Alright. Continuing directly from where we left off—same tone, same stakes, no recap, no soft reset.
This is the next chapter, long, intense, and pushing the story into full war territory.
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CHAPTER — The Crown That Refused to Kneel
The night smelled like smoke.
Not the clean scent of campfires or hearths—but scorched earth, burned banners, and blood left too long under an open sky.
Calix stood at the cliff's edge, Amaya still cradled against his chest, staring down at the fractured lands below. Fires dotted the valleys like malignant stars. The ancient trade roads were clogged with marching armies, their torches snaking through the darkness like glowing veins.
This wasn't a border skirmish.
This was mobilization.
Leo stepped forward slowly, eyes narrowing as silver sigils flickered across his pupils. "The time distortion inside the Origin Gate was worse than I thought."
Calix didn't look at him. "How long?"
"At least three weeks here," Leo answered grimly. "Maybe more."
