The Red Emerald Fortress rose over the upper plateau as if it had been carved from the heart of an angry mountain.
Its dark walls swallowed light instead of reflecting it, and its sharp towers rose toward the sky like claws trying to tear the clouds.
No one approached the fortress without feeling the air grow heavier… as if the place itself was watching.
Inside, emerald torches spread a strange light that did not warm anything… but revealed everything.
Every corner, every column, every stone carried the traces of a kingdom built on wars, blood, and laws that spared no weakling.
The air smelled of iron, old ink, and incense taken from forbidden forests.
The throne hall was too wide to measure.
The ceiling rose into a darkness that had no clear end, as if the hall stretched into an eternal void.
The walls were decorated with grim carvings showing past kings holding the heads of their enemies, and the emblems of clans that vanished under the might of the Red Emerald.
In the center of the hall, a deep red carpet ran toward a black stone platform holding the throne.
Corval's throne—carved from a meteor that fell hundreds of years ago—was said to carry the echo of spirits that died under its burning fall.
The throne was cold… but anyone who looked at it felt something strange:
authority, fear, and a promise that whoever sat on it would not live long unless they were harsher than the claws surrounding it.
On this particular night, the place was heavier than usual.
The emerald flames flickered in an unstable way, as if they feared what would be spoken or summoned.
Even the guards looked more rigid than normal, as if something was hiding in the shadows and listening.
The entire palace was waiting…
as if the stones themselves expected the start of the storm that would change the kingdom forever.
King Corval sat straight like the edge of a blade, his eyes two cuts of merciless night.
Around him stood the attendees—everyone with power, influence, or authority within the Red Emerald Kingdom.
The nobles: Lord Rothgar, Lord Edmund, Lord Alfric, Lord Maric, and Lady Elvira.
Clan leaders: Han Long, Wei Jin, Zhao Ling.
Sect leaders: Arkadius, Seraphine Val, Maldren the Silent, Mother Strain.
Merchants:
the head of the Elmort Traders Guild,
the head of the Northshore Traders Guild,
and the head of the Blood and Gold Traders Guild.
Everyone was here… but no one was with anyone else.
The discussion began.
Corval spoke in a low voice that cut through the air like a blade:
"Our eastern borders are moving. The wind of war arrived before our armies did… but I don't want wind. I want a storm.
Today we discuss the invasion of the Kingdom of Ostrandan.
Whoever has something that is not useless may begin."
Lord Rothgar:
"Your Majesty, Ostrandan's forces are gathered at the northern forts. They expect an attack from there.
If we move our army through the Black Ravines Pass, we can reach their capital before they realize we bypassed their defenses."
Corval gave a cold smile:
"You suggest we sneak in like bandits?"
Rothgar:
"In a world that respects only the victor, military honor is pointless."
The nobles nodded, but their eyes shone with malice… each one waiting for the other to make a mistake.
Han Long, chief of the Han Clan:
"Your Majesty… I have thirty warriors ready to advance through the ravines. They know the terrain better than any army."
Wei Jin looked at him with a stiff smile:
"Thirty? Or thirty pieces of bait? His Majesty needs men who return… not ghosts hanging in a canyon."
Han Long answered calmly, dripping poison:
"My men do not return because they finish what they start."
Corval:
"Enough. You are not here to compare the lengths of your daggers."
Seraphine Val, leader of the Silver Ash Sect:
"King of the Red Emerald… our sect proposes using the Suppression Ring, the spell that chokes energy flow on a large scale.
If cast on the capital's area, it will paralyze their spiritual guards."
Arkadius laughed coldly:
"Your spell consumes half of the kingdom's supply of blood crystal. An expensive… and suspicious idea."
Seraphine:
"War is expensive. Every victory costs something.
But losing costs far more."
Maldren the Silent did not speak… he only raised a sealed scroll.
Corval:
"Open it."
The guards opened it.
Inside was a detailed map showing supply routes between Ostrandan and its allied kingdoms.
Corval:
"I see you have been busy in the shadows…"
Maldren bowed slowly.
His silence said more than words. Some people understood he had eyes inside the enemy kingdom… or perhaps he was spying on people inside this hall.
The merchants spoke next.
The Elmort guild leader:
"Your Majesty… if you want a short war, I can cut the food and equipment routes heading to Ostrandan.
Your enemies will speak of your bravery… while they starve."
The Northshore guild leader:
"But that will hurt our trade too. Market collapse will cause unrest here."
The Blood and Gold guild leader, polishing his heavy ring:
"Unrest is not always a bad thing…
Chaos creates new doors for profit."
Hidden glances moved between them…
It was clear the merchants were fighting each other more than they were fighting Ostrandan.
Corval cut through everything.
He raised his hand, and all voices stopped.
"You all show loyalty… and hide betrayal.
Good.
That means you are still alive in this world."
He stepped down from the throne platform, moving like a tiger testing the ground.
"I will not allow a war like this to rely on your ambitions alone.
I will make the plan… and you will carry it out.
And whoever hides a dagger in his shadow… must hide it well.
If I find it… I will hang him from the gates of this fortress to remind the others."
No one trembled… because everyone had learned that trembling meant death.