The wind shifted before the killing began.
Adam felt it first.
A subtle change—temperature, direction, pressure. The kind of detail most men ignored.
The kind that got them killed.
"Stop."
The command was quiet.
But absolute.
Thirteen riders came to a halt as one. No hesitation. No confusion. Even the wagon behind them creaked to stillness.
Silence followed.
Too clean.
Too empty.
Karn exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders as a grin spread across his face.
"…There it is."
Rian tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing toward the treeline. Unlike Karn's hunger for violence, Rian's presence was controlled—sharp, calculating. His hand rested lightly on the hilt of his curved blade.
"They're not hiding well enough," he said.
Boris snorted from the back.
"They're not trying to."
Dren didn't speak—but his massive hand tightened around the shaft of his weapon, the wood groaning slightly under his grip.
Silas… had already disappeared.
No one saw him move.
Adam dismounted.
"Positions."
That single word broke them into motion.
Karn stepped forward—frontline.
Boris shifted right—heavy assault.
Dren moved left—anchor.
Rian stayed slightly behind the front—flex position.
The others spread out, forming a controlled defensive arc around the wagon.
Perfect spacing.
Perfect awareness.
This was no longer a group.
This was a system.
And then—
The forest attacked.
—
Arrows screamed from both sides.
Dren moved first.
A single step forward—his weapon swung in a wide arc, deflecting two incoming arrows mid-air with a thunderous crack. One shattered. The other spun harmlessly into the dirt.
Karn didn't even slow down.
He charged.
Straight into the right flank.
Three attackers rushed him—fast, coordinated, blades flashing in sync.
Karn laughed.
The first strike came low.
He blocked it with raw force, smashing the attacker's weapon aside before driving his knee into the man's chest. Bone cracked.
Second attacker lunged—
Karn twisted, letting the blade scrape his armor, then grabbed the man's wrist and ripped him forward—
Headbutt.
Teeth shattered.
Before the body even dropped, Karn's sword came down—splitting the third attacker from shoulder to chest in one brutal motion.
Blood sprayed across the leaves.
Karn didn't stop.
"COME!"
—
Left side—
Dren held the line.
Four enemies.
All fast.
All trained.
They circled him like wolves.
One moved in.
Dren didn't react.
Not until the last second.
Then—
Impact.
His weapon swung with terrifying weight, crashing into the attacker's side with enough force to lift him off the ground. The body flew—hit a tree—didn't get back up.
Second attacker went for his legs.
Dren stepped forward instead.
The blade glanced off his armor—
His hand shot down, grabbing the man's throat—
Lifted him.
Crushed.
A wet, choking sound escaped before Dren slammed him into the ground hard enough to break it.
The remaining two hesitated.
That was their mistake.
Dren advanced.
Slow.
Unstoppable.
—
Center—
Rian moved like flowing water.
Two enemies came at him from opposite angles—one high, one low.
Rian pivoted.
His blade curved through the air—deflecting the high strike while his foot snapped out, kicking the second attacker's knee sideways.
A sharp crack.
The man dropped.
Rian followed through instantly—blade reversing direction, slicing clean across the throat of the first attacker.
Before the body even fell, he turned—
The crippled man tried to crawl.
Rian ended him without a word.
No wasted motion.
No emotion.
A third attacker rushed him—faster than the others.
Better.
Their blades met—
Once.
Twice.
Three times—
A flurry of controlled, precise exchanges.
The man smiled behind his mask.
"…Finally—"
Rian stepped inside his guard.
The smile vanished.
Too late.
A short thrust.
Straight through the heart.
Rian pulled the blade free as the body dropped, eyes already scanning for the next threat.
—
Right flank—
Boris was laughing.
Not loudly.
But enough.
A massive figure charged him with a warhammer—
Boris met him head-on.
Steel clashed.
The impact echoed like thunder.
The attacker pushed—strong.
Very strong.
Boris grinned wider.
"…Good."
Then he shifted his weight.
Not resisting.
Redirecting.
