The chamber was silent once more, though the echoes of the skeletal army’s salute still hung in the air. Kai flexed his fingers, feeling the weight of the ring embedded in his skin. The pulse of the fortress beneath him was unmistakable—walls, wards, and every soldier attuned to his presence. He could feel it all, the army, the guardians, even the Warden slowly reconstructing itself in the distance.Alice’s eyes flickered with approval. “Master… the fortress responds to you. Every soldier, every warded wall… they are yours to command. Even the guardians of the gates—once thought immovable—will follow your orders.”Kai took a deep breath, walking to the edge of the dais. From here, he could see the throne hall stretching into shadowed corridors, the floor tiles etched with runes that whispered as he stepped near them. The army moved subtly, adjusting, waiting for his signal, and even Drakar—the half-dragon general—stood alert, wings folded, tail coiled around his feet, horns faintly gl

The throne room’s bone-fire torches had dimmed to a steady glow, but Kai did not sit long upon the throne. The fortress pulled at him, each shadowed hall whispering with secrets, each sealed chamber waiting for its new master.He rose, the ring on his finger pulsing faintly, and gestured for Alice and Drakar to follow. “We’ll see what lies deeper inside. If this place is truly mine, then I need to know every corner of it.”Alice bowed her head, her pale hair falling forward. “As you command.”Drakar snorted, his massive form rippling with restrained power. “Good. The fortress is not merely stone. It remembers. But it must be walked again to wake fully.”The three of them moved down a long, skeletal corridor, torches igniting one by one as they passed. The first chamber they entered was vast, with a black marble table stretching across its center.Maps lay etched into the stone, glowing faintly with residual mana. Regions of the portal world spread across its surface—mountains, rivers,

The fortress pulsed with life.Kai could feel it in the marrow of its bones—the halls breathing, the torches burning brighter, the walls humming with mana. Skeletal patrols clicked steadily across the corridors, shields and spears at the ready. They no longer resembled a scattered army of forgotten dead. Now, they were organized. Disciplined. His.Alice walked at his side, silver-blue eyes scanning every shadow. Drakar followed behind in his half-human form, the sweep of his tail rattling against the floor. The sheer presence of the dragon general made the skeleton soldiers step aside with instinctive reverence.Kai stopped at a high balcony overlooking the fortress courtyard. The bone guardians patrolled like clockwork, and below them, waves of skeletal soldiers drilled in formations under Drakar’s command. Each line moved with precision, shields locking in place, spears thrusting in perfect unison.“They’re improving fast,” Kai muttered, gripping the railing.Drakar’s deep rumble ec

The fortress pulsed with anticipation.Kai stood in the war hall, bone-fire casting blue shadows across the great table. The glowing map before him shifted and rippled, showing the wastelands beyond the fortress walls. Trails of red light marked movement—faint, scattered, but unmistakable.Scouts.The other races had already begun creeping toward his domain.Kai’s jaw tightened. He had expected it, but the speed unsettled him. The world wasted no time in reacting to his return.Alice stood at his right, her silver-blue gaze cool and steady. “They probe the edges. The first of many. If ignored, they will multiply. If crushed, their leaders will take notice.”Drakar grinned on his left, teeth flashing sharp in the firelight. “Let us crush them. Blood and fear will carry your name faster than whispers ever could.”Kai’s eyes narrowed. “Not blood. Bones.”He turned toward the far end of the hall, where the heavy steps of the Warden echoed.The towering figure emerged from the shadows, its

The great hall of the Elven palace shimmered with crystal light. Stained-glass windows depicted victories of ages past—Elven hosts triumphant against dragons, demons, and kings of bone alike. Banners hung in deep green and gold, and at the far end sat the Elven King, Sylorin Veynar, on his throne of living wood.Sylvia walked the length of the chamber, her footsteps steady but her pulse racing. Around her, Elven nobles watched with sharp eyes, their whispers cutting like blades. She felt their suspicion even before she stopped at the steps of the throne.Her father leaned forward, emerald crown glinting under the light. His gaze was stern, ancient, but not unkind. “Daughter. You return from the human lands sooner than expected. Tell me—what has transpired?”Sylvia bowed deeply before lifting her eyes. “Much, Father. More than I imagined when I left for the Academy.”At his nod, she began.She spoke of the Academy—of its halls, its endless duels, and the tournament that loomed. She des