The northern winds carried the taste of iron.
Snow fell in slow spirals, settling over the ranks of Kael's marching army. Banners of black and gold rippled through the white, their edges glowing faintly with divine resonance.
Kael rode at the head, his cloak dragging trails of frost behind his horse. Every step of the legion echoed with discipline—measured, unified, absolute.
Commander Serin rode beside him, visor down, voice steady.
"Scouts report rebel movement ahead. Lord Maelric commands their vanguard."
Kael's gaze lifted toward the horizon where frozen cliffs rose from mist.
"Then the north remembers how to kneel," he said quietly.
The soldiers heard him. None spoke, but their pace quickened.
The March of Faith
As they crossed the final ridge, a sharp chime sounded within Kael's mind.
[New Function: Power Index Analysis]
[Detected Hostile Forces — Scanning...]
[Enemy Average Power: Knight Rank – Mid Tier]
[Allied Commanders: Commander Rank – High Tier]
[Host: Imperial Rank – Initial Stage]
So this was how the Empire measured strength—faith converted into divinity, loyalty distilled into power.
Every soldier, every believer, was a fragment of his throne.
"The weak measure power by steel," Kael murmured. "The Empire measures it by faith."
The Frozen Gorge
The gorge opened before them—a vast wound of stone and ice. Rebel banners fluttered along the cliffs: blue wolves of Frostreach. At their center stood Lord Maelric, once a vassal of Kael's court, now clad in mismatched armor and arrogance.
The rebel shouted across the wind:
"You return from the grave to chase ghosts, false Emperor! The north bends to no corpse!"
Serin stepped forward, his voice calm but resonant.
"You stand before the true sovereign of Veyrion. Lower your banner, Maelric, and live."
Laughter echoed from the cliffs. Then came the horns—low and guttural. Rebels surged from both sides, blades raised.
Kael raised one hand.
[Command Issued: Faith Surge]
[All Loyal Subjects — +15% Morale / +10% Power Output]
A golden shockwave rippled through the ranks. The Imperial banners ignited with light, and the snow at their feet turned molten white.
"Advance," Kael said.
The earth trembled under synchronized steps.
The Clash
Serin led the vanguard, his sword glowing pale silver as he cut through the front lines.
Each swing of his blade sent arcs of energy through the snow—Archlord Rank, the system whispered.
Rebel knights crashed against Imperial shields, but their weapons grew heavier, their footing unsteady. Kael's divine aura pressed down like a storm.
He watched without emotion, reading the system's pulse as if viewing the world through numbers and loyalty alone.
[Enemy Morale: 42% → 17%]
[Allied Formation Integrity: 98%]
"Commander," Kael said, his tone level even amid chaos, "no unnecessary slaughter. The north must serve, not vanish."
Serin saluted mid-strike. "As you decree, Majesty."
The Imperial ranks shifted—precision over rage, control over chaos. Each move was an act of worship.
The Emperor's Step
When the rebels broke formation, Maelric charged through the gap, roaring defiance. His sword burned blue with frost mana as he leapt toward Kael's horse.
"You're no emperor—just a phantom clinging to dust!"
Kael dismounted slowly, drawing his blade for the first time. The steel was black, mirror-smooth, humming faintly with divine static.
The world seemed to hold its breath.
"Kneel."
The word carried through the gorge like a bell tolling the end of an age.
Light burst from Kael's blade, silent but absolute. The frost magic shattered midair, and Maelric collapsed to his knees, breath frozen in his chest.
[Rebel Lord Detected — Lord Rank – Low Tier]
[Result: Loyalty Assimilation Possible]
Kael stepped closer, eyes unreadable.
"You built rebellion upon fear," he said. "I build faith from loyalty. One endures."
He touched Maelric's helm with two fingers. Light spread from the contact, devouring the man's frost aura.
[Loyalty Conversion: 72% Success]
[Subject: Lord Maelric — Bound to the Empire]
[Empire Power: 9.8% → 14.2%]
[Empire Tier Advanced: Restored Empire]
[New Function: Faith Resonance Network Unlocked]
The wind shifted. Snow fell softly again, but the ground beneath them shimmered faintly gold.
Kael sheathed his blade.
"Collect the fallen," he ordered. "Ours and theirs. They are all Imperial now."
Aftermath
That night, the army camped among the ruins of Maelric's fort. The soldiers spoke in hushed tones, their faith renewed.
For the first time, Kael allowed himself to look up at the northern stars.
The Empire System hummed quietly.
[Empire Condition: Stable]
[Next Objective: Subjugate Frostreach Fortress]
[Warning: Hostile Entity Detected – Divine Signature Identified]
Kael's expression didn't change, but his fingers tightened around his gauntlet.
"So," he whispered, "even the gods have chosen sides."
Epilogue — The Duke of Frost
Far to the north, deep within the fortress carved of blue ice, Duke Valen of Frostreach sat upon a throne of frozen crystal.
Before him, a messenger knelt, trembling.
"Your Grace… Lord Maelric has fallen. The Emperor—he lives."
The Duke tilted his chalice, watching the liquid freeze midair.
"Then the dead march beneath banners once more," he said softly.
His eyes burned with faint azure light — divine shards pulsing beneath the skin.
"Let him come," Valen murmured. "I will show him that loyalty shatters before divinity."
The ice cracked beneath his throne as a storm began to gather outside.