There is a Chinese idiom that says 百折不挠 (Bǎi zhé bù náo)Literal meaning: Not bending despite a hundred setbacks .
(A person who remains unbroken and keeps pursuing their goal despite repeated failures.).and truly this seems to be hills case as heaven remembered him and gave him the assess to sour the sky.
It was a known fact in the small city of vethryn that the boy hills was forever going to be in the confinement of the pawn shop but then all of a sudden, Gus started visiting him again.it turned out his brothers had been stoping him from knowing the in's and out of the pawn shop so now the whereat the frontier he learnt of hills injustice but the smell of war that kept rising was his sole purpose of visiting.
"Those barbaric Dragons are moving again," the old man had said one evening while sharpening a hunting blade. "When they move in silence, it means something worse follows."
Kael did not fully understand then. But the night air carried tension like a storm waiting beyond the mountains.
Days later the first sign appeared.
A caravan limped into the frontier village at dusk, wagons broken, horses bleeding. The survivors spoke in frightened voices about banegroove pistil commanders gathering armies. Entire settlements further east had already been seized.
"They aren't raiding," one survivor said.
"They are positioning."
That single word spread through the town like poison.
Positioning meant war.
Kael's father knew what that meant for border settlements.
"The capital will not see this until the fire reaches them," he muttered. "And by then it will be too late."
The old man studied his son for a long time that night.
"You're fast. You remember roads. And you don't scare easily."
Hills frowned. "Why does that matter?"
"Because someone must reach Varreck."
Three nights later hills left the town.
The journey to the capital took nearly a week. The roads grew wider, busier, and more guarded the closer he came to the heart of the kingdom.
But everywhere he traveled, the same rumors followed him.
Dragon banners.
Hidden camps.
Mercenaries disappearing into the eastern passes.
Something large was forming beyond the kingdom's sight.
By the time Hills reached the capital walls, the city already felt different.
Soldiers lined the gates. Messengers rode through the streets without pause. Black-armored guards watched every movement in the courtyards.
And above them all stood Varreck's palace, carved from dark stone that seemed older than the city itself.
People whispered about the king and the Blood-Bound power that moved through him. They spoke even more quietly about the Night House, the ancient structure beyond the capital that judged rulers and shaped fate without ever leaving its ridge.
Hills had partly been sceptical about those stories despite happening since he got to this world.
Until he entered the palace gates.
Inside the courtyard, soldiers drilled in tight formations.
A captain stopped hills before he could approach the inner steps.
"This is the High King's hall," the man said sharply. "State your purpose."
Hills swallowed but did not hesitate.
"The Dragon armies are gathering beyond the frontier," he said. "Not raiders. A war host."
The captain studied him carefully.
Many had come with rumors before.
But few spoke with the certainty in the boy's voice.
"Who told you this?"
"My father," hills answered. "And the refugees that survived them."
The captain escorted him deeper into the palace.
Kael's heart pounded as he entered the Hall of Accord where Varreck held court.
The king stood near the center of the chamber, surrounded by commanders and nobles. His presence was quiet but heavy, as though the room itself adjusted around him.
Some said the Blood-Bound lived beneath his skin.
Others believed the Night House watched him through the stone walls.
Hills only knew that when Varreck looked at him, the entire room seemed to fall silent.
"What news forces a child through my gates?" Varreck asked calmly.
Kael forced himself to stand straight.
"The Dragons are preparing war, Your Blooded Grace."
Murmurs rippled through the chamber.
Varreck's eyes narrowed slightly.
"War?" he asked.
"Yes," Kael said. "Not raids. Not border fights. They are gathering armies."
For several long seconds the king said nothing.
Then the faintest pulse passed through the hall—as if the stone beneath them had quietly acknowledged the words.
Some of the older nobles exchanged uneasy looks.
Varreck studied hills again.
"You traveled alone to tell me this?"
"Yes."
"And you expect me to believe you?"
Kael hesitated only a moment.
"Your soldiers will see it soon enough," he said. "But by then the Dragons will already be moving."
The court grew quiet again.
Then Varreck turned to his generals.
"Send scouts to the frontier immediately."
That moment changed Kael's life.
Within weeks the scouts confirmed everything.
Bane groove pristils armies were gathering across the eastern valleys.
A war unlike any seen in decades was coming.
And the boy who had first warned the king was no longer simply a messenger.
Varreck ordered him to remain in the palace.
To learn.
To train.
To watch.
Because the king had noticed something unusual the moment hills entered the hall.
The Blood-Bound had stirred.
Only slightly.
But enough to suggest that the boy standing before him might one day stand far closer to the crown than anyone expected.
And far beyond the capital, in the silent ridge where the Night House waited, the ancient stones shifted almost imperceptibly.
As if acknowledging a new name that would one day matter.
Hills.
The boy who arrived before the war.
The boy whose rise the war itself would shape.