The fortress gates rumbled open.Kai stood at the head of his warband, cloak whipping in the wasteland wind. Beside him marched Alice, her silver-blue eyes glinting like cold flame, and Drakar, whose half-human frame seemed to quake with restrained power. Behind them, the newly summoned Bone Knight Varian strode in silence, shield strapped across his arm, sword gleaming faintly with necrotic runes. Neyra the Bone Mage hovered at his flank, a low hiss of mana constantly leaking from her skeletal frame.The Warden and the two colossal Guardians watched from the gates, their hollow eyes burning.“You leave us the fortress,” the Warden intoned, bowing his armored head. “No enemy shall breach these walls.”Kai nodded once. “Hold it. When I return, I want this place standing.”Drakar’s grin widened. “And when we return, it’ll be after breaking something of theirs.”The warband set out.The wastelands stretched endlessly, a sea of dust and shattered stone. The skeleton troops moved in discip

The bone throne chamber was still.Kai stood in silence, staring at his reflection in the silver plate set into the throne’s armrest. His features were no longer the boy who had first stepped into this fortress. No longer the forgotten son, abandoned by blood. He was taller now — his frame had stretched to a full one-ninety, shoulders broader, his posture regal without effort. His hair, once dark with hints of gold and light, now shimmered with streaks of silver, and through it ran a single scarlet strand, sharp and burning as blood-fire.But it was his eyes that made the air itself heavy. His left glowed a piercing ice-blue, clear and cutting as a frozen blade. His right burned crimson, its light predatory, as if every soul it gazed upon was prey.Alice, his ever-loyal general, lowered herself to one knee, trembling not from fear but awe. Her silver-blue eyes flickered as if fighting to focus. “Master… you radiate… like the Skeleton King of old. No—stronger.”Drakar, the dragon-born

The Grand Hall quieted as the King raised his hand.“Calyth, First Prince, speak. What news do you bring from the borders?”The eldest of the Veynar heirs stepped forward, his emerald armor gleaming. His voice carried across the chamber, steady and resolute.“The beastkin clans of the east are broken,” Calyth declared. “Their chieftains kneeled beneath our banners after three months of campaign. Resistance remains in the mountain holds, but their unity is shattered. Trade routes will flow again, and the forests of the east are secure.”Cheers filled the hall, nobles slamming their staves and blades against the marble floor. Pride radiated from the people. The First Prince bowed, then stepped back into place, his eyes briefly flicking toward Sylvia — measuring her reaction.“Good,” King Sylorin said. “The east has long needed stability. You have done well, my son.”Then his gaze turned to Lirael. “Daughter. Report.”The Second Princess glided forward, her steps soft, deliberate. Her sm

The Bone Fortress had grown restless.For three months, the ancient citadel of bone and shadow had thrummed with power, each day louder, each night brighter. The jagged towers pulsed with stormlight, veins of silver lightning running like blood through their structure. The spires groaned like old gods stirring in their slumber.And at its heart — Kai stood.His mismatched eyes glowed, one crimson like spilled blood, the other blue as a thunderhead’s core. His hair, once simple brown, now bore streaks of silver, crimson, and azure, and his frame had grown broader, taller, refined by endless training.Lightning arced lazily around his hands as if the storm itself was waiting for his command.He exhaled. The air rippled.“Again,” he said.Across the courtyard, Alice straightened, her twin blades spinning like silver arcs, eyes gleaming with cold precision. Drakar cracked his neck, half-human form cloaked in shadows of scaled power, his tail swaying with anticipation.The three had fought

The spires of the Elven Capital gleamed in morning light, their crystal towers shining like frozen flame. Beneath the vaulted ceiling of the royal audience chamber, Sylvia knelt before her father, King Eltharion, and the gathered siblings of her house. “I will return to the Human Academy,” Sylvia said, her voice calm though her heart beat fast. “The International Academy Tournament draws near, and it would dishonor our kingdom for one of its princesses to shy away from the challenge.” Her father’s golden eyes narrowed, thoughtful. “You leave of your own will, Sylvia?” “Yes,” she replied. “My path lies there. I must test the strength I’ve gained… and represent our people with honor.” Across the chamber, her older brother Calyth, First Prince of the Elves, leaned back in his chair, arms folded. “You always did have a stubborn streak. Very well. But know this, sister—if you falter, it will not only be you who is shamed, but our entire bloodline.” Sylvia met his gaze evenly. “Th