The carriage wheels slowed with a gradual grinding of iron against stone as they crossed the final stretch of fortified ground, and soon enough the entire procession came to a controlled halt before the inner perimeter of the military command camp, a place that did not merely resemble authority but embodied it in every detail of its existence.

The towering structure ahead was more like fortress than castle as it rose in layered stone and reinforced battlements, its architecture built not for beauty but for endurance, its walls thick with purpose and history, while the surrounding grounds pulsed with constant movement as armored soldiers marched in disciplined formations, the sharp clashing of steel against steel echoing through the air as recruits drilled relentlessly under the watchful eyes of seasoned veterans, their voices barking commands that carried the weight of a kingdom under strain, and even the wind itself seemed to carry the tension of war, heavy with the scent of metal, sweat, and something far more intangible anticipation.

Guards patrolled every visible inch of the perimeter in precise rotations, their steps synchronized with trained instinct rather than conscious effort, each pair scanning the surroundings with sharpened vigilance, yet as the carriage approached, no alarm was raised, no obstruction made, because word had already reached ahead of them.. Obiously the presence of a Great Saint had ensured that the usual procedures of scrutiny and delay were discarded entirely, replaced instead with immediate compliance, and so the gates opened without resistance as allowing the carriage to pass through with a quiet authority that did not need to be announced.

The escorting city watch guards gradually slowed their advance once inside, their formation loosening slightly as the responsibility shifted from external protection to internal protocol, some remaining stationed at the entrance while others continued forward on horseback, guiding the carriage deeper into the command grounds until finally, at a designated point near the central structure, the horses came to a complete stop, their breaths visible in the cool air as they stamped lightly against the stone, restless yet controlled.

Aveline stepped down first, her movements precise yet carrying a subtle stiffness that had not left her since the moment she realized the true nature of the individual she was escorting, and as her boots touched the ground, she immediately turned with composed respect, her gaze lifting toward the carriage as she extended a silent gesture of invitation, though beneath that calm exterior her mind remained alert, calculating every possible outcome of what was about to unfold, because this was no longer a simple escort.. it had become an encounter between powers that could reshape the very structure she served.

One by one, Maria, Sofia, Nancy, and finally Razeal stepped out, their presence immediately altering the atmosphere in a way that was not loud or dramatic but undeniably perceptible, as though the space itself had adjusted to accommodate them, and as their feet met the stone ground, their eyes moved almost in unison, taking in the surroundings with varying degrees of curiosity, analysis, and quiet indifference, while the soldiers nearby, though trained to maintain composure, could not entirely suppress the subtle shifts in their posture, the brief flickers of attention that betrayed their awareness of something... unusual.

Razeal, however, did not react outwardly.. As his gaze moved once across the environment, absorbing the structure, the formations, the hierarchy embedded within the arrangement of forces, and then settled forward, calm and unreadable, as though none of this held any immediate significance to him, yet beneath that stillness his mind registered everything the density of troops, the discipline level, the readiness state each detail filed away with quiet precision.

Ahead, preparations had clearly been made.

A small assembly stood waiting, positioned with deliberate order. Soldiers and attendants formed a respectful distance, leaving space at the forefront where two figures stood distinctly apart from the rest. It did not take long for Razeal to guess who might they be. Their presence alone made it obvious they were not ordinary nobles, nor mere officials. 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦

The first was an old man, tall and broad despite his age, clad in thick, battle-worn armor that seemed less like attire and more like an extension of his very being. It carried marks of countless conflicts, each scratch and dent a silent testament to battles survived. His bald head reflected the dim light faintly, while a heavy, thick beard deep green in color framed his stern face, giving him an almost primal appearance. His eyes, sharp and unwavering, were of the same deep green, holding a weight that spoke of command, authority, and an unyielding will. This was Lord Kael Draven, head of the Draven family, one of the six members of the Iron Council, and more importantly, the Lord Marshal.. the man who commanded all armies of Denvaar Kingdom. His aura was not concealed in the slightest. It radiated outward like a wild beast unchained, fierce and proud, pressing down on the surroundings with the force of a dominant predator. There was no subtlety to him. He did not need it.

