After a series of amazements, they finally arrive at the grand palace. Its sheer size alone is overwhelming, its towering spires reaching into the sky, polished stone reflecting the golden glow of the enchanted lights lining its walls.
The soldiers march in silence, their heads tilting back as they take in the scale of the palace. But what truly makes them stop in their tracks is the sight of the being guarding the entrance.
A monster clad in golden armor.
The figure stands motionless, exuding an aura of sheer dominance. The polished plates of its armor gleam under the soft glow of the palace’s light, reflecting distorted images of the soldiers staring at it. Though its face is hidden behind an ornate helm, its presence alone is suffocating.
One of the soldiers gulps. "That’s not just any guard…"
A deep, resounding hum echoes as the enchanted gates part effortlessly, revealing the throne chamber within.
The moment they step inside, even the most disciplined soldiers fail to suppress their gasps.
The throne room is colossal.
It’s so large that the thousands of soldiers present could fit inside without issue, yet the space remains open, grand, and imposing. Towering pillars carved with intricate symbols line the hall, stretching toward a ceiling that seems endlessly high. Massive chandeliers of floating crystal illuminate the chamber in a soft, ethereal glow. The polished marble floor reflects their figures as they move forward, every step sending faint echoes through the vast space.
And then their eyes finally land on the throne.
Seated atop a raised platform of dark stone, a figure sits upon a throne of black and gold.
Alix.
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The soldiers freeze in place.
The weight of his presence alone is enough to send a shiver down their spines. Draped in regal attire, his posture is relaxed yet commanding, one hand resting on the armrest of his throne. The golden accents of his dark clothing glint under the chandelier’s glow, and his piercing gaze watches them in silence.
For a long moment, no one moves. No one speaks.
Then, in perfect unison, the soldiers drop to one knee, fists over their chests.
A single, thunderous voice erupts from the thousands present.
"Glory to His Majesty!"
Alix watches them kneel before him, thousands of soldiers unified in a single salute.
His voice is calm yet commanding as he speaks.
"Rise."
The soldiers obey immediately, standing tall as they wait for his next words.
"As I promised, you will be rewarded."
Excitement ripples through the ranks, though they remain disciplined, standing at full attention.
Alix’s gaze shifts. "Sorin, come forward."
She stiffens for a moment before stepping forward confidently. Yet, as she approaches the throne and looks up at him, something unexpected happens.
For a brief second, she sees him not just as a king but as something more. The way he sits upon the throne, his aura exuding absolute authority, the sharp intensity in his eyes—it sends an unfamiliar thrill through her chest. Her heart beats faster.
She crushes the feeling instantly, suppressing it deep within her. Now is not the time for such distractions.
Stopping a few paces before him, she kneels once more. "Your Majesty."
Alix regards her for a moment before speaking.
"I will officially bestow upon you the title of Commander," he declares. "From this moment on, these soldiers will be under your command."
Sorin quickly lowers her head. "I am honored, Your Majesty. I will not disappoint you."
"I expect nothing less," Alix replies.
He then addresses the entire army. "Apart from your promotions, each of you will receive a Tier One skill or spell of your choosing."
This time, the murmurs turn into barely restrained excitement. Soldiers exchange glances, fists tightening with anticipation. Skills were not easily obtained, and receiving one directly from their king was an honor beyond measure.
But Alix isn’t finished. His next words silence the entire chamber.
"However, there is one more reward I will grant you."
He lifts his hand, and a soft glow of energy swirls at his fingertips.
"This skill is special. It will allow you to fight as one—your minds and movements linked in battle. With it, you will be able to challenge foes far beyond your current strength."
Sorin’s breath catches slightly. A skill that unites an entire army? That isn’t just powerful—it’s terrifying.
The soldiers, initially unsure of what he meant, slowly come to the same realization. Their expressions shift from excitement to pure awe.
Alix’s voice carries a final weight as he looks over them.
"With this power, you will no longer be just soldiers." His eyes gleam. "You will be an unbreakable force."
Silence reigns. Then, a single voice erupts from the crowd, raw with fervor.
"Glory to His Majesty!"
The cry spreads like wildfire, the soldiers’ voices rising in a deafening roar.
"Glory to His Majesty!"
Their king has given them power.
And they will follow him to the ends of the world.
-----
The return to Delon City is not without tension.
Sorin, now officially a commander, leads the soldiers through the familiar streets alongside Thurn, Nyssara, Veltha, and Gorth. The once-deserted city is slowly coming back to life, yet the air remains thick with unease.
The humans who had remained in Delon after its fall keep their distance, watching the armed monsters with wary eyes. Though there have been no reports of violence, the deeply ingrained fear lingers—monsters and humans cannot coexist. That is what they have always believed.
But the reality before them challenges that belief.
Word has spread beyond Delon’s walls. Whispers travel among the merchant caravans—dangerous rumors, impossible ones.
"The city is open to trade."
"Humans are safe under the rule of the monsters."
"The monsters… they’re selling high-grade weapons."
It is this last rumor that finally draws the boldest merchants into the city.
Among them is Roderic, a seasoned trader with a keen nose for opportunity. He stands at the edge of the bustling marketplace, watching, disbelieving.
The sight before him defies logic.