The cold wind around Cassia gradually softened as the duel's tension faded. Justinian still had one hand on her shoulder, steadying himself from the intensity of their clash, but his eyes remained focused on her sword, on the thin, eternal frost whispering along its edge.
"Winterfang…" he murmured. "To think you'd be able to handle its trials this early..."
Cassia only huffed in amusement, twirling the blade with newfound confidence. "I told you, didn't I? I wasn't going to let you do everything alone."
Justinian smiled at that, a tired, relieved smile that felt more real than anything he had expressed in days. "And I'm glad you reminded me."
Silence lingered between them, comfortable and shared. Only the faint hum of cold mana filled the ruins, flickering like the breath of a slumbering giant.
Then Justinian's expression shifted.
"Cassia… how long did you think you were gone for?"
"Huh?" She blinked. "It felt like a few hours."
Justinian exhaled slowly. "You disappeared at night. It's been… almost an entire day."
Her eyes widened. "So I wasn't imagining it."
He nodded. "The moment I noticed your absence, I used my ability, but your presence was… unreachable. Like the ruin swallowed you whole."
His jaw tightened. "I thought I had lost you."
Cassia softened. For once, she didn't deflect with humor. "I'm here, Justinian. And stronger than ever."
He looked at her, truly looked, and the tension in his shoulders finally melted.
"…Good. We'll need that strength soon."
Cassia frowned. "Ilmund?"
Justinian nodded, expression hardening. "Ilmund. And everything tied to him."
He turned toward the exit. Sunlight spilled through the cracked stone archway, bathing the ruins in pale gold. Outside, the camp was beginning to stir, soldiers, attendants, and retainers all preparing for the upcoming battle.
The ceasefire was now coming to a close.
Cassia followed him, but something tugged at her chest, a whisper of frost curling beneath her ribs.
Winterfang pulsed faintly, as if responding to a distant call.
Justinian noticed her pause. "What is it?"
Cassia shook her head. "Nothing. Just… the sword is reacting to something."
Justinian's gaze sharpened. "A warning?"
"A direction," she corrected. "It feels like it's pointing toward Ilmund. Or… something tied to him."
Justinian exhaled sharply. "I'm guessing Northros and Arethrus are reacting to each other."
Before Cassia could question him, a soldier sprinted toward them from the camp.
"My lord! Lady Cassia!" He stopped, breathless. "A messenger from the northern outpost just arrived, urgent! He says Ilmund's forces have begun to move!"
Justinian's jaw tightened. The air around him shifted, the calm ruler replaced by the strategic lord.
"So it begins."
Cassia gripped Winterfang, frost spreading beneath her feet like a quiet vow.
"Then let's finish this."
Justinian glanced at her, eyes burning with trust.
"Let's show them my new defenses firsthand then."
***
On the battlements of the first wall of Snowkeep stood all of Justinian's army.
Each one fully fed and armed to the teeth.
It was the same as when the siege first started, but the difference?
The walls themselves had now changed to complement his elite army.
Justinian stepped up onto the ramparts, Cassia walking beside him as her breath caught in her throat. It wasn't the magic that stunned her; they all knew Justinian had used his magic to restore the fortress.
It was the scale.
Snowkeep's fortifications now stood as a full-fledged defensive system: three layers deep, with each wall taller and thicker than the last. The angled towers rose at precise intervals, forming overlapping kill zones. The gatehouse had been expanded into a reinforced chokepoint, and new battlements lined the parapets with carefully measured spacing.
It was unmistakably modeled after the legendary Theodosian Walls.
Cassia exhaled. "…It seems like you've finished up while I was gone."
Justinian smirked lightly. "I had Martin and Darius to thank for that; they finished up the job while I was looking for you."
He rested his hands behind his back, gaze scanning the lines.
"These walls were always strong, but I rebuilt them to new standards. Height, thickness, layered depth. The old structure was serviceable… I merely completed what my ancestors never finished."
Cassia walked to the edge, gloved fingers running across the stone. It was cold, but not with magic, pure, solid stone, shaped with precision and manpower.
"I've never seen a design like this before," she said, impressed.
"That makes sense," Justinian replied. "It's a design meant to be special, something every army here shouldn't know how to besiege. Once I had used my abilities to repair the foundation, the labourers could do the rest quickly."
Cassia blinked. "How did you coordinate something like that so fast?"
"It was simple," Justinian said. "The information was already laid out in the compendium; nearly half the labourers knew about it."
Below them, soldiers moved smoothly across the battlements, archers in neat lines, spearmen positioned between them, engineers maintaining ballistae and trebuchets newly installed along the upper levels. Others ferried crates of bolts, water, arrows, and sand toward their designated stations.
It was still Snowkeep.
But now it looked like a fortress built to stop an empire.
A sergeant approached them and saluted. "My lord, the men have taken positions along the first and second lines. Supplies stored. Oil heated on your command."
"Good," Justinian replied with a nod.
Cassia glanced at him. "That was a new face."
"Lucan promoted him after the first battle, a way to keep morale stable, he says."
And speak of the devil, the man arrived himself.
"My duke, did you manage to find Cassia—?"
He stopped.
"What the hell are you wearing? Are you a warrior or a princess?"
Lucan shared the same opinion as Uriel.
'Is he a secret love child of the Thirell family or something...?'
Cassia couldn't help but think, the more she thought about it, he could literally be a second Uriel Thirell.
"Don't worry, Marshal, it's just as tough as any other material."
"You mean to tell me she found treasure in a ruin that was already picked dry years ago?"
"To be frank... yes."
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