Dawn began to appear on the horizon, golden light slipping over the kingdom's towering walls.
At the great gate, thousands of soldiers had gathered. Each division stood under the command of its own leader, and the atmosphere was charged with the solemnity of the coming war.
Commander Sirvan stood before his troops, mounted on his horse.
His sharp eyes swept across the battlefield with unwavering focus.
His first deputy, Zeylan, approached him.
A talented and disciplined warrior, Zeylan had short black hair and a scar running across his left cheek, as though it were a permanent testament to battles long forgotten.
His green eyes reflected an unbreakable determination.
His energy carried the opposing forces of fire and ice.
He spoke formally:
"Commander Sirvan, all units are ready. They're awaiting your order."
Sirvan smiled faintly.
"Excellent... And what about Commander Eyria? What about the rest of her soldiers?"
"She's still preparing her forces, but they're almost ready to depart."
Sirvan chuckled lightly.
"As always... precise even in war."
Then he raised his voice.
His powerful cry echoed through the gates:
"SOLDIERS OF THE KINGDOM!"
The entire army fell silent.
"We march to reclaim our land from the jaws of darkness!"
His eyes hardened.
"The enemy is before us... and our homeland is behind us!"
He raised his sword.
"Let us show them the strength of those who defend their home!"
The gates erupted with the soldiers' cries.
Thousands of swords rose toward the sky, their edges gleaming beneath the morning sun...
As though bearing witness to a vow made before them all.
From a distance, Eyria watched the scene with a proud smile.
She stood tall among her elite soldiers, dressed in white armor embroidered with silver threads.
Her voice rang out with confidence:
"FORWARD!"
Sirvan's forces began moving first.
Nearly twenty thousand soldiers marched beneath his command, followed closely by Eyria's disciplined elite forces.
The unified army shook the earth beneath the rhythm of their footsteps.
Behind the walls, the people raised their voices:
"Drive the monsters from our land!"
"Commander Sirvan! We're with you!"
The Royal Palace
Inside the palace, the King stood behind a large window, watching the army depart.
Beside him stood the General, his ministers, and the Captain of the Royal Guard.
The morning sun reflected against the King's golden crown.
He remained silent.
Yet his presence alone filled the chamber with authority.
One of the ministers spoke anxiously:
"Your Majesty... Is it wise to divide our forces during this campaign? It could weaken our army."
The King answered calmly.
But his voice carried a weight that left no room for argument.
"You have no idea how dangerous our enemy is."
He continued watching the army.
"If we want to reclaim Canria, we must surround it from every direction and crush them using multiple strategies..."
His eyes narrowed.
"Not with a single force."
Everyone nodded.
But the concern remained on their faces.
The Medical Wing
Inside the palace's medical wing, Mark and Nero stood beside a window, watching the soldiers leave.
Mark spoke quietly:
"I hope Sirvan and Eyria... and my student... return safely."
Nero answered confidently:
"Trust them. They've survived the worst."
He smiled.
"They'll return for something better."
His eyes then shifted toward Kartithia.
She was laughing and playing, seemingly unaware of the weight hanging over the kingdom.
Meanwhile, Aether sat alone in the corner.
His face was pale.
His expression was still.
Mark watched him with concern.
"Aether... He's getting worse. Ever since what happened..."
He paused.
"He's no longer the same child."
Nero answered calmly:
"It's natural for him to grieve. He watched his mother and brother die in front of him..."
He glanced toward Kartithia.
"But you also know that Kartithia survived because of her mother's spirit. Since her mother was connected to the light, she was able to transfer her energy to her."
Nero's expression softened.
"That allowed her to endure the pain differently."
Mark lowered his gaze.
"I know..."
He remained silent for a moment.
Then asked hesitantly:
"Do you think he's ready... for me to train him?"
Nero's expression became serious.
"Aether stood in the middle of monsters, surrounded by blood and falling corpses, while the screams of people filled the horizon..."
He looked toward the six-year-old boy.
"And he didn't cry."
A pause.
"That alone tells you he's ready, even if he's only six years old."
Mark sighed.
A sorrowful smile appeared on his face as he looked toward his young son.
"You're right..."
He paused.
"I'll begin training him tomorrow."
At that moment, sunlight reflected across Aether's eyes.
For a brief instant, they seemed to contain something strange...
Something beyond a child's grief.
A silence that carried an unknown mystery.
A silence that seemed to whisper that tomorrow would not simply be the beginning of training...
It would be the beginning of his destiny.