Beside him stood a woman who, in every way, was his opposite.

She appeared to be in her late twenties, her figure slender and poised, her presence calm yet deeply unsettling upon closer observation. Her complexion was smooth and pale, almost porcelain-like, contrasting sharply with the dark, elegant one-piece dress she wore. It flowed naturally along her form, accentuating her quiet grace, while the black gloves on her hands added an extra layer of refinement and distance. In one hand, she held a dark umbrella, shielding herself lightly from the sun, though it felt less like necessity and more like a deliberate choice lf fashion and a subtle statement of control. Her long, black hair cascaded down her back in smooth strands, reaching far below, moving gently with the faint breeze.

Her face carried a soft, composed expression, almost gentle at first glance but her eyes betrayed something else entirely. There was depth in them. Calculation. A quiet, hidden sharpness that suggested layers beneath layers, truths concealed beneath carefully crafted appearances. She was Lady Veyra Sol, head of the Veyra family. As also a core member of the Iron Council, and a figure known not for brute force, but for influence for manipulation. If Kael was a tiger, open and overwhelming, then she was a poisonous snake silent, precise, and a very deadly one.. in a ways far less obvious.

Both of them were Peak Rank Great-Saints.

Both of them stood there, watching.

They had been informed well in advance of what had occurred the sudden appearance of an unknown Great Saint in the middle of the Capital city, the confrontation with guards, the subsequent escort and while neither of them had reacted outwardly at the time, internally the implications had already begun to unfold, because in a period of war, the arrival of an unaccounted power was never a neutral event.. it was either an opportunity.. a Help... or just a threat.

There were many guards surrounding the area, forming a wide, disciplined perimeter around the arrival point, their presence firm and alert, every movement controlled, every gaze sharp and watchful. Yet despite their numbers and readiness, there was a noticeable restraint in how they positioned themselves none dared to step too close. They maintained a deliberate distance, a silent but clear order given by the two figures at the forefront, Lord Kael Draven and Lady Veyra Sol. It was not hesitation, nor lack of courage, but understanding. At this level, strength dictated reality, and every soldier present knew that no matter how skilled or well-trained they were, against a Great Saint, they would amount to nothing more than cannon fodder. It was not an insult to their abilities it was simply the truth of the world they lived in. Still, that did not mean fear gripped them. The guards stood firm, disciplined as ever, because the information they had received carried its own reassurance.

The unknown Great Saint they were expecting... was said to have only recently broken through to that rank.

A newly ascended powerhouse.

In contrast, both Kael and Veyra stood at the very peak of that realm.

The difference between early and peak stages at the Great Saint level was not minor it was absolute. The gap was like earth and sky, a distance so vast that even a single stage could determine the outcome of a battle in an instant. And here, there were not one but three stages of difference. Either of them alone could suppress such a gap effortlessly, crush it without sustaining even the slightest injury. And this was not arrogance it was experience, knowledge carved through countless confrontations and refined over years of power. Not to mention, both of them wielded seventh-rank peak magic weapons, artifacts that further amplified their already overwhelming strength. If it came to conflict, it would not be a struggle. It would be decisive. Quick and Clean. The presence of both of them together was not necessity it was caution, a calculated precaution in uncertain times.

Originally, only one of them had been present in the military camp. But the moment information arrived of an unknown Great Saint appearing within the empire’s territory without prior notice Kael had not hesitated. He had immediately summoned Lady Veyra. Ofcourse not out of fear, but out of prudence. War was already stretching the empire’s stability thin. The unexpected appearance of a high-level powerhouse in such a time could not be taken lightly.

And so, they hadwaited.

And now there eyes followed as one by one, the individuals approaching them.

As Aveline stepped aside after offering her respectful bow, her role complete for now and finally her eyes subtly shifting toward Razeal as if confirming and signaling them that he was indeed the individual in question, and with that small, almost imperceptible gesture, the attention of both Kael and Veyra sharpened fully, their focus settling not on the group as a whole, but on the figure at its center.

Razeal.

