Adventurers, soldiers, and civilians who could still fight had gathered at the beach near the harbor. The adventurers had been promised a hefty sum of mana crystals from the corpses of the incoming monster army in exchange for their cooperation. The soldiers and civilians, on the other hand, were the original residents of Vermaris, those who had chosen not to flee.
Around two hundred people stood together, a number far greater than expected.
They all understood the truth: this battle was suicide. War was imminent, and it would not end until a sufficient number of lives had been lost. Until then, the Rider of War would continue his march.
Not everyone had managed to escape. Despite their efforts, only 60% of the city's population had been safely evacuated. The rest were fated to die, unless they chose to fight. Some had stayed behind to protect their families, others because they had nowhere to run.
Truthfully, morale should have been at rock-bottom.
Yet, despite the grim reality, they were not consumed by despair. Instead, a strange rumor had spread through the remaining populace, a rumor too good to be true.
The lost prince.
The heir of the flames.
The Monarch of Fire.
They called him by many names.
His legend had begun four years ago, during the True Dragon Competition, where he had dominated all other contestants, standing above even the heirs of the major clans. He was one of the few individuals in the empire to awaken a legendary-ranked potential and had demonstrated exceptional mastery over sword and spear arts.
Following his victory, he had been entrusted with Cindervale, a struggling territory within the Ignisborne Clan. True to its name, the land was a barren wasteland, covered in ash, with its people suffering from sickness and lack of water. But in less than half a year, he transformed Cindervale, creating fertile land, water sources, and improving the livelihoods of its people. The cursed land myth was shattered by his efforts.
For the next three years, his name became synonymous with achievement.
One such moment stood out, when Cindervale was besieged by a necromancer's undead army. With only a handful of villagers and his personal guards, he held the territory for ten days straight without suffering a single casualty. On the eleventh day, as reinforcements arrived, he personally slew the necromancer, securing yet another legend under his name.
That man, the once-revered prodigy, had disappeared from the world one year ago after suffering a devastating injury.
And now, he was here.
He had returned.
He stood before them, declaring his intent to fight, when everyone else had abandoned them.
A hushed murmur spread through the gathered crowd.
"Is that really him?"
"But I heard he was injured beyond recovery."
"No one has seen him in over a year..."
A Familiar Voice
A woman with chestnut-brown hair, dressed in light armor, made her way toward Theon.
"Young master, preparations are complete."
"Father wishes to speak with you, along with the Bloodwolf party members. We need to review the strategy one last time."
She spoke firmly, yet there was a hint of concern in her voice.
Theon looked up, finishing his final sword maintenance before sheathing his blade.
"I see. Thank you, Dahlia. I'll be right there."
He stood up, and together, they walked toward the Lord's mansion.
For a few moments, silence stretched between them.
Theon was the first to break it.
"How is the situation in command?"
Dahlia answered without hesitation.
"As you know, young master, to execute the tactics you've proposed, we need full cooperation from the Bloodwolf Party."
"However, they still don't fully agree."
Her voice lowered slightly, hesitation creeping in.
"Because, in the end… this plan hinges on you sacrificing yourself."
"Your untimely demise is the most likely outcome."
Her grip tightened on the hilt of her sword.
"Lady Elara was particularly upset."
"She even threatened to drug you and drag you out of the battlefield if necessary."
At this, Theon chuckled softly.
"That sounds exactly like something she would do."
His golden eyes softened for a brief moment, but the resolve behind them did not waver.
"I have a lot to explain, to all of them."
"But this is the only way."
He exhaled, his voice calm yet firm.
"Once this battle is over, we'll have an honest talk."
Dahlia hesitated for a moment, sensing something unspoken in his words.
Theon continued, his gaze distant yet sharp.
"Though, I must say... they haven't been entirely truthful with me either."
Dahlia stiffened.
"They think I haven't noticed… but not a single person in the Bloodwolf Party is ordinary."
"Each of them is capable of shaking an entire nation."
His eyes flickered with understanding.
"I wonder… what exactly they're hiding."
With that thought lingering in his mind, Theon stepped forward and entered the war room.