As Nanny Martha approached the village square, her heart braced for a scene of chaos and carnage. Her mind conjured images of bodies strewn across the cobblestones, but reality revealed a different picture. The elite Shadow Guards lay scattered in the dirt, their armor battered yet their groans indicated that life still clung to them.
What truly shocked her, however, wasn't the Princess of Dawnfall, gasping for breath on her hands and knees. It was the unexpected presence of a man she thought she'd never see beyond his mountain sanctuary again.
Raiking.
There he stood, commanding the center of the square, with his formidable entourage by his side. Ezmelral, ever vigilant, gently cradled a sleeping infant. Beside them was a towering woman of immense strength and a seemingly innocuous young girl. The imposing Storm Dragon, who had moments before clashed with the royals, now knelt with profound reverence, honoring his master's arrival.
Though Martha couldn't catch their hushed conversation, she surmised that the Storm Dragon was hastily explaining his breach of conduct. He had strict orders to spare the villagers, and despite the Princess being an outsider, she was a temporary guest under Greenhollow's protection.
"Well, at least that problem's sorted," Martha breathed a sigh of relief as she cautiously moved toward the intimidating assembly.
Raiking's eyes, dark as the void, locked onto her with an intense focus.
"Martha."
But it wasn't Raiking who spoke her name. Ezmelral was the first to acknowledge her, lowering the infant that had upended Martha's world ever so slightly.
"What brings you all the way out here?" Martha inquired, casually wiping her flour-dusted hands on her apron, as though addressing a group of wandering traders.
"We're on our way to the Tower of Ascension," Raiking replied smoothly. "But we thought we'd stop by first."
"Oh? Then come inside. Let's find refuge within the welcoming walls of the main hall."
Raiking gave a curt nod, and the group followed her toward the village's eastern side.
As they walked, their path naturally crossed with the recovering royal entourage. The Princess eyes were wide with an unfiltered, paralyzing fear. Martha didn't need to guess the reason. With the Shadow Guards dismantled and the vivid red handprint marking the Princess's neck, coupled with her labored breathing, the Nanny could easily deduce what had taken place.
She wasn't entirely shocked by the Storm Dragon's violent response; he had once attacked her during their first meeting simply because she was human. If the Princess had dared to show any royal arrogance or hostility, the beast would naturally escalate the situation with deadly force.
"Alas..." Martha sighed, stepping away from the Guild momentarily to offer her hands to the Princess, helping the trembling royal to her feet. "Would you like to join us?"
This was the utmost Martha could do for Dawnfall. She lacked the power and authority to mediate between gods and kings, but she could at least hold the door open for her rulers. What happened once they crossed that threshold was beyond the concern of common folk.
"T-thank you..." The Princess rasped, clutching her bruised throat as she leaned heavily on Sir Lerikmen's arm.
What was even more unsettling for the Princess—though it didn't surprise Martha—was Raiking's reaction to the exchange. He didn't stop. He didn't slow his stride. He didn't even glance at the potential future Queen of the region. His dark silhouette was already moving ahead, heading toward the largest and most prominent building in the village without a single care in the world.
---
[Location - Greenhollow's Main Hall]
The path to the main hall was swift, with an air of anticipation hanging thick in the air. Once inside, each person took their place around the expansive wooden table.
Despite her physical wounds, the Princess maintained a stoic exterior, striving to conceal her pain. Emotionally, however, the scars from her recent ordeal were harder to hide.
Her experience in the square had opened her eyes to the harsh reality her father faced, a reality where war seemed the only viable solution.
In a world where law held no power, what purpose was there beyond chaos and destruction?
She was no stranger to the brutal truth that strength ruled the world. Yet, even among formidable beings, a balance was maintained. Whether True Divinities or Demigods, each entity respected the cosmic equilibrium. Even the Dragon King, infamous for his pride, rarely ventured beyond the Skyward Region to disrupt the surrounding territories.
But the Guild monsters operated outside this balance, brazenly entering any kingdom and imposing their own chaotic rules, disregarding established norms and sovereignty.
The Princess had never encountered such brazen disregard for order. Lacking the strength to challenge them, she could only observe silently, hoping to gather vital information that might benefit her kingdom.
The first peculiar sight was Martha, the village nanny, who cradled an infant brought by the Guild. Her face radiated joy as she admired the child wrapped in a tiny, glowing cloak.
"Who's a cute little baby? You are, aren't you?" Martha cooed.
"Gaga!" the child gurgled, nestled comfortably in Martha's arms.
As the Princess observed the Guild, her eyes lingered on Raiking. His void-black eyes were fixed on the domestic scene, a soft glimmer in them—reminiscent of the affectionate gaze her father once reserved for her.
The child clearly held significance for him. Whose child could it be? His and the silver-haired woman at his side, perhaps?
No, that didn't seem right, she quickly realized.
Ezmelral's glance revealed the true nature of their relationship. She looked upon the child with genuine affection, but it lacked the unmistakable, weary warmth of a mother. Her stance was not that of a nurturing caretaker; instead, it was the poised, lethal posture of an elite bodyguard—one who stayed close to her leader, her piercing silver eyes scanning the room for threats.
Before the Princess had the chance to focus on the towering woman or the small girl seated quietly at the table, the words she had overheard in the bustling square finally surfaced, spoken casually by Martha.
"So, you mentioned you're heading to the Tower of Ascension?"
A chilling tension swept through the room. Even Sir Lerikmen, a veteran Immortal, couldn't hide his reaction; a loud creak echoed through the silent hall as his knuckles whitened, gripping the wooden armrest of his chair with enough force to splinter it.
And who could blame him?
This intel was the most vital discovery ever unearthed about the mysterious Western Guild. The God of Death was closing in on the Kingdom's sacred proving grounds, a place where legends were forged. His presence alone posed a formidable threat, one that could shake the very foundations of Dawnfall's geopolitical order. If this looming showdown wasn't handled with flawless strategy, the consequences would be unimaginable.