Chapter 529: The Knights of the Dawn Cross’ First Expedition

The Knights of the Dawn Cross was created by Ethan to go on expeditions for the empire and to also serve as delegates, which was why Regnare was their Commander. The Crown Prince, or rather, the Imperial Crown Prince, had to lead delegates.

...

The hangar stretched wide beneath a silver-lit sky, its vast structure humming with quiet power. Rows of smaller crafts lined the sides, but at the very center, sat something else entirely... A jet.

Its body was forged from a deep obsidian alloy that seemed to drink in light, yet along its edges ran flowing silver lines that pulsed faintly like veins. The wings were sharp and swept back, layered with segmented panels that could shift mid-flight, adapting to speed or combat.

At its nose, the insignia of the KDC gleamed proudly... A silver cross set against a rising dawn. The engines were almost silent, humming faintly as if they were whispering. The hum spoke of restrained destruction rather than brute force. This wasn’t just a transport... It was a declaration to the world that the Knights of the Dawn Cross weren’t merely soldiers or delegates, but they could also bring the emperor and his empire’s judgment.

Footsteps echoed across the polished platform.

Regnare walked at the front, his presence alone enough to command attention. His dark blue military suit fit perfectly, tailored to his frame, with intricate golden designs running along the edges. The cross on his chest was more defined than the rest, glowing faintly.

Behind him, the Knights of the Dawn Cross (KDC) moved as one.

Yamal walked to the left, tall and composed, his red eyes scanning the surroundings with quiet lethality. The twin blades across his lower back shifted slightly with each step, their presence subtle but deadly.

Drak and Vorr followed, their heavier steps distinct even in formation. Drak adjusted the massive poleaxe slung across his back, while Vorr casually rested his hands near the twin hammers at his hips, both of them exuding the grounded confidence of warriors who had seen too many battles to be impressed by new ones.

Brayk cracked his neck, the glowing tattoos along his arms pulsing faintly with each movement. His blood-red horns caught the light as he smirked at something only he found amusing.

Nyarelle walked silently, almost blending into the air itself. Her long silver-white hair flowed behind her, and her amethyst eyes flickered with quiet awareness. The crescent-edged daggers at her sides shifted just enough to remind anyone watching that she didn’t need noise to be dangerous.

Kalev’s heavy steps came next, mechanical and organic in perfect sync. The blue energy pulsing through his cybernetic arms reflected faintly off his suit as he adjusted the kinetic rifle slung across his back.

Rhask walked beside Regnare, too relaxed. His pale skin contrasted sharply with his deep red eyes, and the single horn on his forehead gave him an almost feral edge. His dreadlocks swayed slightly as he glanced sideways.

"You look like you’re about to conquer something," he muttered.

Regnare didn’t look at him.

"We are." 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

Rhask grinned.

"Good answer."

Behind them, Maelis moved with eerie grace, her blood-stitched blindfold covering her eyes, yet she never stumbled, and never hesitated. It was as if she saw more than anyone else present.

Vekran spun one of his curved blades lazily before letting it settle back at his side, his movements smooth and practiced.

Troval and Grun followed together.

Troval’s lean frame carried the crackling glaive over his shoulder, faint arcs of storm energy dancing along its edge. Grun, towering and solid, walked beside him like a moving fortress, his long beard clinking softly with the bits of molten steel woven into it.

And finally, the vampire woman, Rexa. Long red hair cascaded down her back, her scythe resting effortlessly across her shoulder. Her presence was calm, but there was a quiet danger in the way she walked, like a storm that hadn’t decided to strike yet.

They moved as one unit, disciplined, refined, and deadly. At Regnare’s side, Ony walked casually, completely out of uniform. She wore light clothing and carried no visible weapon or armor, and yet, no one questioned her presence because everyone there knew...

If something went wrong, she would be the last thing the enemy ever saw... Well, if only they would even be able to see her. She glanced up at Regnare, her expression soft but her eyes sharp.

"You’re thinking too much."

"I’m thinking enough," Regnare replied.

She smirked slightly.

"That’s your problem."

They reached the jet. The rear ramp lowered smoothly with a quiet hiss, revealing the interior, dimly lit and lined with advanced seating and weapon locks, everything designed for efficiency and war. Regnare stopped for a brief moment, his gaze swept across his team.

