News of the Sanctuary Enclave's symbol appearing in Verodawn Forest, along with Raum's death and the unusual formation of a Lifestream vein, caused tremors not only in Zephyros but also in the black societies. It was like a stone cast into the placid lake of Tehra's power balance, creating ripples that spread to distant kingdoms, awakening dormant ambitions and ancient fears.

At the Capital of the Kingdom of Klariz - West of Zephyros.

In the royal grand hall of Klariz, crimson carpets stretched long and marble columns soared to the ceiling. King Drenor sat on his pure gold throne, his expression contemplative. This king was renowned for his wisdom and ambition, constantly seeking to expand Klariz's influence. Before him, two generals in gleaming armor, their powerful demigod auras overwhelmingly dominant, stood solemnly.

"What are your thoughts on the information Londor just sent from Aerion?" King Drenor's deep voice resonated, and his commanding gaze settled on each of his confidants in turn. "A member of the Sanctuary Enclave has appeared in Zephyros. That individual, somehow, created or awakened a Lifestream vein and is connected to Raum's death. Will our plans in Zephyros be affected?".

The silver-haired general, the elder of the two, Arinos, respectfully replied: "Your Majesty, I believe we should proceed with our plans. The appearance of a Sanctuary member, though unexpected, is not necessarily a direct threat to Klariz. Their objectives concern Tehra as a whole; they rarely interfere in disputes between nations, unless those disputes risk large-scale destruction".

The other general, Marse, younger but no less imposing, continued: "Your Majesty, both Queen of the Chess Society and Londor of the Gilded Veil have confirmed Laurent's capabilities and reliability. The plan he outlined to weaken Zephyros is a once-in-a-millennium opportunity. We should not miss this chance due to an unclear variable. Weakening Zephyros strengthens Klariz".

King Drenor nodded, his fingers tapping lightly on the armrest of his throne. He glanced at Naphel, his close advisor, an old man with a silver beard, who always stood silently beside the throne. "Naphel, what do you think?".

"Your Majesty," Naphel slowly replied, his voice gentle but weighty, "the two generals have spoken wisely. The plan Laurent has committed to us, even if it fails, will cause Klariz almost no significant loss. But if successful, Zephyros will fall far behind us. This is indeed an offer too good to refuse".

He paused, the gears of a political mind turning visibly behind his calm facade. "Besides, the appearance of a Sanctuary member in Zephyros, as General Arinos mentioned, is not necessarily directly related to us. Whatever disaster befalls Zephyros, it is their burden to bear. We can even observe from the sidelines, prepare for our next moves, or even exploit the chaotic situation to increase our influence".

King Drenor smiled with satisfaction. These analyses reinforced his determination. "Good! Continue with the plan as intended. Increase military activity on the border with Zephyros, but under the guise of defense and precaution against spreading instability. Simultaneously, intensify espionage and reconnaissance throughout Klariz territory. I want no unnecessary involvement with those Sanctuary fiends. Let Zephyros solve its own problems". King Drenor's command echoed through the grand hall, carrying the weight of cold political calculations and expansionist ambitions.

At the Prosperous Royal Capital of Loren - East of Zephyros.

A great distance from Klariz, to the east of Zephyros, lay the Kingdom of Loren, a land of fertile plains, with vast fields yielding countless types of food. The aging King Aldric had also just received the shocking news from Zephyros. The aging King Aldric's expression hardened, the wrinkles on his face deepening under the faint light of the magical fireplace.

"Those Sanctuary bastards..." he hissed, his voice raspy with age and unconcealed hatred. "This time they've appeared in Zephyros. Good! good! Who knows what calamity will strike Zephyros next?". His voice held no concern for his former ally, only gloating and anticipation. The ancient feud between Loren and Zephyros, though temporarily subdued by fragile peace treaties, always smoldered.

"Your Majesty," a clear but firm female voice rang out. Princess Lyreth, King Aldric's youngest daughter, a true warrior despite her youth, stepped forward. She wore intricately crafted silver armor, her ice-blue hair neatly braided. "Should we not reinforce our military presence on the Zephyros border? When they face turmoil, we can immediately seize the opportunity to benefit Loren".

