Rederick strode into the throne room, the echo of his footsteps bouncing off the cold, polished stone. Aadalarasu stood tall before the throne, his posture rigid, as if bracing for something. On the throne, Bernhard sat, a regal figure who held the room’s heavy silence, his sharp eyes fixed ahead. At his side, Peter remained motionless, a silent sentinel in his own right.

  The room was stark, empty save for the few guards lining the walls. Sunrays streamed through the windows, glinting off their polished armor, making them appear almost like angels. They gripped their billhooks in one hand while the other rested neatly at their side.

  Rederick approached, his gaze shifting between the king and the silent protector. After a brief pause, with a hint of hesitation and nerves, he spoke. ′Protector of the North,′ he began, bowing his head slightly though his eyes never left Bernhard, ′may I have a word with the king’s guardian?′

  Bernhard rose from the throne, his presence commanding the room. His gaze settled on Rederick as he spoke.

  ′As the man who discovered Drettius, aided the Dukes in uncovering my father’s murderer, and helped devise defensive strategies against the approaching Beastkin, you have earned this request. I will grant you time with my guardian. I trust my guards and advisor to watch over me for now while peace still holds.′

  Aadalarasu gave a slight bow. ′As you wish, Your Majesty.′

  Clad in his flamboyant armor with his signature feathered hat perched atop his head, Aadalarasu turned and gestured for Rederick to follow. The two departed the throne room, their footsteps the only things heard in the halls of the peak.

  They passed through towering archways and stone corridors, emerging into the open air. Between the castle’s second wall and its peak lay a sprawling courtyard, lush with greenery. A crisp breeze carried the scent of damp earth and distant blooms, offering a stark contrast to the cold stone of the inner throne room they had just left behind.

  ′I assume you’re wondering how I came to be in this position, Rederick,′ Aadalarasu began. ′Before you ask, no, I was never a hunter. I was banished from my homeland after stealing a few wrong things from the wrong people. As a child, I journeyed between Brotherwood and Grukkari with a small group of my kin. It was they who taught me the art of the dance.′ He drew his rapier partway, revealing its intricate handguard, designed like clockwork. The blade, forged from a peculiar brown steel, always appeared rusted because of it, yet possessed an elegance all its own. With his other hand, he twirled his moustache. ′I know that here, they look down on people like me.′

  Rederick interrupted him before he could finish. ′How did you end up in the King’s Guard, then? Especially with...′ He paused, glancing at Aadalarasu, considering his words carefully. ′I met someone else like you, someone who made himself massive. After just that small encounter, I found myself thinking about it more often than I expected. Now, all I want are answers: the how and the why.′

  Aadalarasu chuckled, the sound rich with amusement. ′Ah, like so many others, you judge by appearance. But you’re changing, Rederick, just like the people I protect.′ He paused, thoughtful. ′I became the prince’s protector when I saved his life from the very beasts we’ll soon face again. It was in that battle where I earned my nickname and began changing their minds. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.′

  Rederick nodded. ′That is definitely a good beginning.′ He paused, then continued, ’Interesting, trying to change the system from the inside out. You should visit Drech if you ever get the chance. It’s an intriguing county, a vassal to the Empirium, yet they live so differently from the empire.′

  Aadalarasu’s fingers curled around his mustache as he gazed skyward, a gleeful smile tugging at his lips. ′Drech, you say? Hmm, perhaps one day. I’ve heard tales of their annual tournament, where the greatest warriors gather. Every time I hear of it; I can’t help but wonder... how far I might rise in the ranks.′

  His eyes flicked back to Rederick. ’But tell me, what prompted you to ask such questions in the first place?′

  Rederick hesitated for a moment, then spoke with measured honesty. ′It’s simple, really. In history, foreign guards were never allowed in positions of power. I was curious how you earned your place and how you’ve used it. It baffles me that you’d follow a man so blindly, giving your life for someone whose fate is already set to be handed to another. I just want to live in peace, far away, with my brother.′ His voice softened, weariness creeping in as he revealed more than he intended. ′That other man, he sells things, helps people from the outside, and gets recognition for it. But you... you are one of a kind.′

  Aadalarasu tilted his head, studying Rederick. ′So, why become a hunter? Sure, it offers more freedom than what I do, but it’s a lot more dangerous. Honestly, sometimes it feels more like a prison than my duties.′

  Rederick’s expression flickered for a moment. He turned away, taking a few breaths before meeting Aadalarasu’s gaze again. ′I have my reasons... reasons I need to keep moving forward, to stay in the hunt.′

  ′Fair enough,′ Aadalarasu nodded. ′I’d help if I could, Rederick. But for now, I’m stuck with my own duties. My loyalty stays with the prince, until he decides otherwise.′

  A soldier sprinted past them, heading straight for the peak. Both Rederick and Aadalarasu exchanged glances before following him into the throne room, where the soldier knelt before Bernhard.

