Stepping into the vast, resplendent hall, Duke Baron tilted his head upward, his gaze fixed on the enormous, floating crystal hanging above.
Not far overhead, a gigantic prismatic crystal, over ten meters tall, rotated slowly and steadily, casting a brilliant, shimmering glow that bathed the entire hall in an aura of unparalleled grandeur and majesty. But Duke Baron felt none of that awe. In his youth, he too had marveled at this magnificent feat of engineering. Now, however, as age and experience had weighed upon him, his perspective had shifted. The confidence, passion, and recklessness of his younger days had long faded, replaced by a profound sense of humanity's frailty and powerlessness. Human strength was not omnipotent—in truth, there was so little they could do, far less than they dared to imagine. But was it truly wise to wield such power so recklessly, a power that had never belonged solely to humanity?
Of course, these were just the ramblings of an old man.
Duke Baron shook his head slightly, dismissing the absurd thought.
Just then, a hearty voice rang out from behind him.
"Long time no see, Baron."
At the sound, Duke Baron raised an eyebrow, then turned to face the source of the voice. Two figures were approaching him—none other than the other two commanders of the Wester Kingdom's three great combat legions.
Leading the way was an elderly man clad in heavy plate armor, his name was Celt Sars. He was the commander of the *Shield of the Guardian* Legion. Though he was already sixty-five years old, his sturdy frame showed not the slightest hint of frailty. A relaxed, cheerful smile played on his lips as he waved a hand in greeting to Baron. Close behind him strode a middle-aged man in pitch-black armor—Ash, the commander of the *Fang of Darkness* Legion. Unlike Celt, this man wore a perpetually somber expression, his entire demeanor reminiscent of a wolf poised to strike at any moment. His yellow eyes, in particular, sent a chill down one's spine. When he spotted Baron, however, the grim-faced middle-aged man cracked a faint smile and nodded in acknowledgment.
"I never thought I'd see *both* of you summoned back here," Duke Baron muttered, a slight frown creasing his brow as he recognized the two men. His own legion, the *Pale Falcon*, was tasked with guarding the royal capital. Celt's *Shield of the Guardian* defended the kingdom's border fortresses and strategic strongholds. Ash's *Fang of Darkness*, on the other hand, specialized in rooting out and eliminating threats within the kingdom's borders. Though all three bore heavy responsibilities, their duties rarely brought them together. They might meet once a year at most. Baron himself rarely left the capital, but the other two were even more elusive—they only showed their faces in the city when something truly momentous had occurred.
And now, both of them were back in the royal capital. Could it be that…
A shadow of unease crossed Duke Baron's face.
"We only came back because we were ordered to," Celt replied, clapping Baron heartily on the shoulder as he drew near.
"Word has it the Byrd family made a fool of you? That's not like you at all."
The Byrd family had been thoroughly disgraced by the fiasco in Duskwood, but the Pale Falcon Legion had not fared much better. While the failure was not entirely their fault, it was undeniably embarrassing for the legion's commander to lead a mission personally only to end up with such a laughable outcome. To make matters worse, the Pale Falcon was a royalist legion, with a long-standing rivalry against the regional noble armies. Naturally, some nobles had seized the opportunity to sneer and mock them behind their backs—though they dared not utter a word to the legionnaires' faces. When it came to sheer combat power, the regional garrisons were no match for the Pale Falcon.
"Just a run of bad luck. Nothing to be ashamed of," Duke Baron replied with a bitter smile, addressing his old comrade-in-arms. And in truth, that was exactly how he felt.
"The enemy was too strong, and they had the element of surprise. I never stood a chance."
"Oh?"
Celt blinked in surprise, and even Ash, who had been standing silently beside them, raised an eyebrow in astonishment. They had known Baron for decades and were well aware of his character—he was a man who never exaggerated, never spoke without reason. If he said he had no chance, then it must have been the truth. But…
"I heard you were sent to help the Byrds wipe out some bandits?" Celt asked, eyeing his old friend with confusion. Bandits should hardly have posed such a challenge.
"I was. But by the time we arrived, we didn't find a single bandit—they'd all been wiped out by a group of mysterious figures."
"Mysterious figures?"
Celt's brow furrowed.
"They were *that* strong?"
He paid little heed to the true identity of these "mysterious figures." What mattered more was Baron's assessment of them. To be stronger than Baron *and* to have the element of surprise—was that really enough to leave him completely helpless? Celt knew full well that Baron had not led the Pale Falcon's elite troops on this mission, only reservists. But even so, they had been under the command of one of the kingdom's top three legion commanders. How could they have been outmaneuvered so thoroughly?
"That's right," Duke Baron nodded calmly in response to his friend's question, then proceeded to explain.
