At the Death Squad’s camp.

Lysandra arrived at a run, cutting straight through the heart of the camp without slowing down.

"Whoa, whoa — what’s the rush, Lysandra?" Darius stepped into her path, the massive sword on his back catching the light as he moved.

His entire chest was wrapped in medical cloth — a clear sign he had taken a hit during the monster wave, though the injury did not look severe enough to have slowed him down.

"Nothing. Just a little irritated. Where’s Evelyne?" Lysandra replied, her eyes already sweeping the camp.

"Evelyne? Her father came to pick her up a little while ago. She went with him — I don’t know where exactly, but she said she’d be back soon." Kael emerged from his tent, having caught the tail end of their exchange.

"The Count?" Lysandra frowned, genuinely puzzled. "Why would the Count come to the border all of a sudden?"

"No idea. It didn’t seem like anything serious. He also asked about you, by the way, and left a box in your tent. Said it was a gift from ’Grandfather.’" Kael shrugged as he relayed what the Count had told him.

"My grandfather?" Lysandra’s expression shifted with mild surprise.

Her grandfather was a busy man by any measure — he rarely sent messages unless he wanted her to visit, and gifts from him were rarer still. Which meant only one thing when they did arrive...

It meant Lysandra was going to need whatever was in that box sooner or later, to survive something important that was coming.

’...The war.’

The thought settled over her quietly as her gaze drifted past the tree line and over the mountains in the distance, toward the other encampment that sat beyond — the one under the control of a different power, a different race entirely.

The encampment of the Twilight Empire.

The Rasassians.

"Speaking of which — Lysandra, where’s Ravian?" Kael’s voice broke through her thoughts as he glanced past her, visibly searching for the distinctive figure with white hair and finding no one. "He’s not with you?"

"He’s with Sir Karius. Something about teaching him a lesson, I think." Lysandra said it with a faint smile already forming as the memory of what had just happened came back to her.

"A lesson?" Darius and Kael said at the same time.

"Well, I don’t know exactly — but Sir Karius seemed somewhat displeased with him, so he told me to head back here ahead of them." She answered their shared confusion simply.

"And why do you look so pleased about that?" Kael asked, eyeing the faint smile on her face with visible bewilderment.

"Hm? Pleased? Why would I be pleased about something like that?" The ghost of a smile vanished from Lysandra’s lips in an instant, and her usual cool, composed expression slid back into place as naturally as a mask returning home.

’Yes. That right there is the real Lysandra.’ Kael and Darius nodded in unison, watching her walk away toward her tent without another word.

Kael lingered, his gaze drifting in the direction she had come from.

’That boy has been pushed hard, and he hasn’t even been here two full days yet. Does Sir Karius not worry about breaking his will entirely, doing it this way?’

Kael thought with quiet concern, his eyes settling on the large castle visible in the distance — the place where Karius typically convened with the faction leaders under his command.

In front of the great castle at the center of the Viera Empire’s encampment.

Karius stood beside Ravian, and for some reason, Ravian looked noticeably irritated.

"You really do need some proper manners, boy. I am your teacher — a Sixth Rank Guardian — not some random person you bumped into on the street," Karius said plainly, his gaze fixed on Ravian’s crimson eyes.

Ravian blinked a few times, one hand pressed against his forehead, nursing the dull headache that had been sitting behind his eyes since he came out of that strange state a short while ago.

"I apologize, Teacher. It’s just... fatigue makes me do strange things. It’s been a habit since I was young." He smiled, scratching the back of his head. "I inherited it from my idiot of a father, I’m afraid."

He cursed his father without so much as a flicker of guilt on his face.

"You have a truly extraordinary nerve, I’ll give you that," Karius remarked, though he did not seem to notice that faint, strange glimmer returning to Ravian’s eyes just then.

Then, without warning, Ravian went rigid. His eyes widened, and he jumped.

"My God — my spoils! I left them out there!" Ravian blurted, the memory of the ninth-rank orc he had abandoned on the battlefield hitting him all at once, right around the same time he had been flung into the air like an insect.

"Spoils? What spoils?" Karius asked, thrown off by the sudden outburst.

"The orc, Teacher — I lost my prize on the battlefield. I have to go back and claim it before someone else takes it," Ravian said urgently, already turning and moving in the direction he had originally been thrown from.

But before he could take two more steps—

A hand came down on his shoulder and stopped him cold.

"It’s been taken care of. Antonius handled it — you’ll find it in your tent when you return to your unit’s camp. Now focus. We don’t have the luxury of time." Karius pulled him by the shoulder, redirecting him firmly toward the great castle.

Ravian did not resist. He fell into step quietly.

’Ugh. My orc is gone, and with it my fast progress. I just hope whatever’s inside it doesn’t expire like food or something of that sort,’ Ravian thought as he followed.

After a few strides, they reached the castle gate.

The structure had a distinctly dark character to it — the kind that would have looked perfectly at home in a vampire film — though it was kept well-lit by the steady flow of soldiers moving in and out, receiving and relaying orders.

At the gate itself stood a handful of soldiers in heavy armor, visors down so that only their eyes were visible beneath the helmets, swords sheathed at their hips, and spear-bearers standing at attention with their shafts planted against the ground and blades pointed skyward — a quiet but unmistakable declaration of readiness to deal with any uninvited arrival.

When Karius and Ravian reached the gate, the guards said nothing — but an invisible wave of unknown origin passed through both of them, and Ravian felt it clearly enough.

’Is this... a scan?’ he guessed, meeting the guards’ sharp, cold gazes — eyes hardened by blood and battle, inside and outside the field alike.

After exactly two seconds—

"Salute to the Marquis!" The guards snapped to attention, stepped aside in unison, and pulled the castle gates open to let them through.

"Impressive," Ravian said, visibly enjoying the old aristocratic atmosphere surrounding him.

"Incorrigible," Karius muttered, catching him out of the corner of his eye — though there was a quiet smile in his gaze, born from watching Ravian fail to so much as flinch at the sight of soldiers that powerful.

Ravian paid the comment little mind, and they walked in together.

The floors were laid with deep red carpet in clean, deliberate lines, and oil lamps hung along the walls at even intervals, their warm glow completing the rich atmosphere of the place.

The crystal windows carried a calm, restrained quality, each one decorated with three stars — what appeared to be a specific symbol belonging to the Empire.

The moment they stepped inside, Ravian was greeted by someone he recognized.

"It’s been a long time, young Ravian." George welcomed him with his characteristic, composed smile, his hair swept back with an elegance that gave him the unmistakable air of a first-rate aristocratic attendant.

"Hello, Sir George. It has been a long time — wait, it’s barely been a day," Ravian said, catching himself and frowning abruptly.

"Haha — George has a strange sense of humor, Ravian. Don’t let it get to you." Karius laughed, then turned to George with something that sounded far more pressing. "How is the meeting room, George?"

"Ready, my lord. They are waiting for you upstairs," George said, already guiding them toward a staircase that rose to the upper floor and split into two directions at a certain landing.

"They’re waiting for us?" Ravian repeated, confused.

"Don’t worry — you’ll see for yourself shortly. They’re... interesting individuals. The strongest of my faction leaders. You’ve already met one of them, in fact." Karius closed his eyes for a brief moment as though sensing something in the air, then opened them and smiled calmly.

"Let’s go."

He moved ahead of them up the stairs with a single easy step.

Ravian was caught off guard by the news that he was about to meet the faction leaders, but he decided to go along with it and get it over with as quickly as possible.

Though whether things inside would truly end that quickly — that was another matter entirely.