A calm chill spread across the open terrain as most fauna either slept or lay dead. It was early in the morning; way too early for even the birds to start their morning serenades. Yet Aenon's group marched at a casual pace through the dead forest. Each step broke the empty husks of fallen trees, the sound traveling farther than usual. But stealth was of no concern to any of them. This wasn't a covert assault; it was a declaration of reckoning.

It was natural to feel nervous in such a scenario, and yet only Talia showed any signs of it. The others were just restless in anticipation. As they approached a cliff face, the group stopped one by one. Aenon heard several sharp breaths once the true scale of their challenge came into full view. He walked up to the very edge of the drop and regarded the basin like structure.

Monsters. Hundreds of each species lay within a deep ravine; one that wasn't a natural formation. There was no clear way in or out for the trapped creatures, and neither was there a logical explanation for their docile behavior. They all seemed to be an induced trance, just standing there with glassy eyes. The biggest amongst them were of course the Treants that were spaced out evenly.

Thalindra walked up beside him. Her voice was barely a whisper, "That is…something."

Aenon didn't respond, continuing his scan with a deep frown. Even though his Sovereign's Eye had given him a accurate head count, seeing the unnatural scene was still disconcerting. More than half the comatose creatures would tear each other apart if they were awake. He scoured the entire area to find the source of the anomalous behavior. Finally, his Mana Sense picked up something.

"Over there," Aenon pointed towards the very center of the horde. "I sense a high concentration of mana at that location. Might need a closer look, but whatever is controlling these creatures is located there."

"Hmm," Thalindra responded with a scowl. "For something of this scale, it's more than likely an artifact of some kind. This world is too new for any individual to have gained this much power."

"I agree," Aenon nodded in acknowledgement. "There is a certain…pattern to the mana flow. Like a formation of some kind."

"An array master's work then," Thalindra agreed. "This will be troublesome."

Despite herself, the woman's soul radiated worry and concern. Aenon didn't know what an array was, but from the context he could take a guess. He detected certain spots around the gorge that had minor fluctuations in the flow of mana wisps. This looked like a spell formation; one with a very large area of effect.

"No wonder there hasn't been a monster horde despite the nuisance the Treant's were creating," Ignar commented as he too joined them. "Even your Domain quest should have triggered mass migration of monsters. It seems they have all been systematically collected to gather here."

"The bigger concern is the scale of this operation," Aenon added. "This maybe one of several nodes, and we don't know how many there are. And if each holds the same number of creatures…"

Aenon's voice trailed off. He didn't bother completing the sentence. The two adventurers had lived in the Multiverse longer than him. They would know the gravity of the situation much better.

"Seems like we have our work cut out for us," Ignar said once the silence had lingered on for too long. "All I see before me is a treasure trove of Titles and levels for your citizens, once the siege starts. But we do need to thin the herd."

Aenon thought about the issue deeply. Ignar was right. Yes, this was a calamity for sure. But it was also a chance for them to propel themselves higher. Whoever was behind this Alliance, was no doubt not counting on them surviving. Because if they did, the potential rewards too were massive.

Aenon smirked at the implications. Their enemies were preparing rocks to throw at them, not realizing that they were doing nothing but providing whetstones for them to sharpen against.

"Alright," Aenon said authoritatively as he turned towards the others. "Now that you know the stakes, and the potential scale of the operation, I will give you all one chance to retreat. Because what you see before you is a glimpse of what following me will be like."

Silence reigned. Each fighter absorbed the words like iron being hammered into shape. He beckoned towards the horde with his finger.

"My Path…" Aenon continued. "Will always be through there. I give no guarantees of safety, or even survival. Death is not a possibility…it is a certainty. If not today, then some other time, on some other battlefield with similar odds."

To their credit, no one's soul emitted fear or doubt. If anything, he felt excitement from the battle-hardened fighters.

"But there is one promise I will make," Aenon said firmly. "I will be standing with you on every hopeless battleground. And if we are all to die…"

His Aura flared to life, radiating outwards like a raging tornado. The creatures within the enclosed space recoiled in terror despite their state.

"I will be the last one to fall," Aenon's words weighed on every soul within a twenty-kilometer radius. "And not before I have exacted a heavy price from our enemies."

As one, seven more Auras were unleashed, including Bane's. The subdued monsters convulsed, thrashing against one another as instinct overpowered their trance. Even Talia and her grandmother, nestled safely within the branches of their ride, had wide smiles. One by one, they all withdrew their weapons before assembling in a neat line at the cliff edge.

