The five outsiders knelt on the polished stone of the operations hall, the air thick with tension. Kane's crimson gaze bore into them, unflinching, sharp enough to cut through marrow. The silence was suffocating, broken only by the faint hum of tactical holo-screens flickering with maps of surrounding seas.
Finally, Kane spoke, his voice low, edged with steel.
"Scouts. Appraisers. You trespass onto my waters, spy on my island, and witness what you should not have. Tell me…" His gaze narrowed, and the aura of his Command skill tree flared, pressing down like a physical weight. "Are you spies? Tools sent by your masters? Or scavengers hoping to sell what you've seen?"
The three scouts shook where they knelt, their hands gripping the floorboards. The appraisers clenched their jaws, but their beads of sweat betrayed them.
One tried to speak. "W-We… we only—"
"Silence," Kane cut him off, his tone like a guillotine. He let the silence stretch, suffocating, a calculated cruelty. His words dropped like hammer blows."You have two choices. Bend the knee… or vanish into the sea."
For a heartbeat, it seemed as though blades of war would be drawn then and there. The outsiders' eyes darted, fear flashing. But then—unexpectedly—they all bowed their heads, foreheads pressing to the cold floor.
"No! We… we submit!" one scout stammered, his voice breaking."We are no enemies," the older appraiser added, his tone desperate but steady. "We sought only knowledge. We do not wish for blood."
Kane watched them in silence, reading every twitch, every flicker in their eyes. His ironbound legion stood motionless in the hall's corners, skeletal frames bristling with weapons, a reminder of what awaited liars.
At last, Kane smirked faintly. His aura receded like a tide. "Good. Then you've passed my little test."
The outsiders blinked in confusion, their fear still choking them.
A softer voice drifted down the staircase."Brother, are you scaring them again?"
Reina, no longer asleep, came down rubbing her eyes, carried gently by Elysia. But now she was fully awake, clutching the furry mane of her Radiant Fang pup, who padded alongside with a proud, golden glow. Behind her, Maya and Lena appeared, both flanked by their own evolutions—Emberveil's flaming tails flickered with heat, while Frostfang's icy breath steamed in the air.
The outsiders looked as though their souls were about to leap out of their bodies. These weren't mere children or ordinary women—they carried mythical beasts at their side, radiating power few safeholds could ever muster.
Kane crossed his arms, eyes still sharp, but his voice softened just slightly. "Relax. I was kidding."
The tension shattered like brittle glass, but no one dared laugh.
Now Kane's tone shifted, serious but no longer suffocating."You've seen my island. You've seen what we've built. Now, tell me… where do you come from? Which safehold sends its eyes across the sea?"
The eldest appraiser straightened slowly, his throat dry as he spoke."…We belong to the Bastion of Greywatch. One of the mainland's oldest safeholds."
At that, Kane's eyes gleamed—not with anger, but with calculation.
Greywatch. A name that meant territory, power, and ambition. Their presence here was no accident.
The appraiser's voice trembled as Kane's piercing gaze pinned him like a beast beneath a hunter's spear.
"Greywatch doesn't send scouts lightly," Kane said coldly, leaning forward on the armrest of his chair. His voice was calm, but every word carried weight like a war drum. "You don't risk men across waters just to 'look around.' Tell me—was it to ally… trade…" His tone sharpened, almost venomous. "…or steal what is mine?"
The three scouts broke into a cold sweat, shuffling uneasily. None dared to lie under that suffocating Command Aura pressing down on their shoulders.
One of the appraisers—older, wiry, his eyes sunken from years of hard survival—finally raised his head, voice hoarse but steady."Greywatch sent us… to evaluate. To measure the truth behind the rumors. They said an island fortress rose in the sea, armed with weapons not of this age. We were to learn if it could be exploited… or destroyed."
The words hung heavy in the chamber. Maya's Emberveil snarled, flames crackling in warning. Frostfang's icy fangs gleamed, while the Radiant Fang pup pressed closer to Elysia, its holy aura shimmering faintly in the tense silence.
Kane smirked—no anger, no shock. Just the slow, cold curl of someone who had already expected the truth.
"So… Greywatch wanted to know if I was prey or predator."
He stood, every step echoing with the weight of iron. His presence filled the operations hall until the outsiders could barely breathe. Then, with a snap of his fingers, the walls hummed to life as live feeds from the Vanguard and Stormbreaker flickered onto the tactical screens.
"Then watch closely. And remember what you see."
Outside, the warships adjusted in eerie unison. Cannons whirred, rotating with mechanical precision. The Javelin-class mana missile launchers angled upward like spears of the gods. Turrets locked into position.
A mark appeared on the holo-screen—a jagged mountain far along the mainland's coast, chosen deliberately for its isolation.
"Fire."
The word was a death sentence.
In the next instant, the sky itself split open.The Vanguard and Stormbreaker unleashed everything—mana-charged artillery, naval cannons roaring like thunder, and a rain of Javelin-class missiles tearing across the horizon in streaks of blazing light.
