The wind came first.
A dry, heavy wind that carried with it the smell of iron and ash.
The sentries atop the walls of Dara felt it before they saw it.
Then, on the horizon, dust began to rise.
At first, it was a small cloud.
Then another.
Until the entire horizon seemed to disappear behind an immense curtain of dust.
In the distance, beneath the white midday sun, the Imperial army appeared.
One hundred and fifty thousand men advanced in perfect formation.
They did not shout.
They did not need to.
Thousands of shields reflected the sunlight as crimson banners waved above the columns.
Behind the legions came the siege engines, enormous metal structures powered by mana crystals.
And above them...
The Crown Winged Wyverns.
The draconic beasts crossed the sky in orderly formations, carrying Imperial riders of level fifty or higher.
The sound of their wings mixed with the drums of the legions.
It was a continuous roar.
As if the ground itself trembled at the Empire's arrival.
From the main tower, the soldiers of Carpathia remained silent.
The bells began to ring.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
They announced that the enemy had arrived.
From the upper platform, King Felipe Erkhan watched the Imperial tide alongside Duke Laurence Douglas and several members of the court.
No one spoke.
Finally, Felipe pointed toward one of the banners advancing at the front.
—The seventh princess.
Laurence narrowed his eyes.
—Naira.
Felipe nodded.
—Then they haven't come solely to conquer.
Laurence looked at him.
—Do you think they still want to negotiate?
—If they didn't, they would already be attacking.
As if the king's words had been a signal, a figure separated from the Imperial lines.
A rider advanced toward the walls beneath a white flag.
Hours later, an Imperial herald arrived at the gates of Carpathia.
He carried an invitation sealed with the emblem of the Three Suns.
The seventh Imperial princess, Naira Ferrussi Becker, requested a meeting with King Felipe Erkhan.
Before dawn.
Felipe accepted.
The meeting took place on the Darn Plains, a barren stretch of land between the two armies.
A large white tent had been erected in the middle of the field.
It belonged to neither side.
At least, officially.
When Felipe arrived accompanied by Laurence and a small group of knights, Naira was already waiting.
The princess wore dark mithril armor covered in Imperial runes.
Her black hair moved gently in the wind.
Around her, the air seemed to move in rhythm with her breathing.
She was not merely a princess.
She was an Epsilon-affinity warrior.
The heir to the Empire.
And everyone inside the tent knew it.
Naira gave a slight bow.
—Your Majesty.
Felipe responded with a nod.
—Your Highness.
There were no unnecessary courtesies.
Naira took a seat.
—I will be direct.
Laurence remained standing beside the king.
—We would appreciate that.
Naira placed one hand on the table.
—The Empire does not wish to destroy Carpathia.
Felipe did not respond.
—My father is willing to end this war before it begins.
Laurence let out a small laugh.
—And in exchange?
Naira looked at him.
—Lusian Douglas.
Silence fell instantly.
Felipe's expression did not change.
But Laurence felt his jaw tighten.
Naira continued:
—Hand over the young Lusian, and the Empire will grant you its forgiveness.
Felipe narrowed his eyes.
—Forgiveness?
—You will keep your lands, your titles, and your crown.
Naira spoke with absolute confidence.
—There will be no looting. No occupation. No destruction of your cities.
Laurence stared at her.
—Princess... do you understand what you are asking?
Naira held his gaze.
—He is the person my father wants.
Laurence understood something then that the Empire still had not.
This war could no longer be avoided.
Not because Carpathia had rejected the ultimatum.
But because the Empire had set its sights on a Douglas.
And the Douglas did not abandon their own.
It did not matter whether it was a duke, a knight, or a child.
It did not matter how powerful the enemy was.
If one of them was claimed, all of them would answer.
Laurence clenched his fists.
Felipe remained thoughtful.
—And what will happen to the Douglas?
Naira did not answer immediately.
—They will retain their titles as long as they accept Imperial authority.