The hammer slipped off-line—
Boris stepped in—
His shoulder slammed into the man's chest like a battering ram.
Air exploded from the attacker's lungs.
Boris' blade came up—
Under the ribs.
Deep.
Twist.
Pull.
The man collapsed.
Another attacker leapt from behind—
Boris didn't turn.
Didn't need to.
He stepped sideways just enough—the blade missed his neck by inches—
His elbow shot back—
Connected.
The attacker staggered—
Boris turned now.
And ended him.
Brutally.
—
And through it all—
Silas moved unseen.
One by one—
Enemies fell.
No sound.
No warning.
A man raising his bow—
Dead.
Another turning to flank—
Dead.
A commander trying to regroup—
Dead before the order left his mouth.
Silas was not part of the battle.
He was the end of it.
—
Then—
The front opened.
Three figures stepped onto the road.
Different.
Heavier armor.
Controlled movements.
Leaders.
Adam stepped forward.
The battlefield behind him was already tilting.
Victory was inevitable.
The first leader spoke.
"You've grown faster than expected."
Adam said nothing.
The man drew his blade.
"So let's see if you can—"
He never finished.
Adam moved.
Fast.
Faster than anything they had seen so far.
Their blades met—
The sound rang sharp.
The leader's stance broke instantly.
Not from lack of skill—
From shock.
Adam pressed forward—relentless.
Every strike precise.
Every movement calculated.
A cut—
A feint—
A thrust—
The man tried to recover—
Failed.
Adam's blade pierced straight through his chest.
Pulled free in the same motion.
Second leader attacked from the side—
Rian intercepted.
Steel collided in a blur of motion.
The man was skilled—matching Rian strike for strike.
Fast.
Disciplined.
But Rian adapted.
Quickly.
He shifted rhythm—slightly off-beat—
The leader hesitated—
That was enough.
Rian stepped through—
Blade cutting deep across the neck.
Clean.
Efficient.
The third leader turned—
Tried to retreat—
Boris blocked his path.
"…Not happening."
The man lunged.
Boris met him with overwhelming force.
One strike—
Blocked.
Second—
Blocked.
Third—
Boris didn't block.
He broke through.
Their weapons collided—
The leader's guard shattered—
Boris' blade crashed into his shoulder, driving him to his knees—
And then—
Finished it.
—
Silence.
Heavy.
Absolute.
Bodies covered the ground.
The forest itself seemed to recoil.
Only one enemy remained.
Kneeling.
Shaking.
Karn dragged him forward and threw him down before Adam.
"…This one lived."
Adam looked at him.
Calm.
Cold.
"Who sent you?"
The man swallowed hard.
"…The Crown Network…"
Rian's eyes narrowed slightly.
"…Figures."
"They wanted confirmation…" the man continued, voice trembling.
"Of what?"
The man hesitated.
Then—
"…The Dread Sovereign."
Silence fell again.
Karn let out a low whistle.
"…That's new."
Boris chuckled.
"…I like it."
Adam crouched slightly, meeting the man's eyes.
"Do you believe it?"
The answer came instantly.
"Yes."
A pause.
Then Adam stood.
"Good."
He turned away.
"Let him go."
The man froze.
Then ran.
Fast.
Desperate.
Alive.
Karn watched him disappear, grin returning.
"…You're spreading the legend."
Adam mounted his horse.
"No."
Silas' voice drifted from the shadows as he reappeared.
"You're letting it grow."
Adam didn't deny it.
—
They rode again.
Thirteen.
Unbroken.
Untouched.
But now—
Different.
Because this time—
The fight had not just proven survival.
It had proven dominance.
Karn's brutality.
Boris' power.
Dren's unstoppable presence.
Rian's precision.
Silas' silent death.
And above them all—
Adam.
The one who bound it together.
The one who turned chaos into control.
The one the enemy had already named.
Karn rode beside him after a while, smirking.
"…Dread Sovereign."
Adam didn't respond.
But he didn't reject it either.
Ahead—
The south waited.
Unaware.
Unprepared.
And now—
Marked.
—