At first glance, there was nothing extraordinary about him no visible aura, no outward display of power, nothing that aligned with the expectations one would have of a Great Saint and that alone was enough to cause a faint narrowing of Kael’s eyes, his instincts immediately flagging the inconsistency, because even the most controlled individuals at that rank carried a residual presence, a pressure that could be felt if not seen, yet here there was... nothing, an absence so complete it became noticeable in itself, forcing him to consider possibilities beyond the obvious.. concealment techniques existed, yes, artifacts capable of masking aura were not unheard of, but to suppress it entirely, to the point where even he could not sense the slightest trace, was not something easily achieved, especially not by someone newly ascended, and so the thought lingered not spoken, but present that either the information they had received was flawed... or this individual was not as simple as he appeared.

Veyra, standing beside him, mirrored that observation in her own way, though where Kael’s scrutiny was direct and forceful, hers was quiet, layered, her gaze resting on Razeal just long enough to register every visible detail before shifting away as if disinterested, only to return moments later from a different angle, her mind assembling impressions not from what was obvious, but from what was missing, what did not align, what remained unsaid, and though her expression remained composed, almost gentle, there was a subtle tightening in her posture, a sign that her curiosity had been engaged.

And then, almost in the same breath, both of their attentions shifted away from Razeal alone and moved toward the group standing around him, their gazes sweeping with quiet precision, sharp and practiced, missing nothing. Their eyes settled first on Maria, then Sofia, and finally Nancy lingering just a fraction longer than necessary, as if confirming something they already suspected. It took no more than a single glance for recognition to settle in. Well... not entirely. Sofia still remained an unknown variable to them as her presence noted but not identified, a piece of the arrangement that did not yet fit into any known structure. But the other two... there was no mistake.

They had seen them before.

Years ago.

At a grand imperial celebration hosted by the Empress herself an event where only the most prominent bloodlines and influential figures of the empire and kingdoms understand it were invited. Faces like theirs were not easily forgotten, not when they belonged to families that stood at the very pillars of power.

Maria.

The heiress of the Grave family.

A pillar family of the empire, one whose influence ran deep into both political and military structures. Her presence alone carried weight, even without her title being spoken.

And Nancy Dragonwevr.

Daughter of the Dragonwevr ducal house.

The moment her identity was confirmed, something shifted subtle, yet undeniable.

Their expressions changed.

Not outwardly enough for the surrounding soldiers to notice, not in any dramatic or exaggerated manner, but internally, the shift was immediate and absolute. The calm, measured caution they had been maintaining until now sharpened into something far more serious. Their focus tightened. Their thoughts accelerated.

Tension began to seep in.

Slowly and Quietly... Like a pressure building beneath the surface.

Yes, they had already taken the situation seriously the sudden appearance of an unknown Great Saint within their empire, especially during wartime, was not something to dismiss lightly. It warranted caution, preparation, and direct oversight. But even then, it had remained within manageable bounds. A situation to be handled. Controlled.

This..

This was different.

Because now, it was no longer just about an unknown powerhouse.

It was about her.

Nancy Dragonwevr also..

Even without everything else, even without the context of war or the presence of a Great Saint, her mere appearance within their territory would have been enough to raise alarms. Not because she herself was a threat but because of what she represented.

Her bloodline.

Her family.

And above all

Her mother.

Arabella.

The so-called "crazy duchess."

Even among the highest nobility, even among those who wielded immense power and influence, that name carried a certain weight a kind that was not easily described, but deeply understood. Unpredictable. Volatile. Dangerous in ways that went beyond simple strength. To mishandle anything related to her... especially her daughter... was to invite consequences that no rational individual would willingly face.

And yet, that was not even the worst of it.

Because they knew. As they had already received the reports.

Nancy Dragonwevr had been missing for last two months.

The entire empire had been searching.. quietly at first, then with increasing urgency as time passed without results. Scouts, informants, covert operatives but still none had been able to find a single trace of her whereabouts.

And now

Here she was.

Standing in front of them.

In their empire.

Kael’s gaze hardened slightly as it passed over her appearance, his sharp eyes taking in every detail with practiced efficiency. Her clothes were damaged.. ripped in multiple places, worn down, marked by prolonged use and clear signs of battle. This was not the attire of someone who had been safe, or sheltered. This was someone who had been through conflict. Repeatedly.

