The Shattered Kingdoms lay in uneasy silence. Smoke curled from distant villages, scorched by veils of war, and the sky hung low, heavy with ash and the scent of old blood. Rumors of Kael's awakening had spread faster than fire across dry timber, whispers carried on the wind that the Crimson Brand had returned. Some feared it, others prayed for it, but all knew that the balance of power was tipping.
Kael stood atop the ruins of what had once been a border fortress, Ashrend sheathed at his side, its faint red glow pulsing like a heartbeat. Around him, Lyra, Darric, and Isryn moved cautiously, their eyes scanning the horizon. The companions had survived the cataclysmic clash with Kaelen, yet the victory had come at a cost—the land itself bore scars, and the Black Host's remnants stirred in the shadows.
"Kael," Lyra said, her voice steady but laced with unease, "the Shattered Kingdoms… they're falling apart faster than we anticipated. Nobles are squabbling, mercenaries taking what they want, and… there are reports of new Veilspawn raiding the outer reaches."
Kael's gaze didn't waver. "Then we act. We don't wait for chaos to consume what remains. Every strike we make must count. No mercy for those who bring ruin."
Darric clenched his fists. "That's easier said than done. The Black Host is fractured, but they've regrouped under new lieutenants. I've heard names… cruel men and women, all seeking to claim Malrik's remnants as their own."
Isryn stepped closer, her staff glinting under the fading light. "And the Sovereigns themselves… some have begun to recognize you. Not openly, yet in secret councils, their eyes are on the Brand. Kael, your name will not remain hidden much longer."
Kael's jaw tightened. The words carried both warning and opportunity. Recognition by the ancient orders meant one thing: he would no longer operate in shadows. He would be challenged, hunted, and tested as never before—but it also meant the path to reclaiming balance had begun in earnest.
A distant horn echoed, signaling the approach of a new threat. From the eastern ridge, a squadron of armored cavalry charged, their banners black with violet sigils—the mark of one of Malrik's former lieutenants, a general known as Draxen the Iron Wolf. Kael's eyes narrowed.
"Prepare yourselves," he said. "They think us weakened. They think the Brand is spent."
Lyra nocked an arrow, Darric readied his shield, and Isryn's wards shimmered with protective light. Kael stepped forward, Ashrend in hand, flames licking along the blade's edge. The air around him thickened, charged with crimson energy, the Brand responding to his focus and intent.
The Iron Wolf's squadron descended in a wave of steel and fury. Kael met their first charge head-on, executing Crimson Flash Strike, slicing through armored ranks with precision. Each motion was a blend of blade and aura, a symphony of power honed through countless battles.
Lyra's arrows rained from above, finding gaps in armor, while Darric intercepted smaller units, smashing shields and cutting down those who pressed too close. Isryn's spells wove around them, reinforcing defenses and amplifying their strikes. Yet the enemy kept coming, relentless, their numbers vast and their determination fierce.
Kael's eyes burned brighter as the Brand surged. With a roar, he invoked Sovereign's Wrath, a combination of flame and red lightning that erupted outward, carving a path through the cavalry, sending riders and mounts tumbling. The companions pressed forward, their cohesion impeccable, moving as a single unit while Kael led the charge.
In the chaos, Kael glanced at his companions. Lyra's eyes met his for a fleeting moment, unspoken acknowledgment passing between them. Darric's steady presence reinforced Kael's resolve, while Isryn's quiet confidence anchored the team's formation. The bond between them had deepened, forged in fire, shadow, and blood.
As the dust settled, the battlefield littered with bodies, Kael stood tall, Ashrend still glowing, his chest marked by the Brand. The Iron Wolf lay defeated, his armor shattered, his ambitions ended in a single decisive clash.
Kael sheathed Ashrend. "This is only the beginning," he said. "Every faction, every order… they will test us. But together, we will face them all."
The companions regrouped, weary but alive, their unity stronger than ever. The Shattered Kingdoms awaited, full of treachery, war, and the shadows of sovereign ambitions—but Kael, the Brand, and his allies were ready.
The first chapter of Volume III set the stage: civil war, rival claimants, and the rise of a new power that would shake kingdoms and challenge destinies.