The kingdom of Ashen was no longer the same.
The ashes of the royal fire still littered the streets and squares, and the stone of the towers bore the scars of the last battle.
The lands, once fertile and prosperous, had become uncultivable. Lava, fire, and explosions of magic had corrupted the soil down to its roots.
The inhabitants were slowly rebuilding what had been lost, but a pressing question remained: where could they feed the people?
The only cultivable land nearby was infested with demons and monsters, remnants of ancient wars and creatures drawn to the corruption.
Every attempt to reclaim or farm the land was perilous, and the risk of human and draconic losses was immense.
At the top of the palace, Ryo observed the kingdom from the now-empty throne, surrounded by the Guardians he had created.
They stood in silence, flawless and motionless, like living sculptures.
Their presence imposed an invisible order, a reminder that the throne was protected, even if the people still doubted.
> "Ashen will rise..." Ryo murmured, his voice echoing through the empty hall.
"But rebuilding stones is not enough. The will must be restored, those who threaten our lands must be driven back, and we must find soil where the people can thrive."
In the streets, dragons and humans worked side by side, some still wary, others fascinated by the strange aura emanating from the throne and its Guardians.
Even the members of the draconic council, skeptical and cautious, could not deny the presence of this new silent authority.
Ryo turned, his gaze drifting over the horizon where the mountains still smoked.
The kingdom was being rebuilt. But beyond the walls and stones, one question remained: how could they secure the only fertile land and ensure the survival of Ashen?
And somewhere, in the shadows of the city, eyes watched, calculated, and waited.