An elderly minister, clad in thick furs, quickly interjected with a fawning tone: "Your Majesty, Princess Lyreth's insight is most astute! With a Sanctuary Enclave member appearing, it's only a matter of time before Zephyros encounters trouble. We can absolutely take advantage of their chaos to gain significant benefits".

King Aldric cackled, a sinister smile on his dry lips. "Lyreth, my dear daughter," he said, his voice full of pride, "you always think as I do. Excellent! You shall personally lead the grand army to garrison the southern border, adjacent to Zephyros. Act as you see fit! Show those Zephyros fools that Loren never sleeps".

"As you command, Father!" Princess Lyreth bowed to accept the order, a belligerent energy suddenly radiating from her. She had awaited this opportunity for a long time.

In the Divine Kingdom Alliance of Celestarch.

Further north of Loren, on windswept plateaus and valleys harboring ancient temples, the Divine Kingdom Alliance of Celestarch, a powerful coalition of theocratic states, also received the news. In a grand hall of grey granite, where flags bearing the symbols of the Gods of War and Wisdom flew, King Gilgamesh, a legendary warrior with a fiery red mane like a lion's and demigod strength capable of moving mountains, presided from an ivory throne.

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"Your Majesty Gilgamesh," an old king in moonstone-adorned robes asked, his voice tinged with anxiety and reverence, "the world has recorded that you once confronted and repelled a member of the Sanctuary Enclave in the past. What is your opinion on them appearing again in Zephyros, a central power, and closer to our southern border than we thought?".

Gilgamesh nodded slightly, his gaze distant as if recalling a past battle. "It is true I once encountered one of them," he confirmed, his voice as deep and resonant as thunder. "It was a brutal war. He was powerful and cunning. Though I managed to repel him, the price was not small. The Kingdom of Caelvorn, a loyal member of our alliance at the time, was completely destroyed by his plans before I could intervene further. And that bastard himself, though gravely wounded, still escaped my grasp". A long, faint scar running down Gilgamesh's bare arm served as a silent testament to the fierceness of that battle.

"I've heard it said," another old king, known for his sarcasm, spoke, "wherever the Sanctuary Enclave appears, it is an ill omen. Though no one knows their ultimate purpose. People only know for certain that crazy and explosive events will occur whenever the name Sanctuary is uttered. They are like black crows heralding disaster".

"Or rather, comets," another king added. "Bringing strange light and unpredictable changes".

"I've never heard anything good when the name Sanctuary is mentioned," another opinion voiced, followed by worried whispers and discussions.

"It's a pity we are too far from Zephyros," a belligerent-looking king lamented. "Otherwise, marching troops there, or at least applying pressure, could yield considerable benefits while they are in disarray".

Gilgamesh listened silently, his gaze still on the old scar. He knew better than anyone the power and unpredictability of the Sanctuary Enclave. They did not act for national or factional interests. They acted for some larger, more mysterious purpose, and often, the price for their intervention was incredibly steep.

At the Prosperous Kingdom of Marevia - South of Zephyros.

When the news reached Marevia, the prosperous coastal kingdom south of Zephyros, famous for its endless seafood resources and powerful merchant fleets, the reaction was entirely different. King Rowan, a gaunt man whose eyes nonetheless shone with a sickly light, burst into mad laughter upon hearing the news. He was in his lavish office overlooking the bustling seaport.

"It's here! It's finally here!" he shouted, his voice full of glee. "Attendants! Continue stockpiling food! Gather everything edible! We're about to have a massive transaction!".

"Your Majesty," a timid courtier reported, "the food we have stored is already enough for all of Marevia for five years. The storehouses are full".

"Five years for us, but for those wealthy Zephyros, it's only enough for 18 months! Not enough!" Rowan roared, his eyes bloodshot. "Double the current amount for me! Within three month! And what about the fish? Have we caught all the fish in our waters yet?".

