"Have General Lawrence send a message to the heretic, tell him to stand down."

Marquis Raven ordered sternly, raising his hand in a gesture that signalled everyone to start and prepare a camp.

He already knew what Justinian's answer would likely be, but he was merciful and benevolent, in his own eyes at least.

This was his way of showing that, showing that even in war, he was kind enough to give a warning to an enemy of the gods.

*** Thirell Duchy - Herdrin ***

General Lawrence and his cavalry began their advance, scouting the area ahead as they rode fast to deliver their lord's message.

And all the way, their concern grew bigger and bigger the closer they got to the capital.

The entirety of the duchy had already planned for war.

"General... the towns are empty..." A soldier on horseback beside Lawrence yelled out, checking out the nearby settlement of Herdin.

"I see that."

Lawrence's heart was pumping, fear creeping into him; he had already read the reports of Justinian's old tactics. He was a foe he didn't want to face on the battlefield.

Even if he hadn't seen him firsthand, the sheer brutality of what was recorded was enough to terrify him.

"It seems they've already made their decision before we even arrived."

Lawrence bit his tongue; it seemed they were already at a disadvantage.

*** Snowkeep - Gate Battlements ***

"Cavalry coming directly north!"

The soldier in the battlements yelled out, blowing his horn as he alerted all the archers that were already in formation to draw their bows.

"It's a messenger!"

Captain Caesus spoke, one who was assigned to maintain the walls; he's experience as a messenger himself and further training had solidified him into a master.

"Should we lower our weapons, my lord?"

"No, keep them aimed, I want them to feel fear."

"Would that not be a violation of the law?"

"Damn the law, that doesn't apply to a holy war."

Caesus spat out bitterly, placing one foot on the battlement's railings as the cavalry began to inch closer in the distance.

"Give me that bow."

He commanded, grabbing the bow from the soldier's hands as he carefully calculated the trajectory, Justinian's blessings and his experience in war turning him into a steeled hunter.

FWOOSH!

The arrow flew quickly and fast as he released it, heading straight for the general's head.

"My lord! Watch out!"

SWISH!

The arrow had barely grazed Lawrence's helmet, sparks flying as the arrow merely slid past the steel.

He was just a few inches away from death, and he knew it, but what was even more strange and ominous... was that it was on purpose.

The face of the archer from beyond, he released, was looking at him coldly, like he was beneath him in every way possible.

A skill he had never even heard about, all records had shown that only Lucan should be able to aim a bow with skill such as that.

But the figure beyond was not Lucan; in fact, it was a nobody, someone he hadn't known about, yet his skill was beyond breathtaking.

"My lord! Are you okay!?"

The other cavalry began to form themselves in front of him, some dismounting and surrounding him with shields to protect him from danger.

Meanwhile, back at the battlements, Caesus left the walls with satisfaction; he had done his part. destroy the morale of one of the enemy's highest-ranked generals.

"Let them in, Lord Justinian would want to speak with them."

*** Snowkeep – Outer Courtyard ***

The heavy gates groaned open.

Snow scattered as hooves struck the cobblestones, and a dozen riders entered under the wary aim of hundreds of archers stationed above the walls. Their white and gold banners hung limp, weighed down by frost and fear.

General Lawrence dismounted first.

His armor was polished, gleaming faintly even under the gray sky. But the eyes beneath his helm were haunted. Every step he took toward the inner courtyard echoed like judgment.

Waiting for him was Justinian.

The duke stood beside Lucan and Fenrix, wearing his black winter cloak, no crown, no ornament, only the symbol of his duchy clasped at his shoulder. Behind him, his captains formed a silent wall.

Lawrence stopped a dozen paces away, saluting stiffly. "By order of Marquis Raven of the Holy Allied Territories, I bear a message."

"Then speak," Justinian said.

Lawrence hesitated, the parchment in his hand trembling just slightly. "By decree of the church and His Grace, the Marquis Raven, you are commanded to stand down and submit your lands for holy arbitration. All heretical texts, symbols, and research are to be surrendered. In exchange, your people shall be spared the wrath of Arethrus."

A cold silence followed.

Snow fell thicker now, dusting the edges of Justinian's cloak. He stared at Lawrence as though studying an artifact of the past, a man repeating words he did not believe.

"You came all this way," Justinian said at last, his voice calm but low, "to tell me to kneel?"

"I came," Lawrence replied, "to give you mercy."

Lucan's hand twitched toward his sword, but Justinian raised a finger, halting him.

"Mercy..." Justinian echoed, stepping forward. His boots crunched over the snow. "Tell me, General, how confident are you in fighting an army in a terrain you are not familiar with? In terrain that my men had survived in for years... the same men who shattered a superior army once before."

Lawrence flinched, lips tightening, but he did not answer.

"I see," Justinian murmured. "Then you understand why I can't comply."

He gestured subtly to the side. A pair of soldiers approached, holding a sealed letter bound in black wax.

"Take this to your lord," Justinian said, his tone now absolute, regal. "My answer, in writing. Tell Marquis Raven that the snow remembers every drop of blood it drinks, and it is thirsty still."

Lawrence took the letter with a stiff nod, though his hands shook. "Then... there will be war."

Justinian gave a thin, humorless smile. "There already is."

As Lawrence turned and mounted his horse, Lucan leaned close to Justinian. "Should I have him shadowed?"

"No," Justinian said. "Let him deliver the message. I will not waste precious men in such a useless maneuver."

He looked to the distant horizon where the crusader banners fluttered in the cold air; compared to the climate of the center, Snowkeep was as harsh as it could be.

"Prepare camps near the forest, have a cavalry unit ready there, we'll strike at his siege engines before they even get a chance to fire their first volley."

Lucan grinned grimly. "Aye, my lord. It seems like a hidden cavalry unit is beginning to become your signature."

Justinian's eyes narrowed, a quiet gleam of something sharper than vengeance flashing there.

"It is effective, is it not?"

He smiled.

Justinian was slowly getting more accustomed to his ducal persona.

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