  ′The Purple Man is here, Protector of the North,′ the soldier panted, trying to catch his breath.

  Bernhard leaned forward on his throne, his gaze fixed on the soldier. ‘Rise, soldier of Dukedom, defender of Dunten. Tell me, who is this Purple Man you speak of?’

  The soldier stood, visibly shaken. ′He walked past our defenses with two horses, like it was nothing. ′We just stood there and watched. Then he said, ′Go to your king and tell him the Purple Man is here.′

  Rederick’s body tensed. ′That man...′ His voice was rough and coarse as he turned, storming out of the Peak, barely restraining himself.

  Keep calm. Stay calm. It’s just him… Who am I fooling? Chasing purpose in a life like this…

  Outside, the soldiers had the Purple Man surrounded as he yelled, ′Well, there, dear Rederick! Long time, no see. How are you doing?′ Kian pushed his camouflage cape aside to reveal his arm and waved toward Rederick.

  Rederick gave a small wave in return. ′That’s my kid,′ he muttered, loud enough for the guards to hear. He then turned to Albaras and responded, ′All is well enough. How did your affairs go?′

  ′So-so. It didn’t go as planned. I got stabbed, poisoned, and ran into our dear friend Kruger again, who’s working with our killer.′

  ′Wait, you’ve fought Drettius?′ Rederick said, his voice catching. ′We have his body lying here.′

  Rederick glanced at the soldiers gathered around them. ′Let them through; they’re with me.′ The soldiers hesitated for only a moment before stepping aside, quickly preparing their defenses. One of the soldiers on horseback rode into the fortress.

  ′Come on,′ Rederick said to Albaras and Kian. ′Let’s meet the new protector and take a look at the body.′

  They followed Rederick into the fortress, making their way toward the peak. As they approached, Bernhard emerged from the inner gate, flanked by Aadalarasu and Peter.

  ′Rederick,′ Bernhard called, his gaze shifting to Albaras. ′Who’s your companion?′

  Before Rederick could answer, Albaras stepped forward, his tone effortlessly composed. ′Greetings, Protector of the North,′ Albaras said, tone light, almost careless. ′I’m here to examine the false body. I’ve fought Drettius personally... though he managed to escape me.’

  Peter’s brow furrowed, his grip tightening around his cane. ′If you’ve fought Drettius... then whose body do we have?′

  Without hesitation, Bernhard turned to his guards. ′We’re going to the tomb. I want to see the investigation for myself.′

  The group set off, their way through Dunten being observed by the people and the scurrying of soldiers moving to different locations with tools. They moved through the bustling heart of the city, where ovens burned hot and smoke curled into the sky. The rhythmic clang of hammers against metal filled the air, mingling with the scent of newly forged steel. Children scurried past, some carrying heavy buckets of water, while others rushed with empty ones.

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  As they ventured deeper into the dim, narrow streets, the city’s clamor softened, replaced by a distant hum of life. The once-bold clang of hammers now echoed faintly, a ghostly reminder of Dunten’s ceaseless industry. The scent of smoke and iron hung in the air like a lingering shadow, curling into every alley and crevice, clinging to the very stones of the city.

  Ahead, an alley emerged from the gloom, its walls of ancient stone leading to the tomb’s entrance. The doorway loomed, carved from solid rock and adorned with the bones of long-dead beasts. Their remains intertwined with the stone, etched with strange ancient symbols, markings from a time long forgotten.

  Albaras approached, running his fingers over the worn carvings. ′What do these symbols mean?′ he asked, glancing over at Bernhard.

  Bernhard shrugged. ′No one knows. They were engraved long before my family took on the title of Protector of the North, decades, maybe centuries ago.′

  Albaras chuckled. ′Really?′

  A figure emerged from the shadow of a nearby tower. The building loomed tall and imposing, shaped like a mountain chiseled from stone. At its peak, a massive bell hung suspended just above the open maw of a serpent, its stone teeth framing the bell’s swinging pillar, an eternal guardian of the fortress.

  The hooded man paused in his steps, his eyes settling on the group. ‘My protector,’ he said slowly, his voice thick with gravity. ‘Are you here for the body? And with such company?’

  Bernhard responded with a single, solemn nod.

