The Order of Saint Merin ended with him.

Not because it fell in a final stand—there was nothing left worth defending. The knights had been broken long before the last blade was raised, and he was the worst among them. Sir Henry Hildebraud of Mostenstein, the final knight, standing at the edge of his own grave.

Magic ruled the world, and Henry possessed none of it. Against sorcerers who could reshape battlefields with a gesture, steel and training were meaningless. A sword did not argue with fire. A shield did not stop lightning. He was going to die, and he knew it.

Then something absurd happened.

A blow to the head—pure chance, pure stupidity—triggered a system. Not strength. Not speed. Not even magic. A single trait was amplified beyond reason: intimidation. He did not become more powerful. He simply became terrifying.

Worse still, he had no control over it.

Every sentence he spoke sounded like a threat of massacre. Casual conversation carried the weight of a war crime. Diplomacy became impossible. Silence was suspicious. Speaking was catastrophic.

With no other options, Henry did the only thing he could to survive: he allowed the world to believe he was a monster far stronger than he truly was.

Somewhere along this unfolding disaster, fate decided to complicate things further—or perhaps offer salvation—by pushing him toward a woman said to know how the Order could be restored and how he might rise above the farce he was living.

The problem?

Everyone agreed on one thing about her.

She was completely unhinged.

Chapter 13 - /////// already had that in chapter 14