The province of Valmere had always existed in the shadow of the Western Compact.
Wedged between Calderin lands and the fractured eastern marches, Valmere was fertile, populous, and deeply unequal. Its nobility had grown wealthy exporting grain and iron through Compact controlled routes while its towns endured conscription quotas and punitive tolls. For generations, resentment simmered quietly, contained by fear and tradition. When the Empire collapsed, that containment vanished.
At first, Valmere followed the Capitol's example.
District councils formed in its largest cities. Assemblies met in barns and marketplaces. Nobles were invited to attend, though few did. Authority began to shift away from hereditary titles toward elected voices. For a brief moment, it appeared Valmere would mirror the Capitol Republic with local variation.
Then the grain stores burned.
No one ever proved who set the first fire, but everyone knew who was blamed. Lord Aric Halden, whose estates controlled nearly half the province's food reserves, fled his manor under guard as crowds gathered outside its gates. When he issued a proclamation condemning the unrest and calling for Compact intervention, the response was immediate and irreversible.
The councils convened in emergency session and did not adjourn for three days.
By the end of the third night, Valmere declared itself a People's Republic.
The declaration went far beyond anything spoken in the Capitol. It named nobility not as obsolete, but as criminal. Titles were abolished. Lands were seized and redistributed under council authority. Noble estates were occupied, not looted, their records preserved as evidence rather than spoils. Any noble who resisted was arrested. Any who fled was declared forfeit. Three were executed after summary tribunals that prioritized speed over appeal.
The executions were public.
That was the point.
The crowds did not cheer wildly. They watched in silence as centuries of inherited authority ended on scaffold platforms built from dismantled manor gates. The act was not celebration. It was release.
Within a week, every noble family in Valmere was either imprisoned, exiled, or dead.
The Western Compact reacted with fury.
Lord Calderin convened his council at once, slamming his fist against the table hard enough to rattle ink pots. "This is contagion," he declared. "If it spreads, our houses will follow."
Lady Elowen's voice was cold. "Valmere controls key eastern routes. If they close them, we lose leverage."
Halric Vayne leaned back, eyes narrowed. "And if we intervene openly, we prove every accusation they have made about us."
They argued deep into the night, but the truth was unavoidable. Valmere had done what the Capitol Republic refused to do. It had not reformed the system. It had destroyed it.
The People's Republic of Valmere announced its principles without hesitation. No hereditary office. No private control of essential resources. All officials subject to recall. Justice administered by rotating citizen panels. Militias formed from local assemblies rather than standing forces. It was uncompromising. It was volatile. And it was fiercely popular among those who had lived beneath noble authority.
In the Capitol, the reaction was deeply divided.
Some praised Valmere as the logical conclusion of liberation. Others recoiled at the executions, fearing the precedent. Republic delegates debated fiercely, ultimately issuing a cautious statement condemning violence while recognizing Valmere's sovereignty.
It satisfied no one completely.
Serenya watched the arguments unfold with growing concern. "They have crossed a line we refused to," she said quietly to Alena. "Whether that makes them stronger or more fragile remains to be seen."
Far from both capitals, Kaelen read the reports in silence.
Rina broke it first. "They have done what you would not."
Kaelen nodded. "And what I could not."
"Will you condemn them," Jarek asked. "Or protect them."
Kaelen looked toward the east, toward a province burning with conviction and blood. "I will not endorse executions. I will not shield nobles from consequence either. Valmere has chosen its path. I will defend them from external invasion. Nothing more."
The Seeker within him was troubled, not by the fall of nobility, but by the certainty with which violence had been embraced as purification. This was the danger of liberation without restraint. Freedom, once tasted, could sharpen into zeal.
The Western Compact began mobilizing troops along Valmere's border within days, framing it as a humanitarian intervention. They spoke of restoring order. Of protecting innocent lives. Of preventing extremism.
Valmere responded by fortifying crossings and issuing a stark warning.
No banners will cross our land uninvited.
The realm held its breath.
Between the moderate Republic of the Capitol, the radical fire of Valmere, the calculating patience of the Western Compact, and Kaelen standing deliberately between all of them, the shape of the final conflict became unmistakable.
The Empire was gone.
What replaced it was no longer a single vision.
It was a struggle over how far freedom could go before it devoured itself.
The realm stood poised on the edge of its most dangerous question yet.