The sky over Everwood was clear that morning — impossibly calm, as though the world itself was holding its breath.
Yet beneath that peace, tension simmered like magma beneath a fragile crust.
Inside the grand hall, Itsuki sat at the head of the long wooden table. Around him stood Lyra, Elara, Selena, Lunaria, and several high-ranking officers of the village — representatives of elves, dwarves, beastkin, and humans who now called Everwood home.
Before them, sealed in wax and crimson ribbon, lay a message — the imperial crest of the Human Empire burned into its surface.
No one spoke as Itsuki broke the seal.
He unfolded the parchment slowly, scanning the ornate script.
Every word dripped with arrogance and threat.
"By decree of His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Varian of the Human Empire,
the territory known as Everwood is hereby demanded to submit under imperial rule.
Refusal will be considered an act of rebellion against humanity and punished accordingly."
A heavy silence filled the hall.
Selena clenched her fists. "How dare they! After all we've done to bring peace—"
Elara slammed her palm against the table, her sword clattering at her side. "They send threats instead of thanks? Those cowards hide behind armies while we built this land with our own hands!"
Itsuki didn't respond immediately. He simply stared at the letter, his gaze unreadable.
Lyra watched him carefully — she could sense the storm behind his calm.
Finally, he set the parchment down and stood.
His voice was quiet but carried the weight of command.
"Everwood was not built to kneel before anyone."
The room stilled.
"When I came to this world," he continued, "I swore that no one under my care would suffer again. The Empire sees strength and wants to claim it — but we will show them what true strength is."
Lunaria, the beastkin princess, stepped forward, her tail flicking with determination.
"Then we stand with you, Itsuki. The Beastkin Kingdom owes Everwood its respect and loyalty."
Lyra nodded, placing her hand on her chest. "The elves too. Everwood gave us a home when we had none. We'll defend it — no matter the cost."
The dwarven representatives pounded their fists on the table in unison. "Aye! The forges are ready, Lord Itsuki. Just give the word!"
A small smile touched his lips, though his eyes remained serious.
"Good. But this won't be a battle of pride — it will be a battle of necessity. We fight only if forced to. Until then, we prepare."
He turned to the large window overlooking the city. From this height, he could see the life he had built — children playing in the streets, merchants laughing in the market, elves and humans working side by side.
A vision worth protecting.
"Lyra," he said softly, "begin evacuation drills for civilians. If war comes, I don't want a single innocent caught in the fire."
She bowed slightly. "Understood."
"Elara, train the guards and special forces. Selena, manage supplies and trade routes. Lunaria — reach out to your father's scouts. We need eyes on every border."
Each of them nodded firmly, ready to move.
Itsuki turned to the massive world map pinned on the far wall.
He placed a small wooden marker over Everwood — a simple token compared to the massive expanse labeled "Human Empire."
A single spark against a sea of darkness.
He whispered to himself, almost inaudibly:
"If it's war they want… then I'll show them what creation truly means."
That night, the halls of Everwood glowed with light as preparations began.
Weapons were checked, defenses reinforced, and messages dispatched to allies.
But deep beneath the city — far below where anyone else could see — Itsuki entered a sealed metal chamber.
The air shimmered faintly with energy.
Within stood rows of dormant machines — towering turrets, steel-plated drones, and beneath a thick layer of stone, a massive, sealed vault humming with power.
Itsuki placed his hand on the vault door. The Codex of Creation floated beside him, its pages glowing faintly.
"I swore never to use this," he murmured. "But if the world insists on repeating its mistakes… I'll end the cycle myself."
The vault responded to his touch, pulsing with light as the locks disengaged one by one.
Inside, blue-white energy danced like lightning across a sleek metallic sphere — a prototype weapon he had begun long ago, but never finished.
He stared at it in silence.
"Project Judgment," he whispered. "Let's hope I'll never have to use you."
As he turned away, Lyra's voice echoed faintly in his mind — her words from long ago.
"You make people want to follow you… not because of your power, but because of your heart."
He exhaled deeply, stepping into the shadows.
"Then I'll protect them… with everything I have."
Outside, thunder rumbled — distant, ominous, and heavy with promise.
The storm of war had begun to gather.
And Everwood… was ready.