Even if

There were no visible injuries.

No scars. Her body appeared whole, healed completely.

But that did not lessen the severity of what it implied.

If anything, it made it worse.

Tch... this is troublesome, Kael thought, his jaw tightening just slightly, though his outward expression remained controlled. Very troublesome.

Veyra, beside him, reached her conclusions just as quickly, though her reaction manifested differently. Her expression remained soft, composed, almost untouched but her eyes... her eyes had changed. The depth within them sharpened, calculations unfolding rapidly behind that calm surface.

It was bad.

Not just inconvenient.

Not just unexpected.

Bad.

Because of what it could mean.

Because of how it could be interpreted.

If the empire were to learn that Nancy Dragonwevr had been present within their territory during her disappearance worn, battle-marked, clearly having endured something significant it would not matter whether they had just found her or had no involvement at all.

Doubt would arise.

Suspicion.

Accusations.

And in the fragile state the empire was already in, with war stretching resources and stability thin... even a small misunderstanding could escalate into something far more dangerous.

We cannot allow that, Veyra concluded calmly.

This situation required precision.

Control.

Immediate action.

At the very least, the empire had to be informed quickly, clearly, and without room for misinterpretation. And until that happened...

She had to be protected. Handled with absolute care. And given proper hospitality.

Not just as a guest.. But as someone whose safety now directly impacted political balance.

And beyond the risk...

There was opportunity.

A chance to earn favor.

To position themselves positively with the Dragonwevr family.

A powerful house.

One not easily approached, let alone indebted.

Kael’s thoughts aligned, though more bluntly. We secure her. Inform the empire. Make sure nothing goes wrong. His eyes flicked briefly toward Veyra.

She met his gaze.

For a brief moment, the two of them exchanged nothing more than that single look.

No words.

None were needed.

Understanding passed instantly between them.

This is no longer just about the Great Saint.

This has become political.

And with that in hand they both took step as approached them from there own side.

The moment the two lords stepped forward, the shift in priority became unmistakably clear, not through any overt declaration but through the natural direction of their attention, as both Kael Draven and Lady Veyra allowed their gazes to settle first not on Razeal but on Nancy and Maria, with a particular, unmistakable weight placed upon Nancy, whose presence, under these circumstances, carried consequences far beyond simple recognition their expressions, though controlled, reflected the seriousness of her identity, and in that instant, the hierarchy of concern revealed itself without a single word needing to be spoken.

Kael inclined his head slightly, not a bow but a gesture of acknowledgment befitting someone of high standing addressing another of comparable importance, his voice firm yet measured as he spoke, "Lady Maria... Lady Nancy... your presence here is... unexpected," his words carefully chosen, neither welcoming nor confrontational, but carrying an undertone of scrutiny that lingered just beneath the surface, while Veyra, standing beside him, offered a softer inclination of her head, her expression composed into a faint, courteous smile that masked the sharp calculations unfolding behind her eyes.

Razeal and Sofia, for that brief moment, were almost entirely sidelined not ignored in the sense of disrespect, but clearly not the primary focus of the exchange and though both lords did not allow that imbalance to become overtly discourteous, the prioritization was evident enough to be felt after all, from their perspective, the presence of two high-ranking nobles of the Empire, one of whom was currently considered missing, far outweighed the unknown identity of a young Great Saint whose background remained unclear.

Behind them, the second carriage came to a halt, its arrival drawing a subtle shift of attention as Yograj stepped out first, followed by Levy and Aurora, their movements steady as they approached, guided loosely by Yograj’s lead, his gaze sweeping once across the gathered forces before settling on the unfolding interaction ahead, his expression unreadable yet clearly attentive, as though measuring not just the people present but the direction in which this encounter was beginning to move.

Nancy, standing slightly behind Razeal, felt the weight of the attention directed toward her, and for perhaps the first time since arriving here, a faint hesitation crept into her posture, her fingers curling subtly at her side as she glanced, almost instinctively, toward Razeal, seeking some form of silent reassurance or direction, because despite her lineage, despite the authority her name carried, she was still navigating unfamiliar ground, and more importantly, she knew at least partially what Razeal intended, and the thought of it, even now, sat uneasily within her, for the idea of taking over an entire kingdom was not merely bold it was something that bordered on reckless, and she could not yet determine whether it was brilliance... or madness.

