*** Snowkeep Palace – Duke's Quarters, Midnight ***

The fire had long since gone out.

The room was dim, lit only by the moonlight that bled through the tall windows. The snow outside glowed faintly, giving the chamber a pale, ghostly calm. On the desk beside him, the original copy of the Old World Compendium sat open, half-read, half-forgotten, its pages trembling slightly in the cold draft.

Justinian leaned back in his chair, fingers pressing against his temple. The debate with the priests had drained him more than any campaign.

Not because of fear, but because of how familiar it all felt.

"Every empire," he muttered, "fears education more than rebellion."

He exhaled, eyes flicking toward the half-empty glass of wine on his table. For once, the palace was quiet. No scribes rushing through the corridors, no generals demanding reports. Just the hum of silence and the faint beating of his heart.

[The Book of War Responds]

[Army Swordsmanship Increased]

The words burned across his vision, glowing faintly before fading into the air.

He straightened immediately.

"Been a while since I got that notification..."

He stretched, feeling his body tremble slightly. He had spent most of the day outside observing the distribution of knowledge, and the cold that came with it definitely affected him.

"I wonder if I could recreate heaters..."

He laughed, looking at the dead fireplace, reminding him how cold the climate actually is; it was even a miracle this duchy still existed.

"I'll sort out the results of the census tomorrow; for now, I'll just have to entertain my system."

Justinian changed into something fitting for sleeping, heading to the bed with a tired groan as he got himself comfortable.

Even now, his silks were still unbelievably comfortable; it's one of the best rewards he could think of after a long day of work.

*** Dream ***

As Justinian drifted off into sleep, once again, he found himself in somewhere foreign.

But instead of the dark void in the past, or the icy death in the second, this time was far more different.

It was lush, vibrant, a land full of vast riches and wealth with weather of endless springs.

It was a ruler's dream landscape, it promised imaginable riches and prosperity to anyone who had it, Archduke Augustus being one of them.

"What is it this time...?"

FWOOSH!

[Lordsworn Equipment]

SLASH!

An arrow came flying, aimed at Justinian, but just like usual, it was easily blocked. With how he had performed at the ball and his capital, he was now a legend in combat.

A skill he barely even used after the rebellion.

"Kill the heretic!"

"Burn the warlock!"

A flurry of voices came from beyond the field just out of sight; the only thing slightly visible were banners that were held high.

There were dozens of them at least, even hundreds.

Holy Banners, each one having the coat of arms of the Holy Reman Marquisate, a territory that was situated directly in the middle of the kingdom, one led by Marquis Raven.

A devotee and one of the novel's earliest main antagonists.

THUD!

Justinian felt a hand touch his shoulder; it was Cassia, wearing her complete armor, and behind was even more.

A full-on army, the entire military of his entire duchy, ready and motivated to fight.

"My duke! Lord Augustus is asking us to hold on for now... apparently, he'll need time to arrive."

Lucan spoke, riding his mount as he gazed into the distance.

FWOOSH!

The entire landscape immediately shifted, but instead of an open field was replaced with the cold terrain of Snowkeep.

Justinian was now directly above the walls, this time surrounded with enemy soldiers and siege engines; his entire capital was now under siege by the same Marquis.

"Where's your false divinity now!?"

The marquis yelled out from his formation below, protected by a company of towering shield-bearers who protected him from all harm.

And beside him... was Father Regulus and Verdant.

They had turned traitor.

'Is this a vision of the future?'

Before he even knew it, he felt a sudden pain in his chest. It was a dagger, one that pierced through the back parts of his armor that wasn't fully protected.

"What!?"

He looked behind, and there he saw it, an assassin wearing full white, already making a run for it.

And behind him was Fenrix, running towards him with worry.

'Huh...?'

Justinian could only mumble as he felt himself losing consciousness, his entire body going limp as he stumbled forward, sending himself over the wall's railings and over the walls and into the waiting enemy's hands.

[The Book of War Responds]

[Vision: 1000 Prestige]

'Did it just... bill me?'

*** Snowkeep Palace – Dawn ***

Justinian woke to the sound of a bell tolling from the lower city. His breath came sharp, his clothes damp with sweat.

Lucan's voice called from the other side of the door. "My duke? The morning patrol reports something strange, a procession from the north, bearing the banners of the Holy Allied Territories."

The Holy Allied Territories was a powerful force within the center of the kingdom, it was led by three proclaimed holy rulers of a count, marquis, and a baron.

But they had enough power within the church to even surpass their supposed titles, an army of thousands just at their beck and call.

It was the first major war that Julius had to face in the novel, and funnily enough, the procession also happened in the novel.

But it seems like they now had another target in mind, or at least, a second target to worry about.

Justinian blinked, pushing himself upright. His reflection in the nearby mirror looked pale, eyes shadowed by sleepless nights.

'Those damnable traitors...'

Justinian couldn't help but laugh bitterly.

It seems the peace in his duchy had now finally begun to end, and at the worst timing possible.

'If it still follows the novel's timeline... after the procession, I should have a week to prepare before they attack.'

'And if my second guess was correct... I could likely bring Julius to defend with me.'

Justinian stood up, feeling his muscles ache, his stiffness while sleeping being the cause of it.

'I'll show them the fires of hell they so truly want...'

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