In the Royal Palace of the Ember Kingdom

  Prince Asser remembered.

  He was a child again, in his chamber.

  Playing with his sister Sara.

  Princess Kasra sat nearby, crying softly in her mother's arms.

  King Caesar sat by the fire, reading ancient scrolls.

  Then—footsteps.

  A knock.

  "Your Majesty!

  An urgent matter!"

  Caesar looked up, stood.

  "What is it?"

  "It's the Luminous Tree village...

  They're calling for aid."

  Caesar moved swiftly, exiting the chamber.

  Sara and Kasra watched him go.

  "Father?

  Where are you going?" Sara asked.

  Caesar smiled gently.

  "I'll be back soon.

  Just heading somewhere nearby."

  "We'll wait for you!

  I told Uncle Qadir to make a big cake for us to share!

  Right, Mother?"

  The queen smiled, voice soft.

  "Yes... of course."

  Caesar nodded, his smile faint.

  Asser watched him, puzzled.

  —

  Moments later, Caesar returned—clad in armor, sword at his side.

  The queen's face shifted.

  "My love... is everything alright?"

  Sara and Kasra looked on, worried.

  "It's nothing.

  The Tree village needs help.

  I'll go myself.

  I'll be back soon."

  "Be careful..." the queen whispered.

  Sara and Kasra waved.

  "Promise you'll come back!" Kasra said.

  "I'll save you some cake," Sara added.

  "From greedy Kasra!"

  "Hey! I'm not greedy!"

  "Protect your mother while I'm gone," Caesar said.

  "Don't worry, Father!

  I'll throw flaming cake at anyone who tries anything!" Kasra declared.

  "I won't let her throw cake!" Sara protested.

  The queen covered her mouth, laughing softly.

  Caesar smiled at them all—and turned to leave.

  —

  Asser followed him.

  They reached the castle gates.

  "Father..."

  Caesar paused.

  "Asser? What is it?"

  "Why are you going yourself?

  Why not send the army?

  Maybe Faisal or Faris could handle it..."

  Caesar looked at his son.

  His voice was quiet.

  "Because sometimes...

  a king must walk the path himself.

  Not to command from afar—

  but to stand where others fall.

  To remind them...

  that we are not just rulers.

  We are guardians."

  He placed a hand on Asser's shoulder.

  The Flame of Aurik — When Legacy Becomes Action

  King Caesar's voice echoed in Asser's memory:

  "You must understand...

  A king does not simply sit upon a throne.

  He leads armies.

  He leads his people to victory.

  He is the pride and banner of the realm.

  My departure is a message—

  To any who dare threaten us or our allies."

  Young Asser had looked up at him, eyes wide and innocent.

  Caesar smiled.

  "You must become a blazing fire—

  For those who seek harm...

  And for those who seek shelter and warmth.

  You are responsible for both."

  A guard stepped forward.

  "Your Majesty... everything is ready."

  Caesar stood, placed a firm hand on Asser's head.

  "Continue your training.

  I expect a duel when I return."

  Then he turned—

  —

  Back in the present, Asser felt a warm hand in his own.

  He opened his eyes.

  "Kasra?"

  "Are you alright?"

  He glanced around.

  Everyone was watching him.

  "Ahem... I'm fine."

  Jabir cleared his throat.

  "Right.

  Back to the plan.

  It's either brilliant or terrible—so let's find out."

  Sylvanas smirked.

  Laika rolled her eyes.

  "Just finish."

  "Finish? Are you mad?" Jabir muttered.

  Kasra laughed.

  Asser turned to Jabir.

  "Go on."

  "We send someone we trust.

  A mercenary—cheap, discreet.

  If the rumors are true, they'll return with good news.

  Then we send an official envoy.

  Maybe even find someone who can heal the princess...

  Or at least gather research to aid the Mage Guild.

  What do you think, Laika?"

  Laika sighed.

  "I hate to say it...

  But he's right."

  "You're cruel," Jabir muttered.

  "It's settled," Asser said.

  Sylvanas looked down.

  "Truthfully...