Aenon turned back towards the panicking monsters, a vicious smile etched on his mask. The human rats amongst the formerly dormant monsters had begun to come out of their tent. The overconfident fools hadn't even bothered to set up a lookout perimeter, not expecting anyone to be foolish enough attack so brazenly.

Aenon's smirk was hidden beneath his mask. But he couldn't hide the excitement from his voice as he gave out his first command.

"Knights," he said in a low but decisive voice. "Charge."

Ignar and Velastra exchanged a brief look, gentle smiles blooming on the couple's faces. A fire storm coalesced around the fire mage, just as Ignar's body turned a deep crimson.

And together, the lovers leapt into the death pit, while their companions stood above—silent sentinels counting down the ten minutes of carnage.

* * *

Henry

A mountain of forgotten documents lay in a pile on Henry's desk. The preparation for the city's defense was in full swing, pulling his already scattered attention in more directions than he cared to track. He had known it would be an uphill battle, but he had underestimated the scope. The city wasn't only threatened from outside—it was being eaten alive from within.

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He had expected the nobles to be a scourge. But their insidious tactics still managed to surprise him.

"You know what must be done," the booming voice of the Guild Leader, Gorin Brimwall, echoed in the room. "This is the best way forward."

The imposing man tapped a piece of paper with an encouraging smile. The simple parchment detailed a list of advantages for joining the Alliance, signed by every single noble household in the city. Only two things were missing: Henry's signature, and the mayor's seal.

The office was packed with those who had already sold their souls, smug faces lined up behind the Guild Leader. Their smiles might have fooled others, but Henry knew better than most what each greasy expression truly meant.

On paper, the terms looked appealing—promises of wealth, progress, and safety. In truth, it was nothing but unconditional surrender.

And lounging to the side, smirking as though he owned the place, sat the lynchpin of the farce: Silas Thorne, representative of the Alliance. He sprawled comfortably on a couch, five armed men standing like statues behind him. He hadn't forgotten being thrown out of the mansion. Now he was savoring this little performance, pressing Henry with a velvet glove over an iron fist.

It didn't feel like politics. It felt like sitting in a den of wolves.

"Even if I was to sign this…," Henry started in a controlled diplomatic tone. "It will be useless without the Mayor's seal."

"That…will be taken care of in due time," Thorne spoke up in a creepy voice. "We just want to make sure that we have a smooth takeover when the time comes."

Henry raised an eyebrow but didn't give away his true feelings. His fists clenched tighter though, a subtle cue that the conniving man picked up. Silas stood up boldly and walked over, dismissing the Guild Leader with a wave. The usually proud man hunched over submissively and stepped back.

Silas dropped into the chair across from Henry, making himself at home.

"Despite the disrespect you showed me," he began smugly. "I am willing to let you live in peace. You can be the butler of the new establishment, fitting considering your background."

Henry's suspicions hardened. They had done their homework. They knew where he came from.

"Besides," Silas continued, extending a hand. One of the nobles scurried forward to pour him wine. "Our mistress is generous. Even dogs find a place in her domain."

Henry didn't so much as flinch. He had heard far worse during his years bound to a noble house. Instead, he leaned back, studying the room. He was literally surrounded by enemy hounds, with no room for escape. And yet… he felt no fear. No panic. Nothing. In the past, this scene would have buckled his knees. But now, he only wondered why.

Silas prattled on, his voice dripping with pride. "This is the power of a rising sovereign. Before her enemies even realize what is going on, she swiftly ends the fight preemptively with one decisive blow. She always draws first blood. Unlike your pathetic wannabe Mayor."

That was what snapped Henry out of his reverie. Not the insult. Not the arrogance. But the mention of their Mayor.

And suddenly Henry understood. He knew why he wasn't afraid.

The Alliance representative was mid-sentence when Henry chuckled.

The sound cut through the room like a blade. Everyone either froze in confusion, or took pity on him, assuming that the pressure had driven Henry mad.

His chuckle grew into full laughter. A raw, unrestrained laugh that rang off the office walls.

"What is the meaning of this?" Silas demanded.

"Are you…okay? Gorin asked weakly, before shrinking back under Silas's glare.

"Sorry, sorry," Henry said, struggling through the laughter. "I understand you're trying to be intimidating; I truly do." He wiped at his eyes. "But this stack of documents, scared me more than your pathetic attempt."

"How dare you?" Silas snapped. "You don't know what is coming your way."

"No," Henry said simply. "You are the ones who don't know. Poor, blind fools—you don't even realize your mistake. I told you, this paperwork worries me more than you do."

"You certainly grew a spine since we met last," the leader of the adventuring party who came before Silas said while drawing his blade.

