The ruins stretched endlessly, a graveyard of crumbling towers and roads devoured by moss. Vines hung like curtains, stone arches leaned as if ready to fall, and silence pressed against the ears of those who dared enter.
A group of bandits picked their way through the wreckage, boots crunching over gravel. Their leader swaggered at the front, a tall man with an eyepatch strapped across his left eye and a badly kept beard. He swung his sword like a cane, whistling tunelessly.
"Eyes open, you dung-brains," he barked, his tone dripping with arrogance. "Boss said to scout. That means forward, not gawking like spooked children."
Behind him, his men trudged reluctantly.
"Overconfident fool," one whispered.
"Yeah," another muttered, "only reason he's captain is because he licks the leader's boots clean."
"Bet he wouldn't last a minute without us covering his back."
Their muffled snickers rose, but the captain didn't hear the words—only the sound. He spun around, glaring with his good eye.
"You think something's funny? Keep quiet! This place gives me the creeps already."
The men straightened, though smirks lingered as they shuffled after him.
Still, the ruins weighed heavily on them. Empty windows gaped like hollow eyes. Cracks in the stone looked like claw marks. None of them said it aloud, but every step made them feel as though the ruins themselves were watching.
Within Kairo's territory, dawn brought a different scene. The walls rose proudly against the backdrop of ruin, fresh-cut wood and stone gleaming faintly in the early light. At the gate, dragon-blooded kabolts stood alert, their scaled hands tightening on spears as they scanned the misty horizon.
Inside, Kairo stirred. His body ached from yesterday's training, stiffness pulling at his shoulders. He stretched, jaw cracking with a yawn.
"Ugh. Shouldn't have let Shiri talk me into that…"
Beside him stood Onyx, motionless as always, violet eyes faintly glowing.
"You never rest, do you?" Kairo muttered. "Guarding me all night again."
Onyx tilted his head but said nothing, only stepping forward to follow as Kairo rose.
The young lord walked the perimeter, eyes tracing the walls, then checked the food shed. Empty. He frowned and checked the second storage where meat was usually hung, made when Shiri had some free time from working on the walls. Also empty.
"Great," he muttered. "Not even breakfast left."
He pushed open the door of the small house. Inside, Shiri and Theo were still curled up on their mats. Kairo leaned against the doorframe.
"I'm going hunting. Don't set anything on fire while I'm gone."
Theo stirred, rubbing his eyes blearily. "H-Hunting? Can I—"
"No," Kairo cut him off gently. "Stay here. Rest. You'll need energy for training later."
Theo slumped back down, muttering, "Big bro's no fun…" before drifting again.
Shiri grunted without opening his eyes. "Bring back something good…"
Kairo sighed, shutting the door behind him. "Hopeless."
He summoned three of the seven kabolts he had stationed outside. They appeared at his side, reptilian bodies taut with energy, weapons ready.
"Alright," Kairo said. "You're with me. Time to see how sharp you really are."
They didn't need to go far. Just a few minutes from the base, a small pack of monsters stirred among broken pillars: wolf-like creatures with matted hides, Tier 1 beasts led by a bulkier alpha with jagged horns—a Tier 2.
Kairo raised his hand, the Command Nexus humming to life before his eyes. "Formation: Shield Wall."
The kabolts snapped into position. Two shifted forward, shields raised high, feet digging into the dirt. The third took position just behind, spear angled low.
"Advance."
The formation moved as one, shields locked, steps steady.
The wolves howled and lunged. The first slammed into a shield, jaws snapping, only to be shoved back with bone-cracking force. Another darted to the side, but the second shield bashed sideways, knocking it to the ground where the spearman thrust down, piercing its throat.
The Tier 2 roared and charged. The kabolts braced, shields sinking into the soil. The impact rattled the air, a deafening clash of muscle against formation. For a heartbeat, the wall shook—then held.
"Push!" Kairo ordered.
The kabolts shoved back in unison, opening a gap. The spearman slid forward, weapon flashing. The point sank beneath the Tier 2's jaw, bursting through the back of its skull.
The beast crumpled. The remaining wolves scattered, only to be hunted down with ruthless efficiency—one split by a downward shield slam, another skewered mid-leap.
The ground ran slick with blood.
Kairo lowered his hand, satisfied. "Good. You're sharper than I thought."
The kabolts stood breathing hard but steady, formation intact.
"Gather the corpses," Kairo commanded. "We'll use them for supplies."
As they obeyed, movement caught Kairo's eye. Figures. Human silhouettes moving among the ruins.
The bandit scouts had climbed a low ridge and spotted it before Kairo even noticed them—the wall. Fresh, tall, and bristling with guards. Their laughter and whispers faded as dread settled in.
"What the hell…?" one muttered.
"Someone's building in there. In these ruins?" another whispered.
"Look!" a third pointed. "That kid—he's not alone. Those monsters are with him."
The scout captain stepped forward, his one eye wide. Then he snarled. "They're not attacking him. That means… he's a lord."
The word struck the men like lightning. A lord—here, in the ruins?
"Boss won't like this," someone muttered.
"We should retreat—" another started.
But steel rasped as the captain drew his sword. "Retreat? Don't make me laugh! We kill him now, before he gathers more strength."
Weapons came free—swords, axes, daggers gleaming in the dim light.
On the other side, the kabolts dropped the monster carcasses, snapping back into formation with practiced discipline. Shields raised. Spears leveled. Their scaled faces twisted into snarls.
Kairo's mind raced. (Humans. Bandits, armed, organized. And they know what I am…)
He lifted his hand slowly, the Command Nexus pulsing in his vision, waiting for orders.
The ruins fell silent again, the air thick and heavy with tension.
On one side stood Kairo and his kabolts, wall of scales and iron.
On the other, the bandit scouts bristled with steel, their eyepatched leader shouting for blood.
The first real clash between lord and men was about to ignite.