The entrance of the village was bordered with golden wheat, glowing under the soft blue light of morning. The stalks swayed like a sea of firelit gold, leaving only a narrow path, barely ten feet wide, for anyone to pass.
If the army pressed forward, they would crush every stalk under their boots, destroying the harvest.
Kiran stepped to the edge of the wheat, shoulders squared. Ren moved just behind him, with Soren and Nox following close at their backs.
Farther back, the villagers clustered near the main gate. They had sworn to fight to the death to protect their homes and children. But now, standing before the advancing army, courage drained from their bodies.
Their hands trembled around machetes, hoes, and rusted tools. Three hundred souls, men, women, elders, and boys barely past childhood,stood against eight hundred seasoned killers.
The hopelessness was suffocating. This wasn't going to be a fight. It was going to be a slaughter. The cruel smiles stretching across the soldiers' faces made that much clear.
Yet the four who stood at the front didn't flinch.
The army drew closer, its rhythm steady as a war drum. Three riders led the way, mounted on black horses, draped in cloaks of dark steel armor with capes marked by the insignia of a burning yellow flame. Behind them, rows of soldiers carried spears and banners, the same flame dancing proudly.
The symbol of Ignis.
The southern kingdom. Blitz's violent neighbor. The most bloodthirsty of the fourteen realms.
Further back, dragging chains that clinked against the earth, stumbled over a hundred children. Boys and girls, some still toddlers, others hollow-eyed teenagers. Their bare feet bled against the dirt. Every falter was punished by a soldier's lash, forcing them onward like livestock toward the slaughterhouse.
The three horsemen at the front finally came into view.
The one in the middle had black hair, black eyes, and a longsword sheathed at his side. His face was lifeless, unreadable, like the gaze of a man who had buried his soul long ago. He looked no older than thirty, only a few years beyond Kiran and Ren.
To his left rode a soldier with black hair tied in a ponytail. His eyes were wild, impatient for blood. His hand twitched toward the hilt at his side as if aching to spill lives.
To the right sat a seasoned warrior with hair streaked in grey and a face that radiated authority. None of the three wore binding rings, unlike the rest of the army.
Their auras leaked iora, heavy and oppressive, designed to bend weaker men to their knees.
But to Kirian and Ren, that aura was nothing more than the stink of killers. They knew what these men truly were. Butchers dressed as knights.
Ren's eyes drifted to the children. Each faintly shimmered with the light of Iora, even in their exhaustion. That was why they were alive. That was why Ignis had dragged them here in chains, and that was most likely why they were captured in the first place.
The riders pulled their horses to a stop. The army behind them fell silent as dust settled in the air.
Soren stepped forward, calm and princely. With slow grace, he revealed the thunderbolt pendant hanging at his chest. The grey haired rider's expression bent into a smile at the sight.
"Ahhh…" His voice was a rasp that cut through the silence. "What is a prince of Blitz doing here, so far from home?" He bowed deep from his saddle, mockingly. "Your Highness, we are truly… delighted to be in your presence." His smile was twisted, cruel.
Behind them, villagers murmured in disbelief. A prince? Whispers rippled through the crowd.
Kirian yanked at Ren's sleeve, fury flashing in his eyes. "You didn't tell me he was a prince. What the hell is going on?"
Ren only chuckled low, brushing it off, eyes fixed on the hollow man in the center.
"These lands belong to Blitz," Soren said, voice dropping low and sharp. "Why do you trespass here? Why do you burn our villages? Do you not realize what you're doing is an act of war?" His gaze hardened. "And if it's war you want, you will be crushed."
The grey haired man leaned forward in his saddle, voice just above a growl. "Two reasons, your Highness. First, we're gathering warriors. Gifted ones." His hand gestured lazily toward Nox, ignoring both Ren and Kirian as if they didn't exist. "Second, it is as you guessed. WAR."
Soren's voice trembled with restrained rage. "War? Why? You know Blitz will destroy you. Have you forgotten our military might?"
The commander's lips curved. "For too long Blitz has stood at the top of the fourteen kingdoms. It's time for Ignis to take the throne. And we'll do it as your kingdom once did, two centuries ago— with an army of superpowered soldiers. Burning villages is simply how we collect what we need and provoke Blitz." He paused, a rasping cough shaking him, then continued. "I'm sure Blitz has noticed by now. But these villages are wheat villages. Expendable. Disposable. Worthless. But if we kill one of the three princes of Blitz?" His smile returned, cold and vicious. "Then your kingdom will pay attention."