"Not really," Henry replied dismissively, not even reacting to the weapon. "I've just realized something"

"And what is that?" Silas growled.

"The reason why I don't seem to fear you. It's quite simple, really. I have experienced true terror."

"You have done no such thing," Silas sneered. "When you stand before our mistress—"

"Is she an Awakened?" Henry interrupted.

Silas barked a laugh. "She doesn't have to be. You think the Aura of some fledgling ice mage compares to her genius, her royal blood?"

Henry tilted his head, scanning the room. He even leaned to peek under the table, then shrugged.

"Strange," he said lightly. "Where is she, then? You claim this is her first strike—her glorious first blood. And yet, I don't even see her shadow."

"YOU DARE?" Silas shot to his feet, fury twisting his face. His men drew steel.

The other henchmen too drew their weapons. And yet Henry sat there unafraid.

"Lower your weapons," Henry commanded, his voice iron. "Or incur System penalties and be banned from my city."

Seeing that he wasn't joking the weapons were stowed away in a rush. He then turned to the wide eyed representative.

"I am not talking about the weak Aura of a fledgling ice mage," Henry said coldly. "I'm talking about the one who stands behind her. I've felt his Aura. You haven't. Because if you had, you wouldn't have dared step foot in this city."

Henry picked up the paper and deposited it in his inventory. It was evidence after all.

"We only meant to weed out the problematic ones among you," he said, meeting each noble's eyes. "But it seems we'll have to uproot the entire system instead. So be it. I hereby strip you all of your noble Titles. You have two days to leave this city. Stay longer, and you will be marked red."

Gasps swept the room. Protest followed instantly:

"You can't—"

"My family has served for generations—"

"I was forced into this—"

Henry silenced them with ice in his tone.

"If you're still here after the grace period, there will be no trials. No hearings. You will be killed on sight. Those are the Mayor's orders."

He dropped an official decree onto the desk—the one Lord Fenrast had given him for such an occasion. The effect was immediate: a hush of fear rippled outward.

"You will regret this," Silas growled.

In response, Henry stood up and went around the desk. He towered before the much shorter man as he spoke in a low voice.

"Let me fix some of your misunderstandings," Henry said coldly. "Your mistress is delusional if she thinks she can take over this city without a fight. And you are delusional if you think that she will succeed."

For the first time, Silas faltered. He stepped back, fear breaking through his sneer. Even his men exchanged uneasy glances.

A firm hand rested on Henry's shoulder as Gorin stepped between him and Silas.

"I think we all need to calm down," Gorin said with a placating gesture. "Let me smooth things over, representative Thorne. I will talk—"

"There will be no more talks, Guild Leader Brimwall," Henry cut him off sharply. "I do not have the authority to strip you of your position, but rest assured, there will be consequences of your actions today."

"You've lost your mind!" Gorin snapped. "You put faith in a pathetic tyrant who hides in the woods while we are surrounded! A true royalty leads the Alliance. What right does your so-called Mayor have to rule?"

Henry didn't answer. He didn't need to. Because at that moment, the crystal on Silas's hip flared.

He pressed it to his ear—then dropped it as a scream ripped through the office.

"HELP! Send help! The shadows—the shadows—!"

The voice cut off in a gurgle.

The room froze. Everyone had heard it. A desperate battle. A slaughter.

Everyone except Henry looked shaken. He knew exactly what the sound meant. And a slow, sinister smile curved his lips.

"You ask why I have faith in him?" Henry said, voice swelling with pride. "Because unlike your so-called sovereign, our Mayor faces his enemies openly. He doesn't need hollow titles granted by cowards. He has earned his right to rule with his own strength."

Sweat slid down Silas's brow. Several nobles shrank back, as if Henry's words were heavy blows, and not mere words.

Henry let the silence linger, then stepped forward until his shadow swallowed Silas whole.

"Let this be the last lesson you learn today," Henry declared, his voice cold and unyielding. "He is a true sovereign, not because someone permitted it. Not because of blood or birthright. But because he chose it. Because he stands where others falter. Because he forges ahead, no matter the odds."

His eyes swept the room, pinning each trembling noble in place.

"And if the day ever comes when we are to fall…" Henry's voice dropped to a razor whisper, "he will be the last one standing. And his vengeance will not be denied."

He saw it then—the flicker of doubt crossing the Guild Leader's face. The dawning realization of a mistake too late to undo.

In their arrogance, they had rushed. In their greed, they had tried to claim what was never theirs.

And now they had made the worst mistake of all.

They had encroached on the Domain of a predator.

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