"Your Majesty, the fish in the nearshore areas have almost all been caught. The fishermen say there aren't many fish left to catch," the official continued worriedly.

Rowan paused for a beat, then a sinister smile returned to his lips. "Order them to sail further out! There will definitely be fish in the coming days! I assure you, the sea will be more generous than ever! You'll even catch rarer species!". His face suddenly hardened, a distorted, obsessive expression. "Remember! Trade all the caught fish for food, grain, salted meat, anything that can be preserved long-term! Within three month, you must gather the amount I demand! Otherwise, I will use you all as bait to catch those fish!".

In the cold grand hall of Marevia, only the twisted, sick laughter of the notoriously cruel King Rowan echoed, hinting at some mad plan and an opportunity only he perceived.

At the Savage Warring State of Orvahn.

Elsewhere, in Orvahn, a kingdom of mighty warriors, where law was decided by strength and honor measured by scars on the battlefield, King Uron Masher, a true demigod, the embodiment of battle madness and violence, also received the news. He showed no worry or calculation. Instead, he slammed his hand on the throne and burst out laughing. His laugh echoed through the grand encampment, the laugh of a bloodthirsty man who had just found his prey.

"Prepare yourselves, warriors of Orvahn!" Uron bellowed, his shout echoing through the grand encampment, shaking the animal-hide tents. "We are about to bathe in blood on the battlefield! The scent of war is here again!".

"Your Majesty," an old general, who had followed Uron through countless battles, cautiously spoke, "Zephyros is far from us. Is it worth...".

"We are not attacking Zephyros!" Uron interrupted, his laughter booming. "We will crush those bastards! What do you say?". He didn't specify who, but it seemed all Orvahn warriors understood.

"DEATH TO THOSE BASTARDS!" A unified roar erupted, from generals, soldiers, to even the court officials accustomed only to documents, all burning with the same hatred and thirst for battle. It seemed there was a common enemy that all of Orvahn deeply detested.

"That damn Laurent," Uron muttered, the smile on his lips growing more delighted and mysterious. "I greatly anticipate your upcoming performance in Aerion".

At the City of Natsmunda - Center of the Celestial Accord Alliance.

Located southeast of Zephyros, amidst majestic mountain ranges and primeval forests, lay Natsmunda, the strangest city in Tehra, where the Celestial Accord Alliance had its headquarters. Natsmunda was not only famous for its unique vertical architecture reaching for the sky, but also for the periodic "Monster Tide," attracting the most elite warriors from all over to test their mettle.

In the central white marble building of the Celestial Accord, an organization uniting over a hundred large and small associations recognized and permitted to operate openly by nations, specializing in maintaining order, exterminating monsters, and other unusual threats across Tehra, Grand Master Mythris had also just finished reading the urgent report from Zephyros.

His handsome face, belonging to one reputed to be among the strongest warriors of the younger generation, showed no change in expression. He silently took out a piece of parchment, quickly wrote a few lines, and handed it to the attendant standing solemnly beside him.

"Deliver my message to all the associations on this list," Mythris ordered, his voice cold but authoritative.

The attendant bowed respectfully. "Yes, Grand Master. What message shall I convey to them?". He glanced at the paper, on which were the names of over forty of the most powerful associations in the Alliance.

"Prepare your most elite members," Mythris replied, his gaze looking out the window towards distant Zephyros. "Ready to depart for Zephyros. Immediately".

The attendant swallowed hard, a sense of unease and anxiety washing over him. Over forty of the most elite associations. That meant Grand Master Mythris was determined to bring nearly half of the entire Celestial Accord's main military strength to Zephyros. No one knew why, but such an order could only signal an extremely fierce war or an unprecedented threat about to occur in Zephyros.

And so, from lavish palaces to wild plains, from black societies hidden in darkness to righteous alliances operating in the light, news of the Sanctuary Enclave's symbol in Zephyros ignited different fires, ambition, fear, opportunity, and even destruction. Tehra's chessboard of power trembled once more, and the most powerful pieces were beginning to move.

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