That single glance did not go unnoticed.

Both Kael and Veyra saw it.

And in that moment, something subtle yet significant shifted in their understanding, as the pieces aligned in a way that was far more telling than any introduction could have been, because if Nancy Dragonwevr daughter of Arabella was instinctively looking toward this young man before responding, then whatever his identity might be, his position within this group was not trivial even Maria’s composed demeanor, her quiet alignment beside him, reinforced the same conclusion.

It was clear that.. He was the center.

The axis around which the others moved.

And so, almost simultaneously, both lords redirected their attention fully, their gazes settling on Razeal with renewed focus, no longer as an afterthought but as the primary subject of evaluation.

Kael stepped forward first, his presence firm and grounded, his voice carrying the authority of command as he spoke, "Lord Kael Draven, Head of House Draven and Lord Marshal of Denvaar," introducing himself without embellishment, while Veyra followed with a slight, graceful motion, her voice softer yet equally deliberate, "Lady Veyra Sol, Head of House Veyra," her eyes resting on Razeal with a faint, unreadable curve to her lips, as though she were already analyzing far more than what was visible.

Razeal met their introductions with equal calm, offering his name without hesitation or display, "Razeal," nothing more, nothing less, his tone steady, neither deferential nor arrogant, simply stating what was necessary and leaving the rest unspoken.

Without wasting time, Kael moved directly to the matter at hand, his expression sharpening as he spoke, "You arrived unannounced... engaged with city watch... and now stand within our command grounds," his gaze steady, unwavering, "we have also received word that you possess information regarding the entity responsible for the ongoing attacks on this kingdom," his tone deepening slightly, "that information is of highest priority.. so please speak."

The air seemed to still for a moment.

Razeal nodded once, acknowledging the question without resistance, "I do have information," he said, his voice calm, measured, "very serious information," and for a brief second, there was a flicker of anticipation in the surrounding presence, because if what he claimed was true, it could change everything.

"...but I cannot provide it," his words landed with quiet weight, "not unless my conditions are fulfilled first."

Silence followed.

Behind him, his team shifted subtly not outwardly reacting, but the awareness was there, immediate and shared, as Yograj let out the faintest exhale through his nose, Maria’s gaze dropped momentarily to the side, and Sofia remained still, her expression unreadable, while Nancy’s hesitation deepened slightly, because they all understood what those "conditions" likely were, and none of them believed it would be received well.

And they were right.

Kael’s expression hardened, not with anger, but with a sharpened edge of caution, while Veyra’s smile thinned almost imperceptibly, her eyes flickering with interest rather than offense, as though she were more intrigued by the audacity than displeased by it.. As obiously it was known that no one do anything for free not to say such big thing but his straightforwardly asking it was very unexpected.

"What conditions?" Kael asked directly, his tone controlled but firm, giving nothing away yet demanding clarity.

Razeal glanced briefly around, his gaze passing over the surrounding soldiers, the open environment, the listening ears, before he shook his head slightly, "This isn’t the place for that discussion," he stated plainly, before continuing without pause, "assemble the Iron Council... and I also want to meet the ruler of this kingdom alo," his eyes returned to Kael, steady, unwavering, "As I have proposals and deals that should concern all of you."

That was the moment the atmosphere changed.

Not dramatically but decisively.

Both Kael and Veyra’s expressions shifted, their composure tightening as suspicion rose sharply, because while a request for a private discussion was reasonable, even expected.. but what followed was not calling for a full Iron Council assembly and requesting direct audience with the ruler, all from an unknown entity whose identity remained unverified, in the middle of an ongoing war, was not merely bold it was unacceptable under normal circumstances.

Kael did not hesitate.

"That is not possible," he replied immediately, his tone firm, leaving no room for ambiguity, "you are an unknown Great Saint with no established allegiance, no verification of intent, and you request direct access to the highest authority of this kingdom," his gaze hardened slightly, "under current conditions, that cannot be allowed."

It was a reasonable response.

A logical one.

But Razeal simply shook his head.

