporting strange lights in the forest, disappearances. When I investigated, I found scorched symbols carved into the earth—symbols I've never seen in any magical archive. Plus I also get to know that they are behind a boy named Phill, they believe he is a key to veil. A veil that contains ancient powers of Aegles."
Cassandra's footsteps slowed. Her expression shifted from concern to alarm.
"That name..." she said, her brow tightening. "Ashlight Circle… I've heard it recently."
She turned to face Razille fully, her voice growing lower, more deliberate.
"A few weeks ago, my brother— Captain Colins— filled a report. He was patrolling the rural zones between the Prism Kingdom and Sagacia. Mostly quiet terrain, until he stumbled across an abandoned settlement near the hills. Said the place was littered with signs of ritualistic activity. Black ash covering the walls. Totems made from charred wood and bone. He even mentioned hearing voices… chanting in a tongue he couldn't recognize."
Razille's eyes widened. "The same pattern. They leave behind twisted remains, like they're taunting us."
Cassandra nodded grimly. "Colins suspected a connection to the dragon invasion from half a year ago. He believed those cultists may have summoned it—or at least awakened it. But without hard proof, the council brushed it off as battlefield trauma."
Razille clenched her fists. "They're not just a fringe group, then. They're orchestrating something across regions. And if they're connected to the dragon..."
Cassandra finished her sentence for her. "...then this may be bigger than the council thinks."
A tense silence hung between them for a moment before Cassandra spoke again, her voice hushed with a weight of memory. "There was once a time when a single man, twisted by a cursed blade, brought an entire kingdom to its knees. If this cult is tapping into powers like that... we could be staring down a second Dark Knight."
Razille's gaze was sharp, resolute. "Then we need to act now—before the fire spreads."
Cassandra's eyes narrowed, already shifting into command mode. "We will. But this time, we're not waiting for the capital to fall. We're going to find them—and end this before it begins."
---
The Grand Prism Army Divisions
As they walked through the echoing halls lined with aged banners and polished marble, Cassandra's tone softened after that tensed situation, almost nostalgic.
"You know, Junior Razille," she began, "this kingdom isn't held together by strength alone. It's a delicate balance—a harmony between very different kinds of knights."
She gestured toward a mural depicting airships floating over a stormy sea.
"The Airknights. They're the ones who build, fly, and fix the impossible. They keep our skies safe and our gear running. Without them, half our operations would crash before they even start."
She continued walking, her fingers trailing briefly along a display of old naval charts.
"The Octoknights, brave fools of the sea. Navigators, warriors, divers. They protect our waters and lead charges from the shorelines. They're the reason pirates think twice before sailing too close."
Her eyes sharpened.
"Then there are the Border Knights—vigilant as hawks. They patrol the edges of the kingdom, day and night, no matter the weather. They're the first to face threats from outside, and sometimes… they're the last."
They paused in front of a stained-glass panel showing a shining city.
"The K.P.P., the Knights of Prism Police," she said, her voice lower. "They're not just guards. They're peacekeepers. Investigators. The ones who walk the streets when the rest of us are off the battlefield. My brother Colins used to be a part of it, but after a few years he came back as Postknight here, he quickly catch up to ranks and became captain. They keep the kingdom's heart from rotting."
Razille followed silently, soaking in every word.
Cassandra finally turned and placed a hand lightly over her chest.
"And then… us. The Postknights. We're not flashy. We're not the loudest. But we're the bloodline of the realm. We carry orders, medicine, supplies, hope—through fire, through storm, through war. No matter what."
She met Razille's eyes with a rare softness.
"Never forget that, Razille. Being a Postknight may seem humble… but we hold this world together."
---
Resolution and Orders
As they reached the main rotunda, Cassandra paused. "Thank you, Razille. It's been a long time since I spoke so freely. Command has its privileges… and its cages."
Razille smiled. "I'm just doing what I was trained for."
Cassandra's expression hardened slightly. "I'll escalate this to Commander Orsic, Chief of the Grand Prism Army and head of the K.P.P. If what you've said is true—and if Colins' report aligns—then we'll need authorization to begin cleansing operations immediately."
She placed a hand on Razille's shoulder. "You've done well. Stay ready. We may be calling on you sooner than you think."
"Though I have doubts Sir Orsic will listen to me." Cassandra murmurs.