  I wanted to go myself.

  My people are suffering.

  After everything..."

  Jabir placed a hand on her shoulder.

  "Don't worry.

  If the news is promising,

  I'll ask Prince Asser to include you in the envoy."

  Asser nodded.

  "I respect that, General."

  Sylvanas straightened.

  "I have a candidate.

  A young mage—eager and capable.

  From the mercenary Guild."

  Jabir blinked.

  "A girl from Lenovard?"

  Sylvanas nodded.

  "Yes."

  Asser's eyes widened.

  "Lenovard?

  She survived?"

  Jabir nodded.

  "She came from the ruins.

  She fights to survive.

  Seeks work.

  Seeks purpose."

  Asser's voice softened.

  "That's tragic...

  But I'm proud.

  She sees Aurik as a refuge.

  That's what my father wanted."

  Asser saying it slowly...

  "You must become a blazing fire—

  For those who seek harm...

  And for those who seek shelter and warmth.

  You are responsible for both."

  Jabir smiled.

  "So? What do you say?"

  Kasra placed her hand in Asser's.

  He nodded.

  "She has my blessing, General.

  Just make sure she's safe.

  Give her maps, guidance—whatever she needs."

  "Of course," Sylvanas said.

  "Jabir and I will prepare everything."

  "Good," Asser said.

  —

  Outside, the wind howled softly.

  Snow began to fall again.

  The towers of Aurik burned bright—

  a kingdom quiet, but never cold.

  Prince Asser continued, nibbling on a piece of cake.

  "Leona... any news?"

  Jabir shook his head.

  "Nothing yet."

  Laika frowned.

  "I'm growing uneasy.

  Something feels... off.

  Like things are slipping beyond control."

  Sylvanas leaned forward.

  "Shall we send scouts?"

  Asser shook his head.

  "No.

  I want you to prepare the army, General.

  Intensive training.

  If things worsen...

  we may need to intervene."

  Laika's eyes widened.

  "Your Highness...

  Are you considering military action?"

  Asser wiped his mouth with a cloth.

  "Perhaps.

  I'm weighing all options.

  Leona is vital to us.

  The only kingdom still standing—officially—on the map.

  Leonithra is gone."

  Jabir's expression darkened.

  Asser continued.

  "The Luminous Tree...

  Lenovard...

  Leona is all that remains.

  Our last ally in these times."

  Kasra looked at him.

  "I believe we'll find a way to end this."

  Asser nodded.

  Jabir cleared his throat.

  "I'd like to speak about Leonithra."

  "What of it?" Asser asked.

  "Wasn't it destroyed?"

  "It was.

  But there are pirates...

  Survivors.

  Resisting the invaders as we speak.

  I believe they could become valuable allies."

  Laika's face shifted.

  "Pirates?"

  Sylvanas raised an eyebrow.

  "Trusting pirates is a gamble...

  But I trust Jabir."

  Kasra glanced at her brother.

  Asser met Jabir's gaze.

  "Very well.

  If there's a way to contact them...

  Tell them Aurik is open to talks, agreements—perhaps even alliance.

  You're in charge, you arrogant merchant.

  My father trusted you.

  So will I."

  Jabir sighed, eyes closed.

  "The weight of responsibility grows heavier by the day...

  Gods, I'm tired."

  Laika stood.

  "Come on, you lazy fool.

  We've got final edits to finish.

  I need to discuss some adjustments."

  She turned to Asser.

  "Your Highness, I request leave.

  I have duties to complete."

  Asser nodded.

  Jabir groaned.

  Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

  "She's draining Aurik's treasury for her guild!

  Do something, Your Highness!

  Or she'll bankrupt us!"

  Asser smiled.

  "You're in charge."

  Laika smirked.

  "Move."

  Jabir stood.

  "Farewell, noble friends.

  I know you'll miss me.

  But fear not—I shall return."

  Sylvanas rolled her eyes.

  "Just go, you lunatic."

  Kasra chuckled softly, holding Asser's hand.

  Sylvanas stood.

  "Your Highness...

  I'll see you tomorrow for training.

