Prologue
General Balliard ran a hand over his neatly trimmed beard as he stared at the tactical map projected before him.
Dozens of miniatures hovered over the surface—soldiers, watchtowers, caravan routes.
Three outposts lost in one week.
No magical signals.
No screams.
No bodies.
Only silence.
"This isn't an invasion…" he muttered. "It's a controlled disappearance."
A voice came from the outer hallway—urgent, breathless.
"General, we just received word: the reinforcement convoy from Valia… it's gone."
Balliard clenched his jaw.
He slammed his fist onto the table, shaking the magical figures as if he could force them to obey.
"Damn it…! No one outside High Command even knew about that convoy!"
He turned to his nearest captain.
"This isn't random. We've got a mole. Someone's watching us from inside… and they're erasing everything before we even know how to fight back."
The room fell into silence.
Even the communication crystals were beginning to emit static.
And far above the city of Arkenfel, a dense mist began to descend.
Not natural.
Not weather.
Just… presence.
Suddenly, the bells rang out across the city.
A unified signal.
There was only one meaning:
Arkenfel was under attack.
"General! We've got a major problem—!" a soldier burst in, panting, handing him a spyglass.
Balliard rushed to the window.
As he focused the lens, his face turned to stone.
Beyond the outer walls, through the thickening fog, a silhouette emerged.
An army.
Vast.
Unimaginable.
Skeletons.
Orcs.
Goblins.
Warped beasts with no names and no right to exist.
And they were marching.
In formation.
The spyglass slipped from his fingers… Shattering against the stone floor.
"Sound the alarm! Mobilize the Paladin Brigade! Get the dragons in the air! Archers to every tower! Call the heroes—every damn adventurer we've got! All troops to the west gate, NOW!"
The room exploded into motion.
But before leaving, Balliard grabbed the arm of a dark-haired youth who was rushing toward the exit.
"Not you, Marko."
The boy turned, confused.
Balliard removed a ring engraved with their family crest and placed it in his son's hand.
"I want you to take a dragon and fly straight to Valia. Find General August—tell him we need the heroes. Then head to Varka. Tell the king we need reinforcements. All of them. Now."
"But… Dad…"
Balliard didn't answer with words.
Only a firm hand on his son's shoulder.
Strong.
Desperate.
"This ring will make you undetectable. Fly high—above the clouds. No matter what happens… Do not come back here unless I say so."
The boy swallowed hard, and nodded.
"Yes, sir."
Balliard gently pushed him toward the exit.
"Go."
And then he stood there.
Alone.
Watching the horizon…
As the end of Arkenfel marched toward him.
"May Yoru protect us…"