Soren staggered back a step, the weight of his words pressing down.
Kirian, unable to hold still, surged forward. His voice cracked like lightning. "So you're telling me… my village, my family, was burned to ash for this? For some meaningless war?" His hand clutched his chest as if his heart would tear itself apart. His face twisted, fighting back the sting of tears.
But the three horsemen didn't spare him a glance, though their eyes lingered momentarily on the four swords strapped across his back.
The grey haired man sneered. "Hmph. Scum."
He raised a hand. "Your Highness, I wish we had met under better circumstances. But fate has dropped you in our laps, so you must die." He signaled, and two soldiers broke from formation, charging with spears aimed at Soren. "Bring the pendant afterwards," he commanded.
They passed Kiran without a glance.
A smirk split Kiran's face.
He didn't even move from the center of their charge. He waited until they passed his shoulders, then struck.
Bang!
Both fists shot out at once. The impact was thunder. The soldiers' skulls burst like melons, blood and bone spraying across the dirt.
Thud!
Their bodies crumpled to the ground, headless and twitching.
For a heartbeat the entire field froze, friend and foe alike, staring at the carnage.
Kiran straightened, blood dripping from his knuckles. His voice cut through the silence, low and seething. "Old man, I wasn't joking. I asked you a question."
Nox froze, wide eyed at the carnage. He had only seen death dealt so instantly from the hand of Serus, but this was more brutal. Soren shared his shock. Ren barely flinched, as if this was casual.
Kiran's eyes burned as he judged them. "You steal children for your wars. You kill the ones who don't possess Iora. Where did you even get so many binding rings that your whole army has one? More importantly. How can normal humans draw power from the ring, and demonic power at that.?"
After dropping a long string of questions, Kiran looked up and cracked a devilish grin. "You don't even need to answer me. After all, none of you are leaving this place alive. So keep your secrets."
The soldier with the ponytail finally spoke, his grin sharp and wild. "We've burned twenty-six villages so far. Those without Iora were nothing. Not worth killing. But the last village…" His grin widened into something monstrous. "There was a soldier who grew a heart after burning so many villages. He tried to stop us. He was strong, so damn strong. But he refused to fight back. He wouldn't raise his blade against his allies. So I cut him down. While he died protecting a child."
Nox and Soren knew immediately who he was talking about. Lara. And the charred corpse. But it was Kiran who whispered her name. "Lara."
Nox froze. How did Kiran know Lara? Who even was Kiran, really? But the battlefield left no room for answers.
The soldier dismounted, unsheathing a three foot blade with a hiss of steel.
Ren pulled Soren and Nox closer. "Here's how it's going to go. You two are going to free the prisoners." His eyes flicked to the distant line of children. "I'll fight the army."
Soren's voice cracked. "By yourself?"
Oh, right. He didn't know exactly how strong Ren really was, Nox thought to himself.
Ren grinned, thumb pointing at his chest. "Yeah. They're not that many. And besides, they're weaklings." He gave a wink and a playful thumbs up. "Kirian will deal with the three commanders. They're a little strong, but he'll be fine."
The grey haired man dropped from his horse, sword drawn. The hollow eyed soldier remained mounted, still unmoving.
Ren looked back at his allies. "I hope you're ready?"
They answered with nods and grit.
"Let's move."
Kirian clenched his fists, eyes burning.
The grey haired commander sneered. "Aren't you going to draw even one of those swords?"
Kiran smirked. "Nah. If I did, this would be over too fast. And I want you all to die really slowly. Plus, you're weaklings."
The grey-haired man snickered. The commander with the murderous eyes smiled like a predator who had finally cornered his prey.
Then, like the spark before the firestorm, they ignited. Soren, Nox, and Ren launched themselves into the mass of soldiers, cutting through the tide.
The villagers stared in disbelief, unable to comprehend what was about to unfold.
And far away, along a forest trail where dawn still clung to the trees, a figure was moving.
Solar Stern.
His stride devoured the path, each step faster than the last, as though the earth itself bent to speed him forward. A sword hung at his waist, its hilt gleaming faintly in the half light. His eyes, once kind, now burned with a hunger only blood could quench.
The forest seemed to recoil as he passed, branches snapping under the pressure of his aura. Birds fled into the sky. Even the wind grew sharp and restless.
He was closing in on the battlefield, and with him came the weight of something darker than war.