The once-proud banners of Fenrir, bearing the sigil of a roaring wolf under a crescent moon, now hung at half-mast—frayed by fire, beaten by wind, humbled by truth.
Fenrir, once the icy spear of the north, stood in silence.
Its soldiers, now scattered and leaderless, had returned to their homes to find their kingdom changed—not by destruction, but by revelation. The crimson storm they had once called Princess had risen not as their future queen, but as the embodiment of a myth—the Bloody War Maiden, reincarnation of Goddess Shalltear.
And the man they had called King Scarfin, stood no longer above them.
In the Grand Courtyard of the Cathedral, where the war council once conspired, Nova stood beneath the arching marble gate, his cloak trailing the dust of a conquered throne. At his side, Scarlet remained silent—a calm sea after the storm. Liora perched high on the steeple, her wings outstretched in silent vigil.
Below them, King Scarfin stood stripped of his crown.
Not broken. But silent.
"You will not be executed," Nova's voice echoed like a gavel, "but you will no longer rule."
"You stole a child, twisted truth, and built a kingdom from another's pain. For that, you will walk among your people—not as king, but as a man."
Scarfin lowered his eyes. For the first time in decades, he looked… small. Just a man weighed down by borrowed power. He nodded, stepping down from the throne, placing the obsidian crown at Nova's feet.
Scarlet watched with glassy eyes. She did not speak. Her silence was judgment enough.
Then came Od Warsaw.
The Brawler King.
The Hammer of Fenrir.
The one who once claimed he would exterminate Thelara.
His footsteps thundered through the marble hall like war drums. His eyes—black as midnight—glared at Scarlet. But his fists, always clenched in challenge… now trembled.
"I refuse to kneel to a kingdom of cowards—"
Scarlet took one step forward.
One.
Her gaze glinted crimson—not rage, but reminder.
And Od Warsaw fell to his knees.
Not because his bones betrayed him… but because his soul remembered what it feared.
"The Bloody War Maiden is not a story," Nova said, his voice low and cold, "She is truth. And she fights beside us."
Od bowed his head.
"Then I pledge the Warsaw bloodline to Thelara… May we never be on the wrong side again."
And so, the northern lands shifted.
Fenrir was merged—not conquered—into a unified alliance with Martha, overseen by Thelara. It became a twin kingdom system, where trade, military, and magical research would flow between the three as rivers from a single mountain.
Scarfin, now just Eron, walked the village paths of his former capital, occasionally watched but not feared. There was no revenge. Only justice.
The people—long loyal to strength—now saw strength in something else: truth.
Atop the Watchtower of Fenrir, days later…
Nova stood with Scarlet, watching the clouds roll in from the mountains.
"Was it right?" she asked.
Nova wrapped an arm around her waist. "We didn't burn them. We healed them. That's harder. But better."
Scarlet smiled faintly. Her hand rested over her heart, where her mother's power slept like a distant star.
"Then let them write this day in history," she whispered.
"The day kingdoms bowed, not from fear of war…"
"…but from awe of what we've become."
"Let's go and find the truth.....
To be continued.