  I'll issue orders for additional recruitment and intensive drills under your command."

  "You have my blessing," Asser said.

  "Kasra's too."

  Sylvanas bowed and departed.

  —

  Kasra looked at the cake.

  "Did you hear about the new circus?"

  Asser blinked.

  "Circus?

  What circus?

  The old troupe...

  Do you remember them?

  Father used to let them perform in the palace.

  What were they called?"

  "The White Emeralds!"

  "Yes! That's it!

  Wait... they've returned?"

  "No.

  This one's called the Red Mist."

  "Red Mist?

  Strange name."

  Kasra nodded, excited.

  "They're kind!

  I saw their show!

  They tame beasts from the valley—make them pose in impossible ways!

  And they have magical tricks!"

  Asser narrowed his eyes.

  "You left the palace...

  Again?

  Without telling me?"

  Kasra stammered.

  "Me? No... I mean... I was just—"

  Asser sighed.

  "Sister...

  Didn't I ask you to inform me before going out?

  It's dangerous."

  "I'm sorry...

  Brother... Your Highness..."

  She turned away.

  Asser raised his hand and stood.

  "Stop.

  I didn't mean it like that.

  Just tell me next time.

  Maybe I'll come with you."

  "Really?!"

  "Why not?"

  "Fun!"

  Asser smiled.

  "Was your personal guard with you?"

  "Yes.

  He was."

  "Good.

  But don't go far with just him.

  Stay in public.

  Always."

  "Understood..."

  Asser stretched.

  "Time for rest.

  Tomorrow, I'll deal with the Royal Court's chief."

  "Good luck.

  I'll be with you."

  "Of course."

  —

  Outside, the cold wind whispered.

  Snow fell again.

  And the towers of Aurik burned bright against the frost.

  Rose awoke before dawn.

  The cold had deepened overnight—temperatures plummeting to unprecedented lows as the Kingdom of Ember entered its winter phase. In the heart of Aurik, the frost clung to rooftops like silver moss, and the breath of the city steamed in the air.

  She stretched slowly, her limbs stiff from the chill, and pulled on her tattered garments.

  "A new day," she murmured. "I need to find a magic staff... something that can help me channel the spells my father taught me."

  Downstairs, the inn's reception was already alive. Fadi stood behind the counter, serving guests with his usual calm precision.

  Rose waved. "Good morning!"

  Fadi smiled warmly. "Morning, miss! Come—breakfast is ready."

  She sat quietly, watching the steam rise from the plates.

  Fadi returned with a tray: filtered grape juice infused with mint, crisped meat, and a fresh salad of winter greens.

  Rose's eyes widened.

  Fadi winked. "Go ahead."

  She dug in, eating with unfiltered hunger. A few guests chuckled softly at her enthusiasm.

  When she finished, she wiped her mouth and leaned toward the counter, lowering her voice.

  "I wanted to ask... is there a place nearby that sells clothes? Nothing expensive. You know..."

  Fadi nodded. "Of course. Head left from here, walk straight. You'll find a modest tailoring shop. They sell simple garments and do repairs too."

  Rose smiled. "Thank you."

  Fadi waved. "Good luck!"

  She stepped into the street, the cold biting at her skin. The city was waking—merchants wheeling carts of food, shopkeepers unlocking doors, guards yawning as their shifts neared an end.

  One of the guards raised a hand. "You're up early! Good luck out there!"

  Rose blinked, surprised. "Thanks! You too!"

  She continued on, boots crunching over frost-laced cobblestones, until she reached a small storefront.

  Wendy's Tailoring.

  A humble shop, its windows fogged with warmth. Inside: racks of wool, simple robes, and the scent of old thread.

  She pushed the door open. A bell chimed.

  From behind the counter, an elderly woman emerged—short, hunched, her eyes sharp despite her age.

  "Welcome, child," she said, voice slow and steady. "I'm Wendy. How can I help you? Your clothes... they've seen battle. I could mend them for you."

  Rose nodded. "Yes, please. I'd like that. But I also need a new cloak. Something I can wear while you work."