"Strictly speaking, we arrived at the bandits' lair no more than a day later than they did. But we couldn't catch the slightest trace of them. Even when we followed their tracks, we always ended up empty-handed. Their mobility and combat prowess were far beyond my expectations. What's more, I found no bodies other than the bandits' on the battlefield. I picked up the pace in the end, trying my best to catch up—but they clearly detected our presence. I'm ashamed to admit it, but they led me astray with a decoy, making me misjudge their direction. That gave them plenty of time to finish their mission and slip away long before we realized our mistake."
Celt and Ash exchanged grave looks as they listened. They both knew that the mistakes Baron had described were the most basic, elementary errors. Such blunders were common enough for junior officers—but for a seasoned commander of their caliber? It was unthinkable. To make a seasoned veteran like Baron stumble repeatedly with such simple tricks spoke volumes about the skill of their opponents.
"You chased them at full speed?" Ash suddenly spoke up, his voice breaking the silence. He had remained quiet until now.
"I did. I pushed my men to their absolute limit—but we still couldn't lay a finger on them. The only thing we could confirm was their numbers: no more than twenty. Ash, to be honest, I think you're the only one who might have a chance of catching them."
"But you said you found no bodies of their men—and no signs that they buried any of their dead?"
The *Fang of Darkness* was a special operations unit. For this reason, Ash's reaction was far more intense than Celt's—or even Baron's, who had experienced it firsthand. His thin, gaunt face darkened as he frowned deeply.
"None. I can swear to it."
"So… they completed their mission with zero casualties. Either their wounds were so minor they didn't slow them down… or there might have been mages among them?"
Mages were renowned for their ability to deal massive damage in large-scale battles—second to none. If the mysterious figures had been in a hurry to finish their mission, they would surely have deployed mages to speed things up. After all, a single powerful spell was far more efficient than hand-to-hand combat.
Duke Baron shook his head.
"I don't think there were any mages among them. There were absolutely no traces of magic being used on the battlefield. If they *had* had mages, they would have been even faster."
Ash fell silent, his expression growing even more somber. After a long pause, he lifted his head, a chilling, predatory grin spreading across his face.
"Perhaps I ought to look into this myself."
"If you find anything, don't forget to share the news with us," Celt said.
Baron and Celt exchanged a glance, saying nothing more. It was clear that Ash had developed a keen interest in these mysterious figures. To evade Baron's full pursuit and vanish without a single casualty—this was not something ordinary mercenaries, soldiers, or even regular armies could accomplish. As the leader of a special operations unit, Ash was naturally intrigued. If possible, he hoped to uncover their true identities and recruit them into his legion. If they turned out to be agents of a foreign power, however, it was crucial to find out as soon as possible. That was the only way to ensure the kingdom's security.
Just then, a deep, resonant bell tolled through the hall. The three commanders exchanged a final look, then turned and strode into the inner chamber.
A palpable tension hung in the air inside the Wester Royal Palace's throne room. King Wester V sat on his throne at the center, his face pale with a hint of anxiety. At the arrival of the three commanders, the murmur of voices among the assembled nobles fell silent at once. All eyes turned to the three men, their expressions a mixture of excitement and unease. For everyone present—Baron included—was a core member of the kingdom's elite. They all knew that the gathering of the three great legion commanders could only mean one thing: something momentous was about to happen.
"Now that everyone is here," King Wester V said, a faint smile touching his lips as he saw the three commanders enter. He cleared his throat lightly, then spoke in a solemn tone.
"I think we can get down to business… I'm sure you all understand that I have summoned you here today because the situation is extremely urgent…"
He paused for a moment, allowing his words to sink in, before continuing in a grave voice that sent a shockwave through the hall.
"According to reliable intelligence, the Sith Empire launched an invasion of the Kingdom of Orlut six days ago!"
The words hung in the air—and chaos erupted.
"Sith? *The* Sith Empire?!"
"Orlut has been invaded?!"
For a moment, the throne room dissolved into a hubbub of shocked exclamations. Nobles turned to each other, their eyes wide with disbelief, confusion, and mounting fear. The Kingdom of Orlut was not only Wester's neighbor—it was also their closest ally. And now, Orlut had been invaded. By the Sith Empire, no less!
"According to our latest reports, three days ago, the Sith Empire captured the Wind Highlands and large swathes of territory along the Jewel River in Orlut," King Wester V went on, his voice heavy with undisguised anxiety.
"Furthermore, intelligence confirms that the invasion is being led by two of the Sith Empire's *Four Scourge Generals*—the *Windbringer* Karan and the *Puppeteer* Sidvi! Orlut's elite legions have been completely defeated and are on the verge of collapse. Yesterday, they dispatched envoys to our kingdom, begging for military aid!"
As the king's words echoed through the hall, the nobles froze for a heartbeat—then erupted into an uproar.