"Charge!"
Lucas's voice thundered across the field, sharp and commanding. Seventy thousand imperial soldiers surged forward, their armor gleaming beneath the burning sun. The earth trembled beneath their march, a tidal wave of steel and fury crashing toward the Beast Kingdom.
At the front, Lucas led like a blazing comet, cloak billowing, blade drawn.
Beside him, Mark called out, "What's the plan?"
Lucas glanced back with a grin, eyes glowing like fire.
"No plan. Just charge."
The Beast Kingdom's army rose to meet them—more than twenty thousand strong, snarling and roaring as they rallied before the castle gates. But the Empire didn't flinch.
Lucas was the first to strike.
He leapt from his horse like a falling star, crashing into the front lines with explosive force. Each swing of his blade sent shockwaves through beastmen ranks—limbs severed, blood spraying, bodies hurled back like ragdolls.
He fought with purpose and rage, every movement crisp and deadly, cutting a path through the chaos like a force of nature.
Behind him, Arman and Herald stormed forward, flanking the middle lines. The warriors of Sancara roared, their momentum unstoppable.
At the gates of the Beast Kingdom's castle, Arman dismounted, cracking his knuckles. Dozens of beastmen tried to block his path.
But it's useless.
"External Art – 80% Output: Colossal Punch."
His fist struck the main gate with the force of a god. The wood and steel exploded inward, the surrounding stone walls spiderwebbed and crumbled.
"The gate's been breached!" came the cry.
"CHARGE!" Lucas bellowed again, sword raised.
Thousands of imperial troops flooded through the opening, splitting into two groups—one to finish the remaining battlefield, the other to storm the castle.
Inside waited ten thousand more defenders, but their resistance meant nothing.
The Empire carved through them. Blade met claw, blood splattered walls, and the air thickened with smoke and screams. The floors of the great hall turned crimson.
Then—
A tremor shook the entire structure.
The imperial forces paused. A shockwave rippled through the stone beneath their feet, and a pulse of unimaginable pressure erupted from above—like the air itself had screamed.
Lucas froze. He turned his gaze toward the upper chambers.
He felt it.
That wasn't a normal attack. It was something deeper. Colder. Older.
"Isla…"
For the first time in years, Lucas witnessed his brother's power—the kind of power no one else in the Empire possessed. Excluding himself of course.
He clenched his jaw, his blood burning with awe and unease.
"He's finally serious," Herald muttered beside him, gripping his blade tighter.
Without waiting, Lucas raced up the stairs, leading a small squad behind him. The castle trembled again.
.