  Threads of Memory

  Inside Wendy's Tailoring, the cold pressed against the windows, a silent reminder of the deepening frost outside.

  Wendy moved slowly, her voice soft and deliberate. "Of course... judging by your robe, you're a sorceress. Let me fetch something similar to what you're wearing."

  Rose blinked. "How did you know?"

  Wendy smiled faintly. "Experience, I suppose."

  Rose nodded. "You're right."

  Wendy returned with a few modest garments—simple, practical, and warm.

  Rose scanned them, then pointed to a brown one-piece robe and a black woolen cloak, hand-stitched from mountain sheep.

  "A good choice," Wendy said. "The cold has been unforgiving lately."

  Rose looked up. "I didn't mean it that way. I just chose from what you offered. I should thank you."

  Wendy waved her hand. "No thanks needed, dear."

  Rose hesitated. "I was wondering... how much for the cloak, the robe, and the repair of my old garment?"

  Wendy smiled. "Two coins."

  Rose's eyes widened. "That's... generous."

  Wendy chuckled. "This is a humble place, not a fashion hall."

  Rose bowed slightly. "I didn't mean to offend. I'm sorry."

  Wendy laughed quietly. "No harm done."

  She gestured toward the staircase. "Go on up and change. I'll wait here."

  Rose nodded. "Of course."

  She climbed the stairs and changed into the brown robe and black cloak—both worn but sturdy.

  Returning, she handed her old garment to Wendy.

  The old woman held it gently, her eyes narrowing.

  "This is handwoven... these threads aren't from Aurik. It's a rare cotton—one I haven't seen in decades."

  Rose's breath caught.

  Wendy searched her memory. "There used to be knights who came here... loud ones. Always shouting about honor and courage... Lenovard?"

  Rose's eyes widened. "Yes, grandmother! My mother made it. She was from Lenovard."

  Wendy looked up. "You're from Lenovard? That's rare. I haven't had a customer from there in ages... not since everything happened."

  Rose lowered her head, sorrow flickering in her eyes. "Grandmother Wendy... could you mend it carefully? It's the last thing I have from my mother. My father and brother gathered the pieces and made it for me."

  Wendy reached out, placing her hand over Rose's. "Don't worry, child. Grandma Wendy will stitch it with love and care. I promise."

  Rose smiled. "Thank you..."

  "Come back tomorrow," Wendy said.

  Rose nodded. "I will."

  As she stepped outside, a young man stormed toward the shop, slamming the door open.

  Rose turned, startled.

  "Mother! I need money!"

  Wendy's voice remained calm. "I've given you enough, son."

  "I need more! I lost everything gambling last night. It's bad luck!"

  Wendy sighed. "I warned you—those places are nests of thieves. They feed on men like you..."

  Rose quietly stepped away, leaving the tension behind, and made her way toward the Mercenary Guild.

  The Mission of Shadows

  Rose pushed open the guild doors.

  A new table stood at the center, freshly carved and polished. Razan was busy sorting scrolls, speaking with a mercenary in hushed tones.

  Jalmoud sat nearby, gnawing on a slab of meat, his gaze fixed on a group of nervous newcomers. They avoided his eyes.

  Rose stepped forward. "I'm here for a mission."

  A voice rang out behind her.

  "I see the lady has acquired new garments!" Klen declared. "You look magnificently noble and beautifully honorable, Lady Rose!"

  Rose sighed. "Shut up."

  Razan looked up, startled. "It's you? I didn't recognize you... until I saw that ridiculous knight."

  Klen pointed dramatically. "You are a traitor to honor, nobility, and pride!"

  Jalmoud chuckled. "Looks like the rookie mercenary's earned some mileage."

  Razan smirked. "No matter how many cloaks or armor sets you wear, you're still reckless and arrogant."

  Rose exhaled. "Just let me focus..."

  Razan waved them over. "Come here. After yesterday's performance, a new mission has arrived."

  Jalmoud, still chewing, added, "It's a two-person job. Eight-coin reward."

  Razan read from the scroll. "You're to deliver magical documents to the Mage Guild. To a sorceress named Viola."

