The morning sun bathed Lysvein's capital in a golden glow, yet the city still bore fresh scars from the battle against the Shadow Behemoth. Entire districts lay in ruins, smoke curled from shattered buildings, and soldiers worked tirelessly to restore order.
But despite the devastation, hope thrived.
Because the impossible had happened.
Kairos had won.
Word spread like wildfire—Lysvein had survived an ancient nightmare. And now, people no longer saw their kingdom as a fragile, doomed nation.
They saw it as a land protected by a legend.
In the royal palace, King Orpheus sat upon his throne, his boyish face composed, yet his fingers tapped nervously against the gilded armrest. Ministers and knights lined the grand hall, murmuring amongst themselves.
At the center of the chamber, Kairos leaned lazily against a column, arms crossed, still wearing his battle-worn cloak.
He barely paid attention to the tense silence that filled the room.
His focus was on the woman standing before them all.
Seraphina Drakos.
The Draconian Empire's envoy.
She stood tall, clad in black-and-red dragon-scale armor, a massive greatsword strapped to her back. Her golden eyes, fierce and unreadable, swept across the room, but they lingered on Kairos for just a second—before narrowing.
She hated this.
Hated being here.
And yet, she had returned.
To deliver an ultimatum.
QUEST UPDATE: IMPERIAL CONFLICT
The Draconian Empire has issued a final demand.
Lysvein must submit… or be crushed beneath their might.
"Lysvein," Seraphina began, her voice strong and unwavering, "has defied the natural order for long enough."
Her words sent a chill through the court.
"Your survival against the Shadow Behemoth was impressive," she continued, "but it changes nothing. The Emperor has decreed: Lysvein must kneel. This is your final warning."
The court exploded into murmurs, nobles whispering their fears.
Kairos?
He yawned.
Loudly.
Seraphina's eye twitched.
"Bored already?" she snapped, folding her arms.
Kairos grinned. "It's just that I've heard this speech before. Let me guess—'Submit, or die horribly.' Right?"
Her jaw clenched.
He wasn't wrong.
King Orpheus finally spoke, his voice firm despite his youth. "And if we refuse?"
Seraphina's gaze hardened. "Then we burn this kingdom to the ground."
A heavy silence fell.
Kairos stretched. "You guys keep threatening that. And yet, somehow, we're still here."
She didn't react, but he saw it—the flicker of frustration behind her eyes.
He stepped forward, hands in his pockets. "Let's be real, Seraphina. You've fought me twice. You know exactly how that would go."
The knights and nobles held their breath as the air between them crackled with tension.
And for the first time—Seraphina hesitated.
Only for a fraction of a second.
But Kairos saw it.
SERAPHINA'S INTERNAL STATUS
LOYALTY TO THE DRACONIAN EMPIRE: 87% → 79%
CONFLICT: RISING.
She exhaled sharply. "…The Emperor's patience is not infinite. If you refuse, war is inevitable."
Kairos smirked. "Then bring it."
Seraphina's eyes flared—but instead of responding, she turned on her heel.
"The Empire will send its answer soon," she said. "Prepare yourselves."
And with that, she left the hall, her crimson cape flowing behind her.
The moment the doors slammed shut, Orpheus let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
A noble stammered, "D-Do we have any hope of winning against the Draconians…?"
Kairos grinned.
"Hope?" He turned, stepping toward the war table. "Oh, we're past that."
He planted his hand on the map, his golden eyes burning with something dangerous.
"Now? We plan how to win."