  ′Follow me, then, gentlemen,′ the hooded figure gestured toward the entrance of the tomb. ′The body lies below, where the cold deepens.′

  They descended into the chamber, stepping into a room lined with rows of removable stone slabs, three high and six long. In the center stood a stone table, large enough to bear the weight of a man. The air was thick with an unnatural chill, the cold silence of the stonework pressing against their senses.

  The hooded man gestured to one of the sealed compartments. ‘Knight, can you remove that one for me?’

  Rederick and Albaras exchanged a brief glance before stepping forward, lifting the heavy stone slab, and placing it carefully on the ground. Inside, a body lay shrouded in dark fabric.

  ‘Put him on the table,’ the hooded figure commanded.

  The two men obeyed, lifting the body onto the stone table. Kian, upon seeing the body’s pale form, stepped back uneasily, positioning himself behind Albaras as though seeking shelter from whatever they might uncover.

  Slowly, the hooded man began to remove the wrapping around the body. The features, pale and still, were unfamiliar to most. But one among them recognized the face immediately.

  Aadalarasu’s eyes widened in shock. ‘That’s... that’s one of my men.’

  The others turned to face him. Bernhard opened his mouth as if to speak, stuttering over his own words. Rederick balled his fist, while Albaras gave a small, almost amused laugh. ‘One of your men?’ they asked in unison, but in different tones.

  Aadalarasu hesitated, searching for the right words. ′Yes,′ he admitted, his voice heavy with an unexpected revelation. ′One of my men. I did not come here alone. I followed the king’s orders, arriving before the death of your protector.′ His gaze shifted to Bernhard, searching for any hint of reaction.

  ′We were sent here by my king,′ Aadalarasu continued, ′to ensure your protector’s safety. After his death, our mission shifted. We were to join your cause. I became captain of the group and integrated into your ranks, while the rest of my men stayed hidden... protecting you, Bernhard, from the shadows.′

  The room fell into stunned silence as the truth unfolded before them.

  ′I brought twenty men. But I lost track of three. This... this is one of them,′ Aadalarasu said, his tone heavy with regret.

  The hooded man spoke, his voice cold and steady: ′When Rederick brought this body to us, we found out that it had been cold for four days already. That means he was killed quite some time after the assassination.′

  Peter tightened his grip on his cane, the rhythmic tapping against the stone floor a quiet but steady reassurance. His eyes flicked over the faces around him before he spoke, his voice low but laden with the weight of suppressed truth.

  ′I have something to say,′ Peter began, each word measured, ′about what truly transpired the night our protector was assassinated.′ The room grew still as all eyes turned toward him. ′There was... a moment. One I haven’t spoken of until now.′

  He paused, his gaze hardening as he recalled the scene. ′Lady Matilda Stonewood, she spoke against a young lord, the one who knew about the green metal.′ His voice lowered further, and a shadow passed over his features. ′I saw her with that young lord... she leaned in, whispered something into his ear.′

  Peter’s grip tightened on his cane, the memory gnawing at him. ′I couldn’t get close enough to hear what was said,′ he admitted, frustration clear in his tone. ′I don’t know if she was calming him down or issuing some quiet order. But the way she moved, the way he responded, it didn’t sit right with me.′

  His gaze swept the room again, lingering on each face as though weighing them for truth. ′I don’t know where her loyalties lie,′ he said, his voice hushed but resolute. ′But something was not said out loud. I’ve sent agents to check on the Stonewood region and am now waiting for their return. That reminds me, more lords are likely untrustworthy, which is why I stayed here.′

  Bernhard’s expression hardened, his features settling into the stern, unyielding mask of a king prepared for war. His voice carried the weight of authority, but beneath it, a simmering unease.

  ′The Stonewood family has sent word by raven,′ he announced. ′They pledge fifteen thousand men, along with five hundred cavalry. A formidable force, yet...′ He paused, his brow furrowing as his eyes flicked toward the map spread before him. ′According to our records, they will still hold a reserve of a thousand men.′

  His gaze narrowed, calculating. ′Curious, isn’t it? More than a few lords have failed to commit their full strength to the front, not just Stonewood.′

  Bernhard’s voice grew sharper, a subtle accusation woven into his words. ′Some lords are holding back, while only the Pineburys and Purvioen have given us their entire forces without hesitation.′

  ′We’ll get our answers from Drettius,′ Rederick said firmly. ′We’ll bring you the real one soon enough.′

  As I glanced around, trying not to focus on the body, I noticed Albaras clenching his hand into a tight fist.