No words were needed. They understood. This was their first expedition outside of Anbord, and even though they all looked calm, Regnare knew that they were tense and anxious. This was their first step, their first war beyond preparation. He turned and walked in.

One by one, the Knights of the Dawn Cross followed. The ramp closed behind them as the engines hummed louder, and within seconds, the jet lifted silently into the sky, cutting through the air like a blade heading straight into the unknown.

...

The interior of the jet was nothing like a conventional military craft. It felt... alive. Soft blue lights traced along the walls in thin, pulsing lines, reacting subtly to the presence of those inside. The seats were arranged in two facing rows along the length of the cabin, each one reinforced with layered alloy yet lined with adaptive cushioning that adjusted to the occupant’s body.

Above, translucent panels displayed shifting data: terrain scans, atmospheric readings, distant energy fluctuations, all updating in real time. Weapons were locked neatly along the sides, secured, and organized. The air itself felt pressurized with purpose.

At the front of the craft, separated by a semi-transparent barrier, was the cockpit. Yamal sat in the pilot’s seat, posture straight, his hands steady on the controls. His red eyes moved across the interface with practiced precision, every movement minimal, efficient.

Beside him, Maelis handled navigation. Her fingers moved across the controls without hesitation, adjusting flight paths, reading data that she didn’t need eyes to see.

"Wind resistance increasing," she said calmly.

Yamal nodded slightly.

"Adjusting altitude."

The jet tilted subtly, slicing through a layer of dense clouds as if they weren’t there. Behind them, the rest of the KDC settled in. Drak and Vorr sat opposite each other, murmuring quietly about terrain advantages. Brayk leaned back with his arms crossed, eyes half-closed but very much aware.

Nyarelle was still as if she had already disappeared into whatever mission awaited them. Kalev checked his rifle methodically, the soft mechanical clicks blending into the hum of the jet.

Rhask stretched lazily, one leg propped up as he glanced around.

"Feels too quiet," he muttered.

Troval spun his glaive once before resting it across his lap, faint sparks dancing along its edge. Grun sat beside him, unmoving, like a mountain that had decided to travel.

Rexa leaned against the wall, her scythe resting beside her, eyes closed. Vekran flipped one of his curved blades, then stopped, letting silence settle again.

Regnare sat still, thinking. Onyx sat beside him, one leg crossed over the other, watching him with quiet amusement.

"You’re doing it again," she said.

"Doing what?"

"Carrying everything."

Regnare didn’t respond.

She smirked slightly.

"...You’ll get wrinkles."

"That’s not how that works."

"Still."

An hour later...

The jet continued its silent flight, cutting across vast stretches of land now scarred by void corruption. Through the viewing panels, the world below shifted from reclaimed territory to something darker... heavier, closer to the border.

Regnare stood; the subtle shift in movement was enough. Conversations stopped as all eyes turned toward him. Regnare stepped forward, his golden-accented uniform catching the dim light as he looked across his team.

"The mission is straightforward."

His voice was calm and controlled.

"But not simple. We are heading to the border between Anbord and Alfheim."

At the mention of the elven empire, a few expressions sharpened slightly.

"Alfheim is holding," he continued, "but barely. Their forces have been engaged in constant combat with void-born and void beasts. Their territory near the border is heavily contested."

"Our objective is to assist in clearing the region. This is not a standard expedition. The duration is unknown. It could take minutes or days."

No one spoke.

"And there’s more."

Regnare’s voice hardened slightly.

"We are to assume the presence of evolved void entities. Humanoid variants. Entities capable of reasoning, adapting, and fighting at levels comparable to... Emperor Realm."

Silence enveloped the compartment at the mention of the void entities. Even Brayk’s smirk faded slightly. Kalev’s grip on his rifle tightened just a fraction. Nyarelle’s eyes sharpened. Rhask grinned slowly.

"...Now it’s interesting."

Regnare didn’t react.

"If we encounter them, we eliminate them."

"We are not here to test ourselves. We are not here to explore."

His red eyes glinted faintly.

"We are here to win."

A quiet fire ignited in the room. Troval leaned forward slightly, and Grun cracked his knuckles. Vekran’s blades shifted. Maelis’ fingers stilled briefly on the controls. Yamal’s gaze sharpened. Onyx watched Regnare with a faint smile.

Because this was where he belonged. At the front, leading. Regnare took one final look at his team.

"Prepare yourselves."

The jet descended slightly.

Below them, the land darkened as the border approached. And the real war was waiting.