The royal capital Astreon shimmered faintly under the morning sun, its marble towers and domes glinting with cold light. A grand carriage bearing the crest of the Ephor Dukedom rolled through the massive gates of the city, escorted by royal knights. After journeying for nearly an hour, Duke Noah Rockson finally arrived before the royal palace — Mephis, the seat of power of the Clover Kingdom.
The palace stood as a monument of arrogance and ambition. Massive golden spires pierced the sky, each one carved with the sigils of past kings, while banners of crimson and black fluttered above the grand staircase. Inside, in the throne hall of Mephis, King Augustus Nova sat alone upon his gilded throne — his expression cold, yet restless.
For a long time, the king remained silent, lost in thought. His mind wandered back to the words of Pope Lucius Seraphael of the Holy Empire of Arcania — "The Warherald has awakened, and he is from your kingdom, Clover. The one fated to bring change is none other than Roman Crowell."
The king's grip on the armrest tightened.
Roman Crowell — the youngest son of Duke Jacob Crowell.
The very family he had treated with disdain and humiliation for years.
He remembered how he had cut ties with the Crowells, slashing their funding, demanding heavy labor quotas, and starving their land of royal support. He had done it out of jealousy — jealousy that Duke Jacob was loved by the people more than he ever would be. Years ago, the people had even whispered that Jacob should have been king instead of him.
That memory still burned in Augustus's heart like acid.
Even his late father, King Richard Nova, had once personally met with Jacob and offered him the title of Duke to quell public support for him ensuring the crown would remain with Augustus. Yet, now history threatened to repeat itself.
He slammed his fist on the throne's armrest, the sound echoing through the empty hall.
"Not again," he growled. "I will not let another Crowell steal my kingdom's heart."
He glanced down at the reports in his hand — reports detailing Roman Crowell's actions in Presia: single-handedly defeating monsters, saving civilians, and rising as a beacon of hope among the masses. Even the church had begun whispering his name alongside that of the Warherald prophecy.
King Augustus's lips curled into a cruel smile.
"So… you are the Warherald, Roman Crowell? Then you shall be my weapon. My puppet. My glory."
A sudden announcement broke his thoughts.
"Your Majesty, the Duke of Ephor, Lord Noah Rockson, has arrived to seek audience."
"Let him in," Augustus commanded coldly.
The massive doors opened, and Duke Noah Rockson entered — tall, proud, dressed in a robe of royal violet. He bowed deeply.
"I greet the righteous ruler of Clover, my king. I come to seek a favor from Your Majesty."
King Augustus leaned forward with a smirk.
"Noah Rockson… it's been long since we last met. I trust your dukedom stands firm? Your merchants are safe?"
"Yes, my king," Noah replied with an elegant bow. "But there is one matter that brings me grave concern — a matter that stains the honor of Ephor itself."
The king raised a brow. "Speak then. What favor do you seek?"
"My king," Noah said with venom in his tone, "I beg you to crush the Presia Dukedom. They dared to bare their fangs toward me, to commit fraud by taking one hundred and fifty thousand valon coins from my coffers — under false pretenses that it was to support their starving citizens. They've even twisted and manipulated the royal laws that you yourself decreed!"
"By force?" The king's voice sharpened. "You the strongest duke in my kingdom — were forced?"
"It's that brat nephew of mine," Noah spat, his eyes flaring. "Roman Crowell — my sister's youngest son. He dares to challenge me, to undermine my authority!"
At the mention of Roman's name, the king froze for a heartbeat. Then slowly, realization dawned in his eyes — the same name, the same bloodline that had been whispered in the prophecy.
"This is… troubling," Augustus muttered. "The boy is dangerous. More dangerous than you imagine."
Noah blinked in confusion. "Your Majesty?"
The king leaned back with a sly grin. "Do not worry, Noah. I will personally look into this matter. For now, you shall stay here in the palace as my guest. We will feast tonight — and discuss how to break the Crowells."
Noah bowed deeply, hiding his smirk. "As you command, my king."
He thought to himself, Presia will soon kneel before me. Roman, you will regret ever standing against your uncle.
But the duke had no idea that his own downfall had already begun.
Meanwhile, far from the capital — in the Presia Dukedom — the night air hummed with tension. Torches flickered across the sprawling training grounds, where Roman Crowell stood among his knights and mages, watching them prepare for the covert operation into Ephor territory.
He looked over the faces of his chosen men — hardened warriors, sharp-eyed assassins, and the brilliant young mage, Jeremiah Nara, whose control over spatial magic bordered on the impossible.
"Jeremiah," Roman said, his voice calm yet commanding, "you will be responsible for opening the spatial gates for our infiltration units. The success of this mission depends on you."
Jeremiah bowed deeply. "I will not fail you, young master."
Roman nodded approvingly. "Good. To all of you remember this: bring glory to the name of Presia Dukedom. Let Ephor tremble before our will."
Jeremiah raised his staff and chanted under his breath. In an instant, swirling portals of pure magic tore open across the training field vast, shimmering gates connecting directly to the marked coordinates deep within Ephor. One by one, the knights and mages stepped through, disappearing into the violet light.
From a distance, Duke Jacob Crowell and Butler Adam watched the operation unfold.
Jacob's eyes gleamed with restrained pride. "That boy… Jeremiah Nara… he's special. Normally, a spatial mage needs to visit a location to open a portal. Yet, he can do it merely by looking at a map. That is magic beyond comprehension."
Adam nodded. "Indeed, my lord. But I heard it was young master Roman himself who taught him this method — this unique way of spatial casting."
Jacob smiled faintly. "Then Roman is becoming something far beyond what this kingdom has ever seen. A monster of talent — and will."
He turned to his butler. "Tell me, Adam. Do you believe this covert operation will succeed?"
Adam hesitated, then replied, "To be honest, my lord… my mind says it's too risky. But my heart says it will be a great success. And if it does then the glory of Presia will once again rise, brighter than ever before."
As the last of the soldiers vanished through the portals, Roman stood alone, his cloak fluttering in the night wind. His eyes were calm but beneath them burned a storm.
In Ephor Dukedom, chaos was about to be born.
The covert units waited, their blades drawn, their magic ready all awaiting a single signal from Roman Crowell to ignite the fire that would change the kingdom forever.