In the towering halls of the Xavarian Imperial Palace, the air was thick with tension. The towering marble columns, adorned with banners of the empire, cast long shadows as the afternoon sun filtered through the high windows. The silence in the chamber was deafening, broken only by the quiet, measured breaths of those gathered. No one dared to speak out of turn. Not in the presence of Emperor Malachar the Unrelenting.
Seated on his golden throne at the far end of the hall, Malachar exuded an aura of raw power and cruelty. His eyes, cold and calculating, scanned the room as he drummed his fingers against the armrest of his throne. His armor, made of gleaming black steel trimmed with gold, caught the dim light, casting sharp reflections that made the courtiers and advisors gathered around him even more uneasy.
Emperor Malachar was known throughout the empire and beyond as a man who did not forgive failure. His empire had been built through conquest and bloodshed, and his rule was absolute. Every man, woman, and child under his dominion feared his name, and even his closest generals never crossed him. To challenge Malachar the Unrelenting was to sign one's death warrant.
And yet, word of a failure had reached his ears.
Before him knelt the commander of the Xavarian army that had been sent to crush the insignificant settlement of Eagle's Reach. His armor was dirtied and worn from battle, and his head was bowed so low that his forehead nearly touched the cold stone floor. His entire body trembled under the weight of the Emperor's gaze.
"I sent you to eliminate a single settlement," Malachar began, his voice low and cold. "Not a kingdom. Not a fortress. A settlement. And yet, here you kneel before me, empty-handed."
The commander dared not lift his head. "Your Majesty… we were unprepared for what we faced."
The Emperor's fingers stilled on the armrest, his piercing gaze narrowing. "Unprepared? For what? Did they have dragons? Demons? Armies of the dead?"
The commander swallowed hard, his voice shaking. "No, Your Majesty. They… they had something else. A hero."
At the mention of a hero, the court stirred. Several of the advisors exchanged uneasy glances, and even the guards standing by the Emperor's throne tensed at the word. Heroes were rare, even in the vast expanse of the Xavarian Empire. Heroes were living legends, wielding powers far beyond that of ordinary men. And the Xavarian Empire only had five.
Emperor Malachar's lips thinned into a dangerous line. "A hero, you say? And who commands this hero?"
The commander took a shaky breath. "A man named Kayl leads the settlement. But it was the hero who turned the tide. His name is Duran the Unyielding. He appeared before the final stages of the battle and—he… single-handedly destroyed our forces, Your Majesty."
Malachar's eyes flickered with an emotion that none in the court dared name. He had not expected this. A hero unit in the hands of a backwater settlement? It made no sense. Hero units were either born from legends or carefully cultivated within the empire, assigned only to the greatest and most loyal warriors. For a hero to emerge in such an insignificant place was alarming.
"And how did this Duran come to be?" Malachar asked, his voice deadly calm. "Where was he when the initial reports were sent? Why did you not account for him?"
The commander's voice trembled. "Your Majesty… Duran was not always a hero. From what our scouts gathered, he and his men were sent on a mission by Kayl, deep into the ruins in the nearby forest. When Duran returned, he had transformed. He became something else. The man who entered the ruins was no more—what emerged was a Sword Saint."
Malachar's eyes darkened further. A Sword Saint—a legendary title bestowed upon only a few warriors in history. The weight of the situation deepened. This was no ordinary opponent. Whoever this Kayl was, he now had a hero of incredible power at his disposal. The fact that Duran had transformed while on a mission meant that Kayl had somehow triggered it, but Malachar still didn't know how. What magic or power lay behind this?
The Emperor rose slowly from his throne, his armored boots echoing across the marble floor as he stepped down from the dais. The courtiers, advisors, and guards all stiffened as he approached the kneeling commander. Malachar's expression remained cold, but there was a fire in his eyes—one that spoke of ruthlessness and calculated rage.
"A Sword Saint, you say," Malachar muttered. "And yet, this Kayl commands him?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. Kayl commands the settlement, but Duran is their true weapon," the commander replied, his head still bowed.
The Emperor came to a stop in front of the commander, his presence looming like a shadow. "You allowed a single hero to decimate one of my armies," he said, his voice low but seething with restrained fury. "And in doing so, you have allowed an insignificant settlement to become a threat."
The commander flinched, knowing his life hung by a thread.
But instead of striking, Malachar turned sharply and strode back toward his throne. "It seems we have underestimated Eagle's Reach," the Emperor said to his advisors. "This Kayl has become a problem, and if he is commanding a hero, that makes him dangerous."
He paused, his eyes narrowing with thought. "But heroes are not invincible. They bleed, just like any other man."
One of his closest advisors, General Valrik, stepped forward. "Your Majesty, shall we send another force? Perhaps a larger army?"
Malachar shook his head. "No. Not just any army will do. They've tasted victory against our troops. Sending more soldiers without a clear advantage would only embolden them."
Valrik hesitated. "Then what would you suggest, Your Majesty?"
The Emperor's gaze flickered with dark intent. "We will send one of our own heroes."
The court fell silent once more. The Xavarian Empire possessed only five heroes, each one a living legend in their own right. To dispatch one to deal with a single settlement was no small decision.
"Who will you send, Your Majesty?" Valrik asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
A thin smile crossed Malachar's face, one that sent a chill through the room. "Send Xeron the Stormbreaker. He will remind them what it means to challenge the Xavarian Empire."
Xeron the Stormbreaker. The name alone was enough to strike fear into the hearts of those who knew him. A hero of immense power, Xeron was known for his control over lightning and storms, his mere presence on the battlefield capable of turning the tide in the empire's favor. Wherever he went, devastation followed.
The Emperor returned to his throne, his expression cold and unyielding. "Prepare the army. Let Eagle's Reach know that they have made an enemy of the Xavarian Empire. We will crush them, hero or not."