Jayd had listened long enough. The chamber had become unbearably loud and all the elders seemed determined to speak over the others. “You cannot remain here!” “You are overstepping your authority!”The screaming of the elders reached a deafening fever pitch, their voices echoing off the cold basalt pillars of the royal bedchamber like shrieking crows.Lord Kaelen had stepped forward, gesturing wildly for the hesitant royal guards to advance, while Elder Malachi’s bony chest heaved under his silver silk robes. Gerald’s broadsword was cleared two inches from its scabbard, the raw, crimson aura of his aura threatening to erupt into open combat.The queen lay completely still, her pale face was illuminated by the soft golden light coming from the enchanted crystals embedded in the walls. Her breathing was shallow. Jayd raised his right hand his long fingers relaxing as he spoke a single, quiet sentence into the chaos."Her Majesty’s throat burns with the sensation of crushed glass ever

Jayd sat rigid upon the simple wooden stool, his back straight, his eyes closed. His long fingers remained locked in the sacred triangular seal of the Valkyrie Purification Technique, hovering barely an inch above Queen Althea’s trembling chest.Deep within his physical vessel, the microscopic spark of his Valhalla core vibrated at a terrifying frequency. It was like forcing a roaring, celestial river through a series of narrow, cracked glass pipes. Every drop of divine energy Jayd summoned sent agony tearing through his unrecovered mortal channels. The faint, barely healed fractures from his battle at the Crimson Scar groaned under the sudden, violent load, but Jayd’s expression remained the same. He paid the physical pain no mind, grounding his consciousness entirely into the delicate flow of his power.Steadiness above all, Jayd reminded himself, his breathing dropping to a ghost-like rhythm. A fraction of a millimeter off, and the divine light will rupture her mortal heart bef

Rumors had spread past the barracks and down into the lower stone wards before the morning sun even cleared the eastern peaks. The Envoy had purged the Crimson Scar. The Envoy had exposed the traitorous Chief Minister. The Envoy had snatched Queen Althea from the jaw of an unholy, incurable rot without drawing a single drop of blood from her veins.To the common foot soldiers, the blacksmiths, and the refugees crammed into the lower courtyards, Jayd was no longer just an imperial knight. He was a living shield—a quiet, immovable force standing between them and the dark void that had threatened to devour their homes for seven long years. When his solitary figure appeared briefly on the upper walkways, men lowered their heads in genuine reverence, and tired mothers held their children up just to see the man who had brought peace back to them.Below the main courtyard, assembled in silent, perfect formation, stood the entire their armor gleaming, stood shoulder to shoulder before the

The blizzard did not merely howl across the southern jagged peaks; it screamed with the fury of a dying god.Freezing air whipped through the high mountain passes, driving needles of ice against the sheer basalt cliffs that marked the boundary of the Crimson Scar. At this altitude, human blood would freeze in a man's veins within minutes, and the sheer density of ambient, unrefined spatial chaos bleeding from the valley below rendered ordinary navigational spells utterly useless.Yet, moving through the knee-deep drifts with impossible, ghost-like grace was a solitary figure clad in a dark, fur-lined cloak.Jayd pushed forward into the storm, his boots sinking into the snow without making a single crunching sound. Beneath his tunic, his Valhalla core hummed with a quiet, continuous heat, radiating a subtle golden aura that melted the ice before it could touch his skin. His dark eyes, sharp and unblinking, peered through the blinding white wall of frost.For six hours, he had climbed

The vaulted corridor stretched into a cavernous darkness, its walls lined with jagged, obsidian-like glass that seemed to pull the faint blue torchlight into an unnatural, suffocating void.As Jayd took another step forward, the slick black ice beneath his boots gave way to a floor smooth as polished marble. The mirrors around him began to warp. The flat surfaces rippled like disturbed water, and the quiet cold of the hallway was instantly swallowed by the distant, horrifying roar of a continent in agony.Images coalesced within the glass, vivid and sickeningly real.Jayd saw the Oakhaven Citadel falling—its great basalt towers crumbling under a sky stained a violent, bruised purple. He saw King Varos kneeling in a pool of his own blood, his crown shattered, while Queen Althea’s voice rose in a desperate, final scream as dark tendrils consumed her. Farther down the hall, the mirrors reflected the lower towns of Midgard burning to ash, millions of innocent lives cut down by towering