The chilling final images transmitted by the message hawk lingered in the air long after the projection had ended, as if the horror itself refused to leave the room. The small construct, having poured every ounce of its magic into delivering the message, fluttered weakly before collapsing onto the council table, its faint glow extinguishing. What remained in its place was silence, thick, suffocating, and heavy with the weight of what had just been witnessed.
King Drago stood motionless at the head of the chamber, his gaze fixed on the spot where the projection had faded. For a brief moment, he said nothing. Then, without warning, the room shook.
"So much useless death… FOR WHAT!!!"
His voice thundered through the chamber like a physical force, cracking the ancient stone walls and sending a ripple of fear through everyone present. Council members flinched instinctively, some stepping back, others lowering their heads. Even the Vanguard, those who rarely showed fear, tensed at the sheer intensity of his anger. It wasn't just rage. It was grief. Frustration. Responsibility.
The silence that followed was fragile.
It was broken by a single voice.
"King Drago… perhaps we should not dwell too deeply on this matter," said Regis McKay, a noble seated among the council. He cleared his throat, attempting to sound composed. "The loss is unfortunate, yes... but we must consider perspective. The deaths of those from lesser standing, such as the Terraformer and the Shadowbliss girl… while regrettable, are not as significant as the loss of two GoldenAge members. Their lineage alone... "
He didn't get to finish.
The temperature in the room spiked instantly.
King Drago didn't move, but his aura did. It ignited.
A faint glow at first, then a blazing force that radiated from him like a furnace. The air warped, the ground beneath his feet cracking slightly under the pressure. Regis's clothes began to smolder, thin wisps of smoke rising as the heat intensified.
The nobleman's composure shattered.
"Y-Your Majesty—!" he gasped, falling from his chair to his knees, clawing at his collar as the heat burned against his skin. "Mercy! pleaseee!"
King Drago finally turned his head.
His eyes burned.
"If we were not facing a crisis," he said coldly, his voice quieter now but far more dangerous, "you would not exist to speak again."
Regis collapsed fully to the ground, coughing violently as the heat suddenly vanished. The King's aura withdrew just as quickly as it had appeared, leaving behind a suffocating stillness.
"Remember this moment," Drago continued. "The next time you decide to speak on the value of life."
Regis didn't respond. He couldn't. He simply lay there, gasping, his throat scorched, his pride shattered, but his mind already turning with quiet resentment.
'This king and his obsession with commoners. I will make sure THEY hear about this.' Regis thought this as he slowly pulled himself up to his seat.
Across the room, Kane stood rigid, his expression carefully neutral. But beneath that calm exterior, his thoughts churned. His nails dug into his palm hard enough to draw blood, the sting grounding him as irritation simmered beneath the surface.
'Why does he waste power on them?' Kane thought bitterly. 'He rules everything… and yet he bends for those beneath us.'
Servious stepped forward slightly, breaking the silence. Though his voice remained controlled, the subtle shift in his tone betrayed the impact of what they had just seen.
"My lord… what are your orders?" he asked, his mechanical breathing filling the quiet space between words.
King Drago exhaled slowly, his anger giving way to something heavier, something more calculating.
"This is moving faster than we anticipated," he said. "Far faster."
He turned, pacing slowly as he gathered his thoughts. "To think it has already reached this stage… We underestimated it."
Servious nodded. "This was only one site. We must assume the others are experiencing similar changes."
Drago stopped.
"Then we cannot wait," he said firmly. There was hesitation in his next words, something rare for a man of his stature.
"Prepare everything. We have no choice." He looked directly at Servious now. "…Is this the right path?"
The question hung in the air.
Servious paused, clearly taken aback by the directness. But he answered without hesitation.
"My lord, if we delay… more will die. This is no longer a matter of choice. It is necessity."
Drago closed his eyes briefly, then nodded. "I agree."
He turned toward Kane.
"Inform Warmaster Serena. We're initiating Plan B."
Kane's lips curled into a faint smile. "Right away, my King."
He bowed deeply, though the glint in his eyes betrayed something far darker.
—
Meanwhile, back in the plaza, the atmosphere could not have been more different.
Haru and Sylvie stepped into the vast test grounds, both momentarily stunned by the sheer scale of it. Towering walls surrounded the arena, their height almost unnatural, while guards stood at every entry point, carefully checking each participant's scroll before allowing them through.
"…This is huge," Haru muttered.
Sylvie nodded slowly, scanning the area. "Bigger than usual…"
The grounds were packed.
Hundreds of participants, easily around seven hundred, filled the space, many of them clearly not from Mordell. Their attire, accents, and equipment varied wildly, hinting at origins from different kingdoms.
The energy in the air was electric.
Excitement. Nerves. Competition.
Some participants showed off their weapons, others tested their abilities, while a few simply stood quietly, observing.
Haru glanced around. "Feels like a festival… but way more intense."
"It usually is," Sylvie replied. "…But something's off."
She glanced upward. Haru followed her gaze. Above them, in an elevated viewing section, nearly all the Vanguard had gathered.
"…That's not normal," Sylvie said quietly. "Usually only half of them show up. The rest don't bother."
Haru frowned. "So why are they all here?"
Sylvie didn't answer because she didn't know. Their thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice.
"Well, if it isn't the witch bitch and the peasant."
Haru sighed. "…Of course."
Gram approached, flanked by his usual group, his expression as smug as ever.
"Stay the hell out of the way," he sneered. "Wouldn't want you getting crushed before the Initiation even starts."
Before Haru could respond, another voice cut through.
"You should mind your manners when speaking to a lady."
The shift in tone was immediate, making Gram turn sharply.
Standing behind him was a tall, muscular man with dark skin and a commanding presence that silenced the immediate area.
"…And you are?" Gram snapped.
The man didn't even acknowledge him. Instead, he turned to Sylvie.
"I see you've noticed it too," he said calmly.
Sylvie blinked, then nodded. "Yeah… something's off."
He gave a small nod. "Good. Then I'm not the only one."
He extended his hand. "Prince Ban. Algoro Kingdom." His voice carrying a strong accent.
Sylvie shook it. "Sylvie. And this idiot is Haru."
"Hey!" Haru started, then sighed in defeat. "Yeah, that tracks."
Ban laughed lightly as he shook Haru's hand. "Pleasure."
Haru tilted his head. "So… noticed what exactly?"
Before Ban could answer, trumpets rang out loud and commanding, causing the entire plaza to fall silent. Every head turned, anticipation for the Initiation that was about to begin. But beneath the excitement, something far more dangerous was already in motion.