The dull thud of the heavy doors echoed in Emperor Cassius’s ears, severing him from the outside world.
The vast throne hall, whose pompous decorations had inspired awe only a minute earlier, suddenly felt stifling, claustrophobic. The air pressed against his temples. The mosaics on the walls—once proud testaments to the feats of his ancestors—now looked different.
Like a child’s scrawlings…
So pitifully insignificant compared to the specter that had appeared on the horizon.
Cassius walked slowly toward the throne. Each footfall sliced through the ringing silence. Yet he did not sit. The tips of his impeccably manicured fingers brushed, then began to trace slow circles over the cold, mirror-smooth surface of the crystal armrest.
“Hrædwyll…”
The word reverberated inside his skull with an ancient, archaic resonance. It smelled of dusty tomes and the damp, primordial earth of a forest—one the Empire had long since burned away and forgotten. That scent now stung his nostrils.
*Who are you?*
The image of a figure in golden armor, not of this world, froze before his mind’s eye.
“An awakened god of a forgotten era?” He held his breath for a heartbeat. “Or… something far more dangerous?”
Silence. In the hall, only his own breathing could be heard. Answer me…! But the apparition said nothing. Only the crimson glimmer in its eyes continued to burn.
Cassius’s mind—honed by conspiracies and calculation—roared like a beast in fever. Logic and absurdity collided within him with an almost audible clash. Sparks flew in every direction.
The spy’s report. Too detailed. Too saturated with raw, primal terror. A fabrication? Don’t be absurd! It could not be invented.
No incantations. No gestures. One single sweep of a hand—and the Empire’s most seasoned assassins were erased from existence. Flame hurled down from the heavens.
Violetta’s words resurfaced: “This cannot be. No such law exists.”
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Her “laws.” But what if… they were merely local ordinances? Petty statutes in an infinite cosmos?
The thought struck him like a slap in the face. Humiliating. Yet at the same time intoxicating, like the strongest distillate.
His entire life, Cassius had believed himself at the apex of the pyramid of power. He had brought kings to their knees, bent the nobility to his will, even tamed magic itself. And only now did he realize: This pyramid… Might be nothing more than a sandcastle on an endless shore.
“Randel…” Cassius’s lips curled into a faint, disdainful smirk. “Poor, noble fool. How did you manage to catch the eye of something like that? Coincidence? Or… is there something in you I overlooked?”
He turned. His gaze fell upon the stained-glass window. Colored light danced across the floor. But now he saw something else. A symbol of dominion? No. A metaphor.
The dragon piercing the sun. He had always believed he was that dragon. But what if he was merely the image? A painted likeness on glass. While somewhere out there burned the real sun—alive, and whose single glance would be enough to reduce him to ash.
Fear. Yes, fear. A cold, slender needle pierced the core of his certainty. His heart clenched. But fear was an old companion. The fuel on which he had thrived. And now that fear transmuted, becoming something new. What is this…? An insatiable, all-consuming curiosity. Hunger.
“Destroy her?” Cassius whispered, his voice cracking. “No. Too crude. Too risky.”
A vision blossomed in his mind: the golden figure, her otherworldly armor bowed in submission before his throne. The image… such exquisite sweetness… stole his breath; it felt almost blasphemous.
Power that rewrote reality itself. To possess it. To be not merely emperor of a continent— but emperor of reality itself!
Cassius’s eyes blazed. The stained-glass light bathed his face in the crimson hues of draconic fire.
Subjugate a goddess? His mind raced at its limit. How does one catch the wind? With gold? Useless. With the threat of armies? Laughable. With flattery? Ridiculous. Her values… ancient, unknowable. Rules from another plane of existence.
Cassius strode to the colossal map of the continent that dominated the far wall. His footsteps rang loud in the empty hall. His gaze slid to Eichenwald. To the forest she had called “hers.”
You protect that forest? he silently asked the golden phantom. *From us? From humanity’s “destruction”?”
Then— A cold flame ignited in his chest.
I will show you exactly how destructive I can be. No need to rush. Slowly. Methodically. I will fell your beloved trees. Cruelly, unhurriedly. I will poison your rivers. And I will watch—
Will you emerge from your shadow then!
Drag her into the game. By our rules. Even if she does not know them!
The crimson light of the stained glass illuminated Cassius’s face. A smile appeared on his lips—not joyful, not cruel. The smile of a scientist who has discovered a new, perilous, infinitely promising specimen.
“The hunt begins,” he whispered.
His scarlet eyes ignited with cold fire. They flashed.
“But this time the quarry is no mere mortal. This time the quarry is legend itself.”
Let us see whether a legend can withstand the full might of the modern world.
“Show me, then,” he breathed, “what you are truly capable of.”