"But i still want it," he said, as if the refusal held no weight.

And just like that

The tension snapped tighter.

Kael’s eyes narrowed, his patience thinning as his aura began to rise, not explosively, but steadily, deliberately, as the pressure of his presence expanded outward, the ground beneath seeming to grow heavier under its influence, directed squarely at Razeal, a clear assertion of dominance, of authority, of warning.

"What are your intentions?" Kael asked, his voice dropping slightly as the weight of his power pressed forward.

Razeal did not move not even a flinch.

"I have no harmful intentions toward this kingdom," he replied calmly, his tone unchanged despite the oppressive force directed at him, "If I did had I would not be standing here speaking to you." His gaze remained steady. "I came with a proper approach see..? I did not force my way in." his gaze met Kael’s directly, "I just want it to go easy if not i had other ways to do things.."

But the words did not land as intended.

Instead

They sounded very provoking.

"Ohh... so you’re saying you could have done it the other way? What way exactly? Tell me about it.." Kael’s voice carried a sharp edge now, no longer restrained beneath formal composure, the words laced with a heat that came naturally to him. "Those are some big words... from someone who has just stepped into the early stage of a Great Saint." There was no attempt to soften it, no effort to disguise the underlying challenge. As Lord Marshal, as a man who had spent decades standing at the peak of power and command, such implications did not sit well with him they struck his pride, and more importantly, they tested his authority in his own domain. The moment those words left his mouth, his aura surged outward fully, no longer contained or measured. It crashed into the surroundings like a released beast, heavy and overwhelming, pressing down directly toward Razeal with suffocating force. The air grew dense, soldiers in the vicinity instinctively stiffening under the pressure, some lowering their gazes, others tightening their grip on their weapons without even realizing it. It was not just intimidation it was dominance made tangible.

And yet

Razeal still stood unmoved.

"Look.. I want no trouble," Razeal said, his voice even, unhurried, carrying none of the tension that filled the space around them. "How about we handle this... the civilized way."

It was a suggestion.

Simple and Reasonable.

But in that moment, under that pressure, it sounded almost like a refusal to submit.

Kael’s eyes narrowed further, the faintest crease forming between his brows as his focus sharpened completely onto Razeal. Not affected at all...? The thought flickered through his mind, brief but noticeable. Either he’s hiding it well... or there’s something off here.

"Oh?" Kael responded, his tone dropping lower, more dangerous now, the challenge clear. "And what if I don’t?"

He leaned forward ever so slightly, his presence intensifying further as if testing, pushing, waiting for even the smallest crack to appear.

But before the moment could escalate any further

Suddenly

"SCREEEEETH~"

A sound tore through the air.

Sharp Violent and very Unnatural.

The sound of space itself teering.

Every head turned.

Kael’s words stopped mid-sentence.

The aura he had released faltered not weakened, but interrupted as his attention snapping away from Razeal toward the source of that sound with immediate instinct.

Because just a short distance away

Space itself distorted.

It twisted unnaturally, as if something invisible had grabbed hold of it and begun to tear it apart. The air shimmered, warped, and then

A crack appeared.

Thin at first. Jagged.

Unstable.

And then it widened.

Slowly at first, then rapidly, stretching open into a small rift, its edges flickering violently with dark, erratic energy. It hovered there, suspended in the open space within the castle grounds, not far from where they stood close enough to feel, close enough to understand that this was not something distant, not something contained.

This was here.

Inside their territory.

Inside their command.

A sudden, unexpected breach.

It was not that rare of fenomina as rifts and portals open suddenly in any place.. but still inside the caste was first time.. and he did not like it.

The atmosphere shifted instantly.

The tension between Kael and Razeal vanished not resolved, not forgotten, but completely overridden by something far more immediate.

The soldiers reacted first, their training kicking in as they turned toward the rift, formations instinctively adjusting, weapons drawn, eyes locked onto the anomaly. Confusion flickered among them, but discipline held them steady.

Kael’s expression hardened sharply, all traces of earlier irritation gone, replaced by focused alertness. A spatial breach...? Here? His mind moved quickly, analyzing, assessing. This was not coincidence. Not timing like this.

——