His face showed no joy—only the weight of sadness...
But he knew what he had done wasn't out of hatred—
But for a kingdom not built for tyranny.
In a dark subterranean room, candles slowly melted on the ancient stone walls, releasing the scents of incense and ash. King Julius sat on a simple wooden chair—unbecoming of a king—but he looked as comfortable as if he were sitting on a golden throne.
Before him stood the mysterious sorceress, cloaked in a purple cloak, her eyes sharp as a blade. She stared at him silently before whispering, "Why are you doing all this, Julius? Tell me—what is your true plan?" The king smiled confidently and raised a wine glass to his lips before answering, "The plan? Quite simple, Catelyn... to bleed the Iron Kingdom's army and stir up discontent among its people." He stepped forward and added, "Once their king falls, they will look for a savior... a just ruler. And I will be that king. I will unite the two kingdoms—and rule the entire continent." Catelyn didn't look surprised. She narrowed her eyes and asked, "What about your army? I sent them to slaughter. Only a few remain."
Julius laughed lightly. "My real army hasn't even entered the fray yet. There's a reserve force, trained in secret, waiting for my signal."
He then raised a finger and tapped his head. "The first game? It was just a sacrifice. Like any skilled player, I sacrificed a few pieces to secure victory later."
He paused for a moment, then muttered, staring into the flames, "Old people are like children, Catelyn... You can win them over with a silly game. The problem is, most of them don't even know they're playing one."
Two days later, the news reached the Kingdom of Neval like a bolt from the blue.
The Iron Kingdom had fallen.
But it hadn't fallen to its enemies. It had been seized by a new king who had taken the throne in a coup. No one knew his name or face, but his name began to be whispered in the streets: "The Mysterious King."
Julius sat in his chair, reading the letter in trembling handwriting, a faintly sly smile on his face.
This was unexpected, but he showed no sign of distress. Instead, he stood up immediately, went to his desk, and took out a new piece of paper.
He wrote firmly:
"To the new king of the Iron Kingdom...
I invite you to an honorable confrontation to decide the fate of the continent.
If you win, you will take land from the Kingdom of Neval, known for its fertility and ancient treasures.
If you lose, trade between the two kingdoms will be opened."
Julius folded the letter and handed it to the witch Catelyn, saying, "If the new king accepts the offer, place the seal mark on his new army.
It is imperative that you deliver this message yourself, and the Silent Shadow will accompany you."
The witch entered the Iron Kingdom with quiet, steady steps, but her eyes watched everything around her. The streets were filled with soldiers and citizens, and as she passed among them, everyone looked at her with deep admiration, captivated by her captivating beauty and bewitching presence.
But inwardly, she saw no admiration in their eyes—only sharpened swords stabbing her silently. Their stares, to her, were more veiled threats than praise. Doubt wrapped a cold cloak around her heart. She asked herself, "Do they see me as they saw me at the Academy of Magic?" Just a tool, nothing more..."
She reached the gate of the royal palace, and the doors opened for her without question. Inside, the atmosphere was heavy, and the walls seemed to tell a history written in blood and iron.
In the throne room, a solitary figure sat on a throne, wearing a deep black robe and a hood that covered his entire face. He barely moved, as if he had been expecting her.
The witch Catelyn stepped forward quietly and handed him the letter. The king took it, read it quickly, and then said in a calm tone:
"Very well, I accept this offer."
His face remained hidden, but his voice carried confidence and hidden intentions.
He nodded to the palace servants and said:
"Take her to the training ground. Let her place the seal on the army."
She bowed and sealed the beginning of a new turn.