In the Emperor's Grand Chamber
The light of dawn streamed through the high, arched windows of the imperial palace, casting long shadows across the obsidian floor. Isla sat upon the obsidian throne, one leg draped over the armrest, his gaze distant as he stared out across the capital. A cold smirk played on his lips.
With a flick of his fingers, he summoned Val.
"Bring me the commanders of the Second and Third Divisions," Isla ordered, his voice soft but laced with authority.
Moments later, two figures knelt before him—the towering Herald, commander of the Second Division, clad in darkened steel, and the enigmatic Snow Knight, commander of the Third, her icy armor glinting with enchantments.
Isla's voice echoed through the hall, sharp and commanding.
"Go east. To the barbarian plains."
His words hung heavy in the air.
"Bring the builders with you. Wipe out the scattered tribes. Burn their banners. Set up a stronghold in the heart of their land."
He leaned forward, eyes gleaming.
"And don't touch the beast kingdom yet"
"Yes, Your Majesty," both knights responded in unison, then rose and departed with military precision.
Barbarian Plains – Eastern Frontier
The ground trembled beneath the march of imperial might.
Over 15,000 soldiers, armored and disciplined, advanced in perfect formation across the vast barbarian plains. Their banners flapped in the wind like wings of conquest. Behind them followed an army of 5,000 imperial builders, drafted from across the realm—engineers, craftsmen, architects—all prepared to carve a fortress from raw land and spilled blood.
The barbarian tribes had long been ignored by the Empire. As long as they remained on their side of the border, their existence was tolerated. But that era had ended.
Now, under the will of Emperor, no land was to be left unconquered. Beasts, elves, dragons, demons—all would bow beneath the Empire's banner.
And soon, when the blood settles and the stone is laid, a new noble will rise—crowned not by birthright, but by conquest.
Karvak Tribe
Barbarian Plains — Karvak Territory
"Chief, Empire soldiers have been seen crossing the border," a tribesman reported urgently.
"Leave them be," replied Norgai, the chieftain of the Karvak Tribe, his voice calm. "It's not the first time they've wandered here."
"This time is different," the scout insisted. "Their numbers… more than the eyes can count."
A heavy silence fell over the chief's tent.
Norgai rose slowly from his seat, his instincts sharpening.
"Let's go. I want to see it for myself."
The Karvak Tribe, once rivaling the now-extinct Varnak Tribe, had long been one of the largest surviving tribes of the eastern plains. But unlike Mogul, the Varnak chief who died fighting the Snow Knight, Norgai was cautious and calculating. He had kept his people alive not through brute strength, but by staying clear of the Empire's path whenever possible.
Though they were many, the Karvak were not a war-hungry tribe. Their ranks were filled with the old, the young, and hunters more skilled in tracking beasts than spilling blood.
Norgai climbed to a cliff overlooking the horizon. Activating his aura-enhanced vision, he scanned the distant landscape.
And what he saw made him stiffen.
A sea of soldiers. Endless banners. Siege weapons. Builders. An army too vast for a mere border patrol.
He swallowed hard. There was no mistaking it. This was not a simple expedition—it was war.
Accompanied by a few trusted warriors and flying the Karvak banner of peace, Norgai descended from the cliffs and approached the marching army. The Empire's soldiers immediately drew their weapons—but held their ground as a voice cut through the tension.
"Hold! Don't attack!" ordered Herald, one of the Empire's two commanding generals.
Herald and the Snow Knight stepped forward. Norgai approached with a calm, composed expression, and bowed slightly.
"I greet the emissaries of the Great Empire," he said politely.
Herald was momentarily taken aback. He hadn't expected such manners from a so-called barbarian.
But Norgai wasted no time.
"What is the true meaning of this incursion?"
Herald's voice was steady—merciless.
"By decree of The Emperor, we hereby will begin to claim the barren lands.From the northern ridges to the southern plains,all land that light touches should be united under the Empire. None will be spared. No soul left unjudged. This land shall be cleansed with the empire's blades."
The words cut deeper than any blade.
Norgai said nothing at first. His heart was heavy with the weight of his people's future. He knew war with the Empire was suicide. Yet surrender meant death in himself… and barbarian pride.
"You have one week," Herald continued. "Decide if you'll surrender—or die."
Then they turned and left, leaving the silence behind like an echo of doom.
Norgai stood unmoving. He stared at the retreating backs of the Empire's generals. And though his aura was calm, his fingers clenched around his banner.
The word "cleansing" echoed in his mind—poisonous, unforgivable.
"So… it begins."