Laurence stepped forward.
—Hand over Lusian?
His voice was low.
Too low.
Naira held his gaze.
—That is the condition for avoiding war.
Laurence let out a dry laugh.
—Then you understood nothing.
Naira's expression hardened.
—Watch your words.
The mana around Laurence began to stir.
—No.
His gaze turned cold.
—You watch yours.
He took another step.
—No Douglas will ever be handed over to the Empire.
Naira frowned.
—You are in no position to reject an Imperial order.
—An order?
Laurence smiled humorlessly.
—You have come to my land, demanded one of our own, and now you intend to call it an order.
His hand slowly clenched.
—You will never touch a Douglas.
The silence grew heavy.
Felipe let out a long sigh.
—How naive...
Naira turned toward him.
—Excuse me?
Felipe slowly shook his head.
Not because of the threat.
But because of the naivety of the proposal.
The Erkhan have spent generations trying to change the Douglas in secret.
They had tried to negotiate with them.
They had even tried to convince them to abandon some of their old customs.
They had always failed.
And now the Empire expected to accomplish it in a single conversation.
Felipe suppressed a sigh.
They don't understand the Douglas.
Do they really think sending a princess is enough to make Sophia hand over her son?
Naira remained serious.
—I know the power of the Empire —she said.
Felipe studied her for several seconds.
So young.
So confident.
She was accustomed to others lowering their heads before her. To her name alone being enough to end an argument.
But she had made a mistake.
She was not in the Empire.
—The power of the Empire is undeniable —Felipe replied calmly—. But power does not always get what it wants.
Naira narrowed her eyes.
—My father is not accustomed to hearing no.
Laurence stepped forward.
—Then he will have to get used to it.
The mana around him began to stir slightly.
Naira looked at him coldly.
—Do you think you can defy the Empire?
Laurence held her gaze.
—No.
A dangerous smile appeared on his face.
—I think the Empire has just made the mistake of threatening the Douglas.
The air seemed to grow heavier.
Felipe remained silent.
This was exactly what he feared.
And, at the same time, exactly what he needed.
Because he now understood something that could prove far more valuable than any treaty.
The Empire was not willing to negotiate over Lusian.
And neither were the Douglas.
The war had just acquired a much clearer objective.
Felipe turned his gaze toward Naira.
—You can return to your father and tell him that Carpathia will hear his terms.
The princess raised an eyebrow.
—Even after this?
—Even after this.
Felipe paused briefly.
—But there is one condition we cannot accept.
Naira already knew the answer.
—Lusian.
Laurence answered before him.
—Never.
Felipe did not contradict him.
Naira remained motionless.
For the first time since arriving in Carpathia, she understood that there was something her title, her blood, and the power of the Empire could not buy.
The loyalty of the Douglas.
And that was a force she had not yet learned to fear.
Felipe watched as the princess left the tent.
Only after the fabric fell shut behind Naira did Felipe's expression change.
Laurence looked at him.
—Do you think they will attack?
Felipe turned his gaze toward the horizon.
—Yes.
—Then we must prepare to defend Dara.
Felipe remained silent for several seconds.
Then he looked at the map.
There was something there.
Something Laurence could not understand.
—Dara must hold.
Laurence frowned.
—For how long?
Felipe did not answer immediately.
His eyes moved across the positions on the map.
—Long enough.
—For what?
Felipe raised his eyes.
—Not yet.
Laurence remained silent.
The king looked at Dara again.
—We are not ready yet.
Those four words were enough.
Laurence understood that there was something more behind that fortress.
A plan.
A possibility.
But it was still incomplete.
And in the meantime, Dara would have to hold.
Felipe slowly clenched his fist around the edge of the table.
—We cannot allow it to fall too soon.
Outside, the Imperial drums began to sound.
Laurence looked toward the horizon.
One hundred and fifty thousand soldiers were preparing to advance.
And they needed only one thing.
Time.