  Rose frowned. "Why not deliver them yourselves? Or use the postal mages?"

  Razan's eyes narrowed. "That's the twist. The documents are currently in a cottage outside the city. An old retired sorcerer took them without permission. The guild insists they be retrieved—without force, and without involving the guards."

  Rose raised an eyebrow. "So... we're stealing them."

  Razan shrugged. "You could say that."

  Klen raised his voice, eyes wide with theatrical alarm.

  "So it's an armed heist! That's unethical! I shall ensure this mission becomes noble, honorable, and magnificent—for all involved, and especially for me!"

  Rose narrowed her eyes. "This doesn't sound like your kind of mission."

  Klen grinned. "Why not? It sounds thrilling. True, it's not noble, not magnificent, not honorable... but I'll make it so. The man took those files unjustly, didn't he?"

  Razan sighed. "That's all. Be warned—others may reach the cottage before you. Or worse... try to steal the documents from you."

  Rose's eyes sharpened. "So we might face competition..."

  Jalmoud nodded, chewing. "Definitely."

  Klen raised both arms dramatically. "Fear not, Lady Rose! I shall protect you with my soul, my life, my greatness, my honor, and my nobility!"

  Rose closed her eyes. "Please... stop talking."

  She turned to Jalmoud, smirking. "Look at you—like a cow. You keep eating until you explode."

  Razan's eyes widened. "No!"

  Jalmoud stood, furious. "What did you say?!"

  He slammed the table, shattering it. Several mercenaries scattered.

  Razan shouted, "Jalmoud!"

  Jalmoud blinked. "I'm sorry!"

  Rose and Klen slipped out quickly.

  —

  They walked through the city streets, the cold biting at their cloaks.

  Rose spoke quietly. "Listen... we need to finish this fast and clean. No fights. But if it comes to that, be ready."

  Klen gripped his sword. "I swear by my greatness, my honor, my loyalty, and my nobility to you, Lady Rose... we will complete this mission."

  Rose closed her eyes. "Just don't ruin it."

  Klen nodded. "Even if I do... I'll fix it with my reputation and my radiant honor."

  Rose sighed. "Let's go."

  Suddenly, a group of cloaked figures rushed past them, footsteps quick and deliberate.

  Guards followed, shouting.

  Sylvance moved through the corridors, searching.

  Rose froze. "Klen... those are the same people we saw in the forest. They're running from the guards. I knew they were dangerous."

  Klen placed a hand on his helmet. "Should we pursue them? Bring them to justice? I could offer them my greatness and history to convince them to surrender."

  Rose shook her head. "Absolutely not. They're dangerous. And it's not our job. Let's finish the mission—quickly."

  Rose and Klen moved through the narrowing streets, the cold wind biting at their cloaks. Ahead, members of the Mage Guild walked with urgency, scanning alleys and corners as if searching for something—or someone.

  Rose narrowed her eyes. "Look, Klen... they're hunting. There's definitely something going on."

  Klen straightened his back, voice swelling with pride. "Then perhaps the time has come for the world to witness my greatness, my honor, and my nobility!"

  Rose pressed forward, her breath fogging in the air. In the shadows, a figure caught her eye.

  She froze.

  An old man stood still, half-shrouded in the mist.

  Her voice dropped to a whisper. "That's... the old man from the Valley of Wonders. He's out of the tunnels? Is this part of the mission? What is he doing here?"

  The man—Jamih—watched her silently as she passed.

  Rose turned her gaze forward, unease tightening in her chest.

  Klen noticed. "What's wrong?"

  She shook her head. "Nothing."

  Klen gestured ahead, his armor clinking. "If we follow this path, we'll reach the city's edge. That's where the old man's cottage should be."

  "Alright," Rose said. "Let's move."

  They pressed on through the bitter wind, boots crunching over frost-hardened earth. Klen led the way, his red armor gleaming faintly in the pale morning light. Rose clutched her chest, shivering.

  "There it is!" Klen declared. "The noble and magnificent house!"

