Syra stepped over the body of a fallen Aethelgard mage and wiped her condensed shadow blade on a torn tapestry. She inspected the center of the iron command room. A massive crystalline array pulsed with white light, projecting a floating magical seal of the Fourth Continent.

"Commander," Syra called out through the open doorway. "They left the main communication line active. This array connects directly to Aethelgard’s royal map room."

Iron-Scale walked into the chamber and sheathed his star-iron dagger. He looked at the glowing seal. The projection shifted, resolving into a crisp, three-dimensional image of King Voranthar standing at the head of a crystal table. The King wore an elaborate golden crown and a decorated mantle.

He leaned forward, expecting to see his fortress captain.

Voranthar staggered backward a step when he saw the towering, draconic Kobold staring back at him.

"Who are you?" Voranthar demanded. His voice echoed through the iron room. "What have you done to the eastern patrol?"

Iron-Scale stood completely still. He suddenly remembered a highly specific set of instructions the Red gave him before the Vanguard ever boarded the ships on the Second Continent.

The Sovereign had told him to recite an exact phrase if he ever established a direct visual link with the King of Aethelgard. Iron-Scale possessed zero understanding of the context behind the words, but he knew how to follow orders.

"I am the Supreme Commander of the Red Spiral Vanguard," Iron-Scale answered, crossing his arms over his emerald core. "My Sovereign tasked me with delivering a specific message to you. He wants to thank you for the night of the summoning."

Voranthar froze. The color instantly drained from his face.

Iron-Scale recited the exact words etched into his memory. "He remembers the stone altar. He remembers your Royal Mage casting Soul Flay. You demanded a sacrifice to build your twenty-eight champions. You shattered his soul to steal his magic, and you threw the twenty-ninth student into the void."

A royal minister standing behind the King dropped a stack of parchment onto the floor. Voranthar gripped the edge of his crystal table. His knuckles turned entirely white against the glass. His eyes widened wildly as the impossible reality crashed over him.

"The husk survived," Iron-Scale continued. His draconic eyes locked onto the King. "He inherited a continent, and he built an empire. We are marching across this desert to reclaim his stolen property. We will burn your kingdom to bedrock to get it."

Iron-Scale raised his armored fist and brought it down directly onto the crystalline array. The console shattered into a thousand pieces, instantly cutting the transmission and plunging the command room into silence.

Up in the sanctuary, Red leaned back against his throne. He watched the interaction through the and let out a genuine laugh.

’He delivered it flawlessly,’ Red thought, resting his chin on his knuckles. ’Voranthar just realized his invincible global empire is being systematically dismantled by the sacrifice he threw away like trash.’

"Since I can’t descend into the physical realm, this was the best way I could let Voranthar know I survived. After all, I want my dear classmates to learn who is ruling the vanguard they are fighting."

Glitch chirped from the floor tiles, sensing the Sovereign’s excellent mood.

Red looked down at the floating cartographic map of the Third Continent. The psychological warfare was officially initiated. A terrified ruler always makes irrational, desperate mistakes. Voranthar would undoubtedly bypass his own generals and force his champions into reckless deployments to save his own life.

"Strip the armory and burn the fortress," Red commanded through the terminal. "Leave the wreckage as a monument. We resume the march."

In the next few minutes, thick plumes of black smoke billowed into the desert sky.

The Vanguard had completely stripped the Ghost Fort of its armory and set the massive iron structure ablaze. Krax stood at the base of a dune, watching the metal plates warp under the intense heat.

"Let it burn," Iron-Scale commanded, turning his back to the wreckage. "Reform the ranks. We march for the southern fortress."

Before the Kingdom Knights could mount their horses, the ambient light across the dunes rapidly darkened. The scorching desert sun was forcefully blotted out by unnatural, sickly green clouds swirling into a violent vortex directly above the Vanguard.

Up in the sanctuary, the planetary sensory grid flashed with two massive, radiant signatures. Red leaned forward on his throne.

’They are already here, huh? Looks like they were close by. Let’s see who they are.’

Down in the desert, two figures descended from the toxic clouds, levitating effortlessly above the dunes. The young man and woman wore immaculate golden armor that radiated blinding light, contrasting heavily with the vile green storm brewing above them.

’Oh, it’s Tyler and Jessica. They were a thing back in high school too.’

"Look at this mess, Jess," Tyler sneered, looking down at the burning Ghost Fort and the beastmen below. He casually raised his hands, green energy crackling between his fingers. "The King was crying over a bunch of oversized lizards and bugs. Pathetic."

Jessica rolled her eyes, her own golden aura shifting into a soothing, restorative pink light. "Just melt them, Tyler. I don’t want to smell burning hair today."

Tyler grinned and snapped his fingers.

The green clouds burst open. A torrential downpour of hyper-lethal, highly corrosive acid rained down across the entire sector.

"Shields!" Iron-Scale roared. He ignited his emerald core, throwing both hands up to generate a massive, localized hurricane above the army. The violent winds caught the first wave of the acid rain, violently deflecting the droplets away from the infantry.

But the sheer volume of the downpour was overwhelming. Drops of acid that slipped past the wind immediately ate through the sand, turning the dunes into bubbling, toxic sludge.

Gulag stepped up beside Iron-Scale. Her amber core flared, merging with the violet energy of the Ley-Crystal. She slammed her hands into the bedrock beneath the sand. A colossal dome of solid glass erupted from the earth, encasing the entire Vanguard just as the heavy downpour struck.

The acid hissed violently against the black glass. Toxic fumes filled the air outside the dome.

"The glass won’t hold forever!" Gulag shouted over the deafening sizzle. "His magic is actively eating the mana inside the stone!"