  ′Then, gentlemen,′ Albaras said, his voice steady, ′it seems it’s time to embark on a hunt.′

  Bernhard added a few words at the end. ′Aadalarasu and I will join you in this hunt. Drettius must be brought in and needs to be seen personally. If he isn’t dealt with soon, I’ll need to lead the war, and hell will break loose.′

  Peter shifted, as if wanting to interject, but Bernhard’s resolve was unshakable. ′First, I must bring my father’s killer to justice. Not just for myself, but for the morale of our men. They deserve to know the truth: that the real killer is dead, not some convenient lie.′

  Peter tapped his cane thoughtfully before responding. ′As you wish, Protector of the North. If you would have me, I can oversee the logistics while you’re gone.′

  Bernhard nodded, a flicker of trust in his gaze. ′Very well. You may use my study, Lord Peter. Keep everything in order until we return.′

  With that, they followed the hooded man back toward the surface. As they climbed the stone steps, he cast a glance toward Aadalarasu. ′Would you like your man’s body returned, or shall we proceed with the dissection?′

  Aadalarasu’s jaw tightened; his reluctance clear in his expression. After a brief silence, he nodded. ′Do as you will,′ he replied quietly, though the weight of the words hung heavily in his tone.

  The hooded man said no more, and the rest of the ascent passed in silence. The cool gloom of the tomb gradually gave way to sunlight as they emerged, bright rays spilling into the chamber.

  ′You three wait outside. I’ll join you soon,′ Bernhard said, as he and Aadalarasu continued ahead.

  Albaras turned to the hooded man. ′Can you make a copy of everything you find on the body?′

  The hooded man chuckled softly before slipping back into the shadows of the building. Rederick, eyeing Albaras with suspicion, asked, ′Why do you need a copy?′

  Albaras laughed heartily, but beneath the surface, there was an eerie second chuckle—almost inhuman, mixing with the first in an unsettling tone. ′Let’s just wait outside,′ he said, struggling to suppress his laughter.

  What is wrong with him? Albaras had always acted differently, but never cold. Unnerved, Kian moved behind Rederick, instinctively seeking the older man’s protection.

  Rederick’s hand gripped his sword, ready to draw it. ′You’re a madman, Albaras. Always with your strange laugh, your twisted ideas, and your... inhuman ways.′

  Albaras stopped. ′Well, my dear Rederick, let’s step outside. And next time,′ his voice dropped lower, ′keep your thoughts to yourself. You’re scaring our dear boy.′

  Without another word, they exited, the tension between them thick as the lingering shadows of the tomb.

  The next morning, Kian sat upright in his saddle, ready to move out. Rederick paced back and forth next to his horse while Albaras lounged casually atop his own.

  ′Where is Bernhard? We have no time to wait,′ Rederick said hastily.

  ′Just wait a few minutes, lad,′ Albaras replied. ′If we wait too long, we go without him. But it’s rude to leave the new Protector.′

  Albaras rose slightly. ′You can get back up on your horse, Sir Knight.′

  Rederick glanced at Albaras, then followed his gaze. Without hesitation, he mounted his now-armored horse, a gift from the Pineburys and the Protector to aid them in wartime, though it hadn’t been necessary before. The horse, once smaller, now looked almost as large as Albaras′ steed.

  Bernhard and Aadalarasu rode out of the gate entrance. Bernhard looked around as soldiers marched past, heading into Dunten or working on engines. Catapults, ballistae, and carriages were being crafted in the fields. Poles with ropes encircled empty areas, marking zones awaiting construction.

  Aadalarasu rode up to the group, his horse armored just as flamboyantly as he himself was. His voice was calm but firm. ′We can go. Our protector is ready.′

  Bernhard approached, his metal armor glinting in the sunlight. Though practical, it gave him the appearance of a common soldier, far removed from the opulence of other lords. His armor was built for battle, a testament to his leadership style, leading from the front rather than from a throne. His horse, armored the same, stood out only due to its noble breed.

  ′As we move forward,′ Albaras began, taking command of the formation, ′Aadalarasu, you’ll ride in the back. I’ll take the lead. Rederick and Kian, cover the sides, and Bernhard will ride in the center.′

  Bernhard nodded, his respect for Albaras clear. ′You know best, Albaras, as the oldest active hunter. I trust the positioning and the information we’ve gathered.′

  Albaras glanced at everyone’s positioning, his sharp eyes scanning for any adjustments. ′Time to find our dear friend,′ he said, his tone grim as they prepared for what lay ahead.

  As they set off, Peter watched them from atop the fortress walls. His cane trembled in his hand, his frail frame looking as though the slightest breeze might topple him. Yet his gaze remained sharp, following the group as they disappeared into the distance.