The caravan crossed the last hills before the imperial capital without announcing its arrival.
The banners of the Kingdom and the Empire fluttered in tatters, covered in frost. The six heroes advanced at the front in silence, while the few surviving soldiers could barely keep pace.
The walls appeared before them like gray giants, covered in glowing runes that pulsed under the saturation of mana.
There was no music.
No welcoming horns.
Only the sound of boots sinking into the snow.
When they passed through the gates, the entire city seemed to stop.
Citizens watched from floating balconies and streets lit by arcane filaments. Their gazes searched for answers the heroes could not give.
Kara walked with her head lowered.
Emily held in her hands a fractured amulet, the last belonging of a fallen soldier.
Leonardo carried the shattered shield of an imperial legion.
Cael and Miriel, heroes of the Empire, walked tensely, hands half-open out of habit, ready for an attack that never came.
Alejandro, on the other hand, seemed to burn from within.
His breathing was heavy.
But the Solaris Sword, hanging at his side, had lost all its light.
It slept.
Exhausted.
A murmur began spreading through the crowd.
—Where are the legions?
—Why are so few returning?
—And the creature…?
No one dared finish the question.
The Kingdom's heroes were unknown there.
And precisely because of that… they were even more unsettling.
The six were taken not to the palace, but to the Great Temple of Kaenria, a white structure fractured into levels suspended in the air. The columns seemed to breathe mana, and the platforms floated like leaves caught in an invisible current.
There they were.
The Heralds.
Three figures whose mere presence seemed to distort the air around them. Mana rippled over their bodies in halos unbearable to anyone who had not received divine blessing.
The Kingdom's heroes felt the pressure instantly.
Breathing became heavy.
The atmosphere, dense.
Cael and Miriel immediately knelt.
—Herald Aster —Cael greeted—. We have returned with information about the Frostblight.
The white-robed Herald inclined his head slightly. His sunken eyes glowed with an unnatural radiance.
—And with fewer soldiers than you departed with.
His voice sounded doubled.
Human.
And something else.
—Sad. Inefficient. Predictable.
Alejandro stepped forward.
—The creature was more intelligent than expected. And stronger. But not invincible.
The blue-robed Herald observed him in silence, as if examining every thread of his soul.
—And who are you?
There was no emotion in his voice.
—I sense divinity in you… though I expected this one to be more useful.
His eyes shifted toward Lusian.
Alejandro raised a faint eyebrow, amused.
Leonardo held his breath.
Emily felt a chill run down her spine.
The Herald of Light had always been kind.
This one was different.
Then the golden Herald spoke, the most imposing of the three.
—These are the four heroes of the Kingdom.
After delivering the report on the situation, the Heralds led the group toward the throne hall. Naira awaited them with the impeccable posture of a sovereign.
The golden Herald spoke without bowing.
—We need reinforcements to face the Frostblight.
Naira narrowed her eyes slightly.
—And why not use your own troops? —she asked softly—. I am sure the temple faithful would gladly die for your cause.
Naira already knew the answer perfectly.
The Heralds wanted to drain the imperial army. They had already absorbed two of its legions into the temples and now demanded more. Brazen.
Herald Aster continued:
—We will assemble forces. But first we must evaluate the emotional and spiritual stability of the faithful.
His eyes settled on Emily, Kara, and Leonardo, finally stopping on Alejandro.
Then he turned his gaze back to Naira.
—They are blessings granted by the gods, Your Majesty. You must cooperate. It is for the salvation of your people.
The message was clear. The Heralds did not only want to control armies; they also wanted to control the heroes.
Naira smiled elegantly, though beneath that flawless mask her anger slowly grew. From the throne she observed each of them with the sharp gaze of someone calculating threats and opportunities at the same time.
Then her eyes met Alejandro's for a moment that lasted too long.
Alejandro felt a faint shiver in his chest. The thought appeared without permission, natural and dangerous:
The empress should not be out of my reach. After all, I am also an chosen one.
He tried to push the idea away, but it was already too late.
Something within him had begun to change.
The leading Herald insisted:
—Your Majesty… the situation is urgent.
Alejandro opened his mouth, likely ready to request more support.
Emily squeezed his hand.
—No —she whispered.
And for the first time, he obeyed.
Naira raised a hand, and silence fell over the hall.
—Failure is not a crime —she said as she stepped forward—. But losing my men in this way is. Tomorrow I will speak with my generals. For now… you are dismissed.
The heroes and the Heralds left the hall.
General Valmont was waiting outside. His gaze swept over the torn banners and the absence of soldiers who would never return.
—Those damned fools… —he muttered—. They lost an entire legion. The other can barely continue fighting. Your Majesty…
Naira observed him in silence.
There was no anger in her eyes.
Only calculation.
—Heroes… —she finally said with unsettling calm—. They generate hope, but consume men too quickly.
Her fingers slowly slid across the table.
—Tomorrow we will speak with Princess Elizabeth. I will request that the Kingdom march alongside us.
Valmont nodded in silence.