  Rose eyed the crooked structure. "You want to break in?"

  "Break in? Why would we do that?"

  He stepped forward and knocked on the door.

  Rose's eyes widened. "Are you insane?"

  Klen knocked again. "Why not? We'll explain the situation. He'll return the files with honor and pride—for the glory of the kingdom!"

  Rose sighed. "No one's answering. Stop knocking. Maybe the place is empty. This is our chance. Let's check the window."

  Klen frowned, drawing his sword. "You want to spy? That's dishonorable, unwise, and entirely un-noble!"

  "I don't care," Rose muttered.

  "The Red Knight shall observe your actions with great reluctance."

  She pointed. "Come here. Lift me up—I need to see inside."

  Klen gasped. "You're asking the Red Knight to assist in an act of espionage? I'm disappointed."

  Rose stared at him.

  He sighed. "Very well. My noble spirit, my virtuous soul, and my chivalrous code have... reluctantly agreed."

  He hoisted her up.

  Rose wiped the frost from the window and peered inside.

  Her breath caught.

  "Klen!"

  "What is it?"

  "There's someone on the floor... blood. A lot of it."

  Klen blinked. "Are you sure? Maybe he passed out from drinking. Spilled his wine."

  Rose dropped down. "No. I saw his neck. A clean cut—deep. That was a blade."

  Klen placed a hand on his helmet, thinking. "Then someone got here before us. Or worse..."

  He turned to her, voice low.

  "...this might be a trap, Lady Rose."

  The Red kinght Duel

  Klen stepped forward, voice ringing with conviction.

  "For my honor and nobility—I shall enter the cottage!"

  Rose reached out, tense. "Klen! Wait!"

  But he was already moving.

  With a crash, Klen broke through the door.

  Inside, a figure in black stood motionless.

  Rose followed, heart pounding.

  She grabbed Klen's arm. "We need to leave. Call the guards—this is beyond us!"

  Klen pointed his sword. "You! Your blade is stained with blood! Where is your honor, your nobility, your greatness? This is disgraceful!"

  He turned to the table. "Rose—look! The files. He came for them!"

  Rose's voice trembled. "Forget the files. His cloak... it's the same as those who destroyed my village. Klen, we need to go!"

  Klen's eyes narrowed. "So be it."

  He drew his sword.

  His jeweled armor shimmered, the crest of Aurik's royal guard glowing on his blade.

  Rose gasped. "Klen! You're not seriously going to fight him? Look at his robes—he's dangerous!"

  "He's lying," Klen said. "His aura matches the ones we saw in the forest. He's changed his clothes for a masquerade of false nobility!"

  He turned to her. "Stay back, Rose. Or call the guards."

  The stranger lunged.

  Klen blocked the strike with his shield, shouting, "Let the world witness the power of the Red Knight—noble, magnificent, and true!"

  He countered with a sweeping blow. "Strike of Aurik's Honor!"

  The stranger deflected and retaliated with a swift slash.

  Klen caught it with his massive shield, then launched another strike—missed by inches.

  Rose watched, stunned. Klen was holding his own.

  She darted forward, snatching the files from the table.

  The stranger turned, blade flashing.

  Rose rolled aside, unleashing venomous blasts.

  He deflected them with ease and charged.

  Klen slammed his sword into the ground, sending a shockwave that forced the stranger back.

  He retreated, breathing heavily.

  Rose shouted, "Klen! Should we run?"

  Klen's voice was thunder.

  "No! This dishonorable wretch has slain a noble soul of Ember! He has defiled sacred ground with blood! He has shattered the Iron Law of the Knights—broken only by a strike of true greatness, nobility, and honor!"

  Rose slammed her palm against the cottage floor.

  "Step back, Klen!"

  He leapt away just as a toxic cloud erupted from her hand, flooding the room in a green haze.

  Klen shielded his face, watching Rose with awe.

  Above them, the stranger burst through the ceiling and vanished into the mist.

  Rose turned, breath sharp. "Klen, we need to run! We have the files—we must deliver them and get out!"

  Klen nodded. "Of course! The coward fled—without honor!"

