The Beast King's head was taken by the White Sovereign.
Though no bonds of alliance bound them, she believed even an enemy deserves dignity in death.
His head was buried far away, beneath the soil of what had once been his homeland—now a cursed, empty place. A ghost kingdom.
The Beast Kingdom had been burned to ash.
Only a handful survived: scattered soldiers who fled in shame, and civilians who clung to life amid the ruins. Food was scarce. The land was broken.
The sight chilled the White Sovereign.
If this war turned against her, if fate mirrored itself—would her people suffer the same?
She turned her eyes southward.
Two weeks later she carried herself to the Southern Sect, a land where snow fell more often than sunlight.
A vast, icy estate stretched across the mountains, cold and serene. Few lived here—Mostly knights and martial artists, hardened by discipline and silence.
At its heart ruled a man known as the Winter Sovereign.
She arrived with a small guard of elites. Silent. Resolute.
Southern Sect – Grand Chamber
"The Beast King is dead," the White Sovereign announced.
Silence fell like snow.
The Winter Sovereign paused, pouring warm tea into porcelain cups. His face was unreadable.
"That fool," he muttered. "He underestimated the Empire."
The scent of tea filled the chamber, but it brought no comfort.
"This war... is suicide," the Winter Sovereign continued. "The Empire is far too strong. We cannot stand against it. None of us can."
The White Sovereign said nothing. Deep down, she already knew.
The Empire was ancient. Eternal.
Whether divided or united, no other kingdom could match its might.
And now, the fear: would her people be next?
Would her cities fall to fire, her children starve in the ashes?
She looked up. "Then what do you propose?"
His answer was cold. Unflinching.
"We kill Isla. And his brother—the Flame Emperor."
The White Sovereign blinked. "What…?"
A voice spoke from the shadows.
"And then the Crown Prince. The only successor."
"And after that,its a given that the throne will now go back to where it belongs"
She turned sharply. A figure cloaked in black robes stepped into the light.
An uninvited guest.
A conspirator.
But she recognised him within a glance.One of the mighty empire commanders.
They spoke at length. And from that darkness, a plan was born.
"Once a year," the hooded man said, "Isla returns to Agriche—the estate of his first wife. A barren land. His greatest regret."
The Winter Sovereign nodded. "The land that he burned it himself.The place where he killed his own wife and her noble family. Even if he conquers the world, he will never forgive himself for that."
"And that," the man added, "is where we strike."
The White Sovereign scoffed. "An ambush? Its cowardly. We are Sovereigns, not assassins."
"This is war," the robed man replied. "And millions of lives hang in the balance. Cowardice or not,this is the only way to win."
She was silent.
"How do you intend to kill him?"
"We bring twenty thousand soldiers. Winter Sovereign and I will lead them. At Agriche, we strike without warning."
"And how would you bring that soldier anonymously?."
The man in robe pulled out an artifact."With this".
Veil Resonance,an artifact taken from the Empire royal vault.
The Queen narrowed her eyes. "And the Flame Emperor, Lucas?"
The man turned to her. Slowly raