The heavy doors groaned open as the guard stepped aside.
Rage entered.
The war room was dark despite the daylight outside. All the windows were shut. Only the flickering glow of scattered candles and the faint embers of a stone hearth along the far wall provided light.
Queen Ignia sat at the head of the table, leaning forward, one arm resting lazily on the polished surface.
His gaze drifted past her, locking onto the two figures standing before her.
Adventurers.
Rage tilted his head slightly, watching as the two men handed Ignia a scroll.
[SYSTEM] Van Lv.57
[SYSTEM] class : Assassin
[SYSTEM] neutral
Van was the taller of the two. His frame was lean. He wore dark leathers. A long, travel-worn cloak draped over his shoulders. A wide, conical hat sat low on his head. Its woven brim cast a deep shadow over his face.
[SYSTEM] Kyle Lv.53
[SYSTEM] class : Knight
[SYSTEM] neutral
Kyle had the build of a seasoned warrior. He had broad shoulders. His frame was large and strong. Most of him was hidden under the cloak. His uncovered head showed a hardened face. A long, travel-worn cloak draped over him. Beneath the cloak, the faint glint of steel showed the armor hidden under the fabric. A towering shield was strapped to his back. At his hip hung a longsword.
"Quest turn-up. Must be adventurers." Rage muttered to himself.
Ignia unrolled the scroll. Her eyes flicked over its contents. Her expression barely shifted, but the slight press of her lips spoke volumes.
With a slow exhale, she set the parchment down.
"As expected."
Without further prompting, Van and Kyle moved to the side. They took their seats against the wall. Both settled into a relaxed posture.
Rage's eyes caught movement.
To Ignia's left, nearly blending into the dim candlelight, stood a hooded figure.
A shadow draped in deep, muted colors. The presence was subtle. Too subtle.
But that could not fool him.
[SYSTEM] Vera Lv.48
[SYSTEM] class : Assassin
[SYSTEM] loyalty : 78%
She stepped forward as if the darkness itself had released her.
Her eyes were piercing violet. Sharp as a dagger's edge. Not soft. Not dreamlike. Deep black hair fell in loose, careless waves over one shoulder. She was tall and lean. Built for precision rather than brute force.
Her form was wrapped in layers of black fabric. It was subtly reinforced for combat. Not the heavy armor of knights. Not the rugged leathers of mercenaries.
At her hips rested twin curved blades. Their handles were worn from years of use. An assassin's weapons. Balanced, lethal, and never for show. Only for efficiency.
Her lips curled into a smirk, one gloved hand idly brushing against the faint wound on her arm. "There's more to you than meets the eye."
Rage shrugged. "And there's more to you than our queen lets on."
Ignia exhaled, unimpressed. "We're working together. Drop it."
Vera let out a dramatic sigh.
"Tch. So much for subtlety." Her arms folded loosely as her gaze flickered to Rage, amusement in her eyes. "Guess you're not all brawn after all."
Rage shifted his weight. "And you're not as sneaky as you think."
Ignia didn't rise to the bait. Instead, she reached for a stack of neatly bound parchments and held it out. "I need you to sign these."
Rage scratched the back of his head. "So that's why you called me so early."
Ignia didn't respond.
He sighed. He took the papers and skimmed through the dense, overly detailed texts.
None of it made sense to him. Clauses, provisions, something about land rights.
His brow furrowed.
"Oh yeah, I totally understand all of this," he Muttered.
And, just like a normal, law-abiding, functional citizen who never read an end-user license agreements, he flipped straight to the last page to agree and sign.
"Where do I sign?"
Vera shrugged. "If you say so."
She grabbed his hand and dragged a dagger across his palm.
A sharp sting shot through his hand. "What the hell?"
Rage pulled his arm back. His eyes snapped to the fresh cut. "What happened to quills? Ink? Civilized methods?"
Ignia didn't even look up as she nodded toward the document.
Rage let out a slow breath and with a resigned sigh, he pressed his bleeding palm against the final section of the document.
Vera did not hesitate. She pulled her dagger and dragged it across her own palm. She pressed her hand down next to his.
Ignia followed suit. She unsheathed a small blade from her belt, ran it across her palm without so much as a flinch, and sealed her mark beside theirs.
Then she slid another stack of parchment toward Rage.
Rage stared at it. "You've gotta be kidding me."
Ignia didn't blink. "You're not done."
Rage exhaled sharply but gave in. He pressed his palm to the last page of the new document.
This time, Vera simply watched as Ignia followed.
Ignia marked her place beside him.
A brief silence settled over the room.
Then, without a word, Vera lifted her gaze and gave a subtle nod to the guard by the door.
The guard responded in kind, then turned, raising a hand in a silent command.
Across the chamber, another guard stepped forward and grasped a thick rope hanging near the stone archway. With a firm tug, he pulled it downward.
Outside, fabric rustled as the king's banner rose into place. Its rich colors unfurled against the morning sky.
The golden emblem, long absent from the fortress walls, caught the first light of day. It gleamed like a forgotten promise.
Onlookers across the stronghold halted mid-step. Their gazes went upward in silent disbelief. Murmurs rippled through the streets. Some were hushed in reverence. Others were edged with uncertainty.
For years, the symbol of kingship had been absent. Now, its return sent a ripple through the crowd. Excitement, unease, and something deeper.
The elders stood still, their faces lined with age. Some narrowed their eyes, remembering the past. Others felt old loyalty stir. The banner brought back memories of when they had sworn oaths to a king.
Among the soldiers and guards, the reactions were different. Some looked at each other, checking if they weren't imagining things. Then they straightened. Shoulders squared. Chins lifted. Pride filled their chests. After years of fighting without a king, the banner meant something.
Yet not all were moved.
In the marketplace, merchants whispered among themselves, wary of what this meant for their carefully balanced trade.
In the slums, veterans of past wars watched with suspicion. They wondered if history was doomed to repeat itself.
Still, the banner remained, high and unchallenged. The kingdom took in the sight of its return.
Rage narrowed his eyes. "Wait. Did I just sell my soul?"
Vera's smirk deepened, the amusement in her gaze bordering on wicked. "More than that."
Rage's expression flattened. "Oh, great. Love that."
Before he could ask more, Ignia spoke. "Tomorrow, you head southwest to Abyssal Tides. Queen Mariselle requires your aid."
Rage blinked. His thoughts struggled to catch up.
"Wait. First, who said I was available? Second, why would I--"
"You leave at dawn." Ignia didn't acknowledge his protests. "A carriage will be waiting."
"I can ride a horse."
"You're taking the carriage."
Rage held her gaze for half a second.
There was no room for negotiation. Only obedience.
He cleared his throat. "Yes, your majesty."
Ignia gave a curt nod. "Now you are dismissed."
Rage turned toward the exit.
As he strode to the door, he cast a final glance at the two adventurers.
Van and Kyle followed suit shortly after, pausing briefly as Ignia handed them a new documents.
"Great. Guess I'm not the only one getting sent on a fetch quest," he thought.
Rage walked alone, the heavy doors of the castle closed behind. The sun cast long shadows across the stone streets as he made his way down the Grand way, heading east.
It occurred to him then that he had not explored much of Firekeep beyond the castle walls, the training yard, and his quarters.
The fortress city held more, but his days had been filled with drills, fights, and orders.
The towering buildings gave way to bustling streets lined with shops and open stalls.
The scent of roasted meats and fresh bread lingered in the air. It mixed with the constant smell of smoke from the forges.
Merchants called out their wares. Blacksmiths hammered at their craft. Townsfolk moved with purpose, weaving through the lively cityscape.
"Hey, boy!"
Rage turned toward the voice.
An old man sat atop a wooden cart stacked with hay, reins in hand, a patient donkey waiting beside him. The man squinted at him, adjusting the worn hat on his head. "Where are you going? I'm heading east if you've a need for a ride."
Rage glanced at the cart, then at the road ahead. "Not at the moment."
The old man let out a chuckle, flicking the reins to get the donkey moving. "As you will."
Past the eastern gates, the landscape shifted. Unlike the west, where the world stretched into an endless desert, the east was different.
A long, wide road stretched into the horizon. It was paved and well-traveled.
Carts rolled in the distance. Some carried goods, others passengers. All moved toward distant destinations.
Beyond them, the land unfolded in vast stretches, leading to distant green mountains.
The air was fresher. It carried the distant scent of greenery.
For the first time in a while, Rage found himself wondering what lay beyond. The world ahead felt vast, untouched by the weight of Firekeep's iron rule.
He exhaled. "Abyssal Tides, huh?" A new kingdom, a new queen, and probably another mess waiting for him.
Still, as his eyes lingered on the mountains ahead, he could not shake the feeling that, for the first time, he was stepping into something bigger than Firekeep's shadow.
A voice pulled him from his thoughts.
"Fancy seeing you here, boy."
Rage turned to see a guard leaning idly against a post, arms crossed, watching him with mild curiosity.
"Just spending the rest of my day," Rage replied.
The guard huffed a quiet chuckle but said nothing more.
Rage walked toward a lone bench beside the road, settling himself beneath the shade of a tree. The rustling leaves above swayed gently in the breeze, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow.
Time passed.
The sun dipped lower.
The distant mountains darkened against the sky. Their misty peaks faded into the approaching dusk. The road, once bustling, quieted as travelers hurried to their destinations before nightfall.
***
Night passed in silence.
By the time the first light of dawn reached the sky, the world was still dark. Torches burned along the stone walls. The air was cold from the night. The silence was broken only by the guards walking and talking quietly.
At the center of it all stood Ignia. She had her arms crossed and waited. Vera stayed beside her.
Rage hurried toward them. He had just woken up and rushed to the carriage.
Ignia called out as he came closer. "Hey, rat."
Something flew through the air.
Rage caught it without thinking. His fingers closed around the familiar weight of a long coat.
He lifted it, letting the fabric hang in his hands. It was worn but strong. It did not belong here. The material was thick but could move easily. The coat had a high collar and strong stitching along the seams. It was deep brown, almost black in low light. It was a battle coat, made for more than looks. It was made for survival.
Vera's eyes showed something, but she said nothing. She knew that coat. She recognized it right away. Still, she stayed quiet, watching as Rage turned it over on his shoulders.
Ignia threw something else toward him.
It was a small pendant with a red stone in the middle.
"You will need that."
Rage caught it.
"For what?"
"You will see."
***
The carriage moved slowly through the quiet morning. The air smelled of wet earth and salt.
Rage leaned against the window watching the landscape pass in silence.
Across from him, two familiar figures sat wrapped in cloaks. He had seen them before in Firekeep's war chamber. Now, closer, he could see them clearly.
The one on the left, Van, sat quietly, his face mostly hidden under his hat.
The other, Kyle, sat openly. His face showed age and experience.
Between them, a sealed parchment sat on the seat. Its wax seal caught the light.
Rage leaned back against the carriage wall, turning the pendant over in his fingers.
"Some guild receptionist is probably waiting at the next stop to hit them with an 'Ad Astra Abyssosque' and dump sixty more of those," he muttered to himself.
He did not ask what the parchment was for. He already knew how this worked.
The only other person was an old man in a thick, worn cloak. He sat quietly, calm and composed, the kind of stillness that comes with age and experience.
The carriage rocked gently. The only sounds were the creaking wood and the cries of waking birds.
Then the old man exhaled, his voice was steady but rough.
"Do you know the tale of the Kingmaker's Paradox?" he asked.
He exhaled again, eyes half-closed as if recalling a distant memory.
"There was once a king," he began. "Supreme. Unmatched. His empire stretched across the land. No rebellion could shake him, no army could break him."
He looked toward the window, watching the dawn spread across the land.
"But power is strange. It does not rest in those who hold it. It stays in the will of those who accept it."
He folded his hands in his lap.
"The King knew this better than anyone. He did not build his empire alone. He raised others, shaped rulers from the unworthy. He was not just a king. He was a Kingmaker."
The carriage swayed over a stone, but he did not pause.
"Yet a Kingmaker is never a king. The moment he takes the throne, he loses what made him great. The weight of rule binds him. The will to shape others fades. So the King did what no one expected."
His voice fell to a whisper, carried by the rhythm of the road.
"He vanished. No war. No betrayal. No fall. Just silence."
"And without him, his empire did not crumble, but it fell into doubt. The rulers he shaped stood alone, blind to their shared bond, each thinking they were the true heir."
The old man looked at Rage, his gaze heavy, knowing.
"But the world does not forget."
His fingers traced the fabric of his cloak.
"Some say the Kingmaker left more than an empire. One day, another will rise, not to rule, but to unite the rulers. To finish what was left undone."
He paused.
Then, softer, almost too quiet to hear.
"But what happens when the Kingmaker no longer wishes to make kings?"
The carriage rattled, the silence stretching.
Outside, the road to Abyssal Tides stretched ahead. None of them yet knew what awaited.
The first signs of the city appeared over the distant cliffs.
Rage caught a glimpse of the spires before the carriage jolted to a stop.
The horses neighed.
For a moment, all was quiet. Then the ground shook. A low tremor ran under the wheels.
A deep snarl rolled through the trees. Heavy footsteps crushed the undergrowth.
Rage sighed. "I expected this one."
The old manremained as he was, fingers lazily tapping his knee, completely unbothered.
Outside, the air thickened with the smell of blood.
Then they appeared.
Three huge ogres came out of the trees. Red eyes locked on the carriage with a sharp glare.
[SYSTEM] Bonecrusher Lv.40
[SYSTEM] class : Raider
[SYSTEM] hostility : 100%
At the front was a giant of pure muscle, almost a head taller than the others. His gray skin stretched over a body full of strength. A huge club, cracked and dark with dried blood, rested on one shoulder.
[SYSTEM] Fleshrender Lv.37
[SYSTEM] class : Raider
[SYSTEM] hostility : 100%
To his left moved a leaner ogre. His body was wrapped in leather straps and bones. His jagged teeth formed a sneer. Thick fingers held a rusted cleaver that looked taken from a battlefield. His scars were fresh, some still healing. Yet he stood with the confidence of a skilled hunter. His eyes moved between the carriage wheels and the road, looking for a weak spot to stop their prey.
[SYSTEM] Ironhide Lv.42
[SYSTEM] class : Raider
[SYSTEM] hostility : 100%
The three ogres moved forward, their slow steps kicking up dirt. They blocked the road with coordination and not blind charging. Bonecrusher took the center. Fleshrender stayed to the left, eyes on the carriage wheels. Ironhide moved right.
The road was no longer clear. It was a trap.
The driver reacted. He pulled the reins sharply, stopping the horses. Their hooves skidded on the dirt as they whinnied. He breathed fast, eyes moving between the ogres and the narrow space around them. There was no easy way through.
Rage stayed in his seat, watching as two figures stepped onto the road.
The two adventurers jumped from the carriage, their cloaks fell as they landed in the open.
Kyle stood broad and steady. A large shield rested on his left arm. He held a longsword in his right hand.
Van was lean and quiet. His dark leather armor fit close to his body. Twin daggers gleamed in his hands. His wide-brimmed hat still shaded part of his face.
Rage stepped out as well, stretching his shoulders.
Kyle turned his head slightly.
"This is not your burden, boy... Not yet."
Rage exhaled sharply, shoving his hands into his coat pockets. "Right."
The carriage creaked as it backed away further, the old man still seated inside, watching with mild amusement.
***
The moment the ogres lunged, the air cracked with their charge.
Kyle braced himself, feet digging into the dirt as Bonecrusher swung first. The massive club smashed through the space he had just left. Dust and gravel flew from the impact. He twisted his shield just as Ironhide came from the side.
A loud crash rang out as Ironhide's metal-wrapped fist hit the shield. The force drove Kyle back, boots skidding, but he stayed on his feet.
He pushed forward, using the shield to unbalance Ironhide. Then he pivoted and slashed with his sword, cutting into the ogre's thick hide.
Ironhide roared, staggering, but Bonecrusher swung again, club raised high.
Kyle lifted his shield at the right angle. When the club hit, it slid sideways.
Bonecrusher stumbled, the club smashing into the dirt.
Kyle drove his sword into Bonecrusher's side. The ogre bellowed and swung wildly. Kyle ducked as the club whistled over his head, then rolled away, narrowly avoiding Ironhide's follow-up.
Two against one. Kyle could handle it.
But he had no time to slow down.
***
Van moved before his target could react.
Fleshrender was fast for an ogre. Lean, scarred, and wielding a cleaver that had seen more blood than steel, it lunged with a grin.
Van blurred.
One moment he was there, the next he was gone.
The cleaver cut through empty air. The ogre spun, too slow. Van was behind it, daggers flashing in a quick arc across the back of its knee.
Blood sprayed. The ogre screamed and staggered.
Not enough. It twisted, swinging an elbow where Van had been, but he was gone again.
Fleshrender whirled, eyes wild, but Van had vanished into the shadows behind it. His wide-brimmed hat barely moved, steps silent, a shadow in the chaos.
The ogre panted, muscles tensed, unable to find him.
Van waited, then drove both daggers into its exposed ribs.
Fleshrender howled. Van twisted the blades, spraying more blood. The ogre dropped to a knee, not dead yet.
***
Kyle had no time to think. He only reacted.
Ironhide charged again, slamming its weight into him. Kyle planted his shield. The force rattled his bones, but he held.
He always held.
With precision, he angled the shield, deflecting the ogre to the side. Ironhide stumbled. Kyle stepped in low. His sword drove upward, piercing the ogre's exposed gut.
A gurgle. A twitch. A slump. Ironhide collapsed under its own weight.
No time to rest.
Bonecrusher roared, swinging wildly. Kyle raised his shield just in time, skidding back as the impact carved a trench into the dirt. His arms ached. His shield vibrated.
But he didn't waver.
Kyle pressed forward, ducked past a swing, and slashed across the ogre's chest. The cut was deep, not fatal, but enough. Bonecrusher stumbled. Kyle struck again, precise and ruthless. His sword went straight through the throat.
The ogre collapsed, blood spilling from its lips.
Kyle exhaled sharply, pulling his sword free.
He looked up and saw Van standing over Fleshrender's body, daggers still in its spine. Van rolled his shoulders like the fight had been easy.
Kyle huffed. "Took your time."
Van flicked the blood from his blades.
Kyle planted his sword in the dirt for a brief rest.
The road was clear.
Rage stood there, arms crossed, unscathed.
Kyle smirked. "Hell of a sight, wasn't it?"
Rage tilted his head. "Real masterpiece, old man."
Kyle snorted. "Next time, I'll let you try, if you think you can keep up."
He wiped his blade clean and sheathed it. Van slid his daggers into their sheaths after flicking the blood to the dirt. They gave a final glance at the fallen ogres and turned to the carriage.
The driver, still pale, flicked the reins. The horses lurched forward, and the battlefield faded into the distance.
The journey lasted nearly a full day.
Then the road sloped downward.
Ahead, still some distance away, Abyssal Tides came into view.
Its buildings clustered close together. Stone towers and wooden roofs rose from the ground. Smoke drifted from chimneys, and the air carried the faint scent of the nearby sea.
By the time the carriage reached the gates, it was already evening.
Guards stepped forward and checked the carriage before letting them through.
Rage leaned toward one of the guards. "Where can I stay for the night?"
The guard raised an eyebrow. "First time here?"
Rage nodded.
"Head to the Adventurer's Guild," the guard said, pointing down the main street. "They know the best."
***
The moment Rage stepped into the Abyssal Tides Adventurer's Guild, he already knew how this was going to play out.
Rowdy adventurers filled the guild hall, their voices were loud over clinking tankards. One claimed to have punched a wyvern to death, while another swore they had defeated a sea serpent with a spoon. Standard nonsense.
The quest board was suspiciously neat. Every parchment was perfectly arranged, written in impossibly tidy calligraphy.
Then there were the receptionists. They sighed between sentences, each movement carrying the unspoken thought that they weren't paid enough for the tasks they had to handle. They stared deadpan at the endless stream of adventurers with ridiculous requests.
"Let's get this over with," Rage muttered.
He made his way to the counter, fully expecting to be hit with an unnecessary side quest before actually getting any answers.
Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw them, Van and Kyle.
They stood at the front desk, handling a quest report. Van stayed silent, while Kyle spoke to the receptionist.
Rage wasn't planning to eavesdrop when his gaze fell on the parchment they were processing.
Two words stood out, Raiders and Protect.
A bag of coins hit the counter.
Rage narrowed his eyes.
They weren't just passing through during the trip.
Turning back to the receptionist, he leaned on the counter.
"Looking for two things," he said. "The queen's castle. And a bed."
The receptionist barely reacted, just giving him a long, tired look before sighing.
"Castle's at the highest point in the city. Taverns are everywhere. Depends if you want one that serves drinks or one where you won't get mugged."
"...Both?"
The receptionist motioned vaguely toward the street. "Try the Drifting Tide. A few streets down, past the second bridge."
Rage gave a short nod. "Appreciate it."
He glanced toward Kyle and Van one last time before heading out.
***
The Drifting Tide was quiet, well-kept, and surprisingly warm. No bloodstains, no brawls.
A rarity.
Rage stepped inside, expecting the usual tavern noise.
The tavern lady froze.
"...What?" Rage asked.
From the corner of his eye, he noticed them.
Their overhead tags didn't show Hostile, but their presence was intriguing.
Two shadowy figures lingered in the dim light. One sat at a table, the other leaned against the wall. Hooded and still, they watched from the shadows, their presence imminent.
Their forms blended into the background, but a slight movement beneath the fabric caught his eye. Small, sharp, instinctive.
A silent signal.
The tavern lady stiffened.
A second later, she straightened, forcing a polite smile. "Ah, apologies. You're... looking for a room?"
"...Yeah?"
She didn't hesitate. "A room is available. Right this way."
No questions. No price negotiation.
Rage followed, casting a last glance around. The two figures stayed still.
They never acknowledged him.
But they didn't need to. Their message was already been sent.
Rage exhaled. "Of course."
[SYSTEM] Queen Ignia : Loyalty 98.3%
[SYSTEM] Corruption : 13.4%