  "No time for speeches. Move!"

  They sprinted into the cold, only to find themselves surrounded.

  Assassins from the Korta tunnels emerged, blades gleaming.

  One stepped forward, dagger raised. "Hand over the files."

  Rose's eyes narrowed. "Never."

  She hurled a venomous orb that exploded in smoke, scattering their formation.

  Klen slammed his foot into the ground, scooped Rose into his arms, and dashed away.

  "Put me down! What are you doing?!"

  "This is a mission of honor and nobility!"

  Suddenly, a freezing fog rolled through the city—thick, blinding, unnatural.

  From the mist, a figure emerged.

  Dais.

  The Royal High Advisor.

  He clapped slowly. "Well done, Mercenary Guild. You've retrieved the files. Now..."

  He extended his hand. "Give them to me."

  Rose hesitated, fear tightening her grip.

  Klen bowed. "Advisor Dais! It is a noble honor to meet you."

  Dais smiled.

  "But I'm afraid... our mission demands we deliver these to the Mage Guild."

  Dais's smile faded. "Of course. I'll ensure they reach the guild personally."

  Klen straightened. "I'm sorry, Your Excellency. I must decline."

  Dais's expression darkened.

  Suddenly, Jamih emerged from the fog behind him, striking with force.

  Dais dodged, retreating.

  Jamih snatched the files, tore them apart, and handed Rose a different scroll.

  His voice was cold, his gaze sharp. "Deliver this... to the same destination."

  Dais's eyes flared.

  Rose whispered, "Klen, run!"

  They bolted.

  Dais raised his hand, unleashing a beam of shadow.

  Jamih blocked it, countering with a surge of orange energy.

  Dais leapt aside.

  "You're a nuisance, old man. Did you come to witness the fall of the Golden Trio? Guess what—you're the last one left."

  Jamih lunged.

  Dark aura burst from Dais as assassins encircled him.

  Jamih stood firm.

  Dais glared, fury rising.

  Through the Fog and Flame

  At that very moment in the city—

  Klen ran, armor clattering with every stride, carrying Rose and the precious scrolls.

  Rose squinted through the thick mist. "I can't see anything!"

  Klen's voice rang out. "Indeed! This is no ordinary fog—it's noble, magnificent, and honorable!"

  Rose groaned. "Do you even know where you're going?"

  "Fear not, Lady Rose! The Red Knight knows every path—memorized for the salvation of precious lives!"

  She narrowed her eyes. "You mean... we're fleeing?"

  "Possibly!"

  Suddenly, figures in crimson cloaks blocked their path.

  One stepped forward. "Hand over the scrolls. They're not yours."

  Rose stood firm. "We crossed half the city and risked our lives. We won't surrender them so easily!"

  Klen nodded solemnly. "Indeed. This has been a national dialogue between greatness, truth, nobility, and honor!"

  One of the cloaked figures lunged.

  But arrows whistled from the fog, striking the ground near them.

  The attackers retreated.

  Rose shouted, "Now, Klen—run!"

  He darted into a narrow alley.

  Behind them, guards surrounded the red-cloaked figures. Sylvance arrived, bow in hand, eyes sharp.

  Klen kept running until they reached the gates of the Mage Guild.

  Mercenaries surrounded the entrance.

  Rose cursed. "Damn it!"

  Klen pointed. "Shame on you! You waited for us to do the hard work, then came to claim the noble, magnificent scrolls! Well... they're not exactly noble, but—"

  "Watch out!" Rose cried.

  Klen dodged a strike.

  He set Rose down. "Go! Get inside the guild! I'll hold them off—with my honor, my strength, my greatness, and my nobility!"

  Rose smiled. "Alright!"

  She slammed her hand to the ground. "Mountain Venom!"

  A green mist burst forth—mercenaries collapsed, unconscious.

  Klen blinked. "Well... that's our chance!"

  Then he staggered.

  Rose turned. "You idiot! Why did you inhale it?!"

  Klen's voice faded as he fell.

  "The Red Knight... noble... magnificent... honorable..."