Dorian had lost his armies. He had lost fleets. He had lost the illusion of invincibility that had sustained the Thaluria Empire for generations. But he still had one thing left: the palace and his dignity as the emperor.
The Thaluria imperial palace isn't just stone and gold. It's a labyrinth of layered wards built over centuries: suppression fields, mana-eating seals, dimensional anchors, and soul-binding sigils carved so deeply into the foundation that even the air remembered them. No sorcerer had ever dared to fully test them. No enemy had ever reached the throne room alive.
Dorian straightened. "She walks freely because she believes she has already won," he said. "That arrogance will kill her."