And then came the drones.Missile drones screamed upward before diving, their payloads detonating in a cascade of infernos. Scout drones descended like hawks, releasing their miniature bombs that fell in waves, each one bursting into a chain of fire and steel.
The mountain didn't stand a chance.
The explosion that followed wasn't a simple blast—it was an earthquake in the sky, a storm of flame that turned stone to molten rivers and night into day. The shockwave rattled the windows of the operations hall, and even hardened warriors like Lena and Maya narrowed their eyes at the intensity.
The five from Greywatch fell silent, their faces pale. Their jaws slack. The sheer scale of destruction was beyond anything their fortress walls or crude armaments could ever muster.
Kane turned back to them, his crimson eyes cold as the sea.
"You wanted to know whether I could be exploited. Whether Sanctuary Isle could be broken." He leaned forward, voice like steel drawn across whetstone. "Now you know the answer."
He let the silence stretch, broken only by the faint rumble of the mountain's smoldering ruin echoing in the distance.
Finally, Kane spoke again, his voice calm but absolute.
"You will deliver my message to Greywatch. I want a meeting with your leader—on my island. Not mainland, not neutral ground. Here. If your masters wish to talk, they'll do it on my terms."
The scouts exchanged nervous glances, their throats dry, but none dared speak.
Kane's gaze sharpened further, a killing edge behind his words.
"And if they even think of dirty tricks, they'll find their safehold reduced to ash before their cannons can fire a single shot."
The outsiders swallowed hard. They had seen the demonstration. They knew his words weren't a bluff.
Behind him, Reina giggled softly, still hugging her Radiant Fang pup, oblivious to the severity of her brother's war declaration. Her innocent laughter was the only sound that dared challenge the silence in the hall.
Kane smirked faintly at the contrast, then raised a hand. "Take them. Give them food, water. Then put them back on the mainland. They have their orders."
The Ironbound Legion stepped forward, skeletal frames creaking, ready to escort.
And as the outsiders were led away, the five knew one thing with bone-deep certainty.
Greywatch had poked something far worse than a fortress.
They had found a warlord.
Greywatch Stronghold sat like a fortress of iron on the mainland—stone walls laced with scavenged steel, defensive turrets standing guard over the battered city below. Inside the council chamber, the air was thick with tension as the five scouts and appraisers knelt before their leader, presenting the captured feed from Kane's island.
The footage played across a crude projection screen.
Warships gleaming with otherworldly alloys. Turrets that fired mana-charged shells like thunder. Drones swarming the skies, unleashing barrages of bombs and missiles in synchronized precision. And finally—the mountain reduced to rubble, fire and smoke curling into the heavens as if a god of war had descended.
The chamber fell silent. Even hardened generals and battle-scarred appraisers stared, pale-faced.
One man leaned forward, fingers steepled beneath his chin. Lord Varick—the Iron Regent of Greywatch. His eyes, sharp as razors, did not waver from the destruction playing before him.
"…This is no rumor," Varick said at last, his voice heavy with both awe and calculation. "The island warlord exists. And his fortress is not a myth, but a machine of annihilation."
A younger general slammed his fist onto the table. "We should never have sent scouts! This… this Kane has firepower beyond reason! If he chose to turn it against us—"
Varick raised a hand, silencing the room. His voice cut through the panic like steel."He will not. Not if we approach on his terms."
The appraiser who had spoken to Kane stepped forward, his voice still trembling. "My lord… he demands a meeting. On his island. He said… no neutral ground, no halfway point. His home, his rules."
Murmurs broke out instantly. Some called it madness, others betrayal. But Varick's lips curled into a thin smile.
"Of course he does," he said softly. "That is the right of the predator. To dictate terms."
He stood, cloak sweeping behind him, and fixed the room with a gaze like iron fire.
"We accept. Diplomacy, on his island. If this Kane wanted to destroy us, he already could have. Instead, he shows us a hand—not of peace, but of dominance. We must respect it."
The generals exchanged uneasy glances, but none dared oppose their lord.
Then, one voice whispered from the corner. "…My lord, there's something else. The records from the Blood Moon event…"
The words froze the chamber.
Varick turned slowly. "Speak."
The appraiser's throat bobbed. "The top place holder… the one who led the world in kills, the one who shattered the records… was the Sanctuary Isle safe zone."
Every head turned back to the screen.
The footage replayed in their minds—warships unleashing hell, drones blotting the skies, skeletal legions marching like shadows.
Realization dawned like ice water down their spines.
They hadn't stumbled upon some unknown warlord.
They had poked the hornet's nest.
And the man sitting at its center wasn't just strong—he was the apex predator of the Blood Moon.
Lord Varick chuckled darkly, the sound echoing across the chamber like distant thunder.
"Then it seems Greywatch has two choices," he said, voice low, eyes gleaming. "Bend knee… or burn."
The council fell silent, the weight of the truth pressing down on them.
And though none spoke it aloud, every single one of them knew—Greywatch's survival depended not on their walls, their armies, or their steel.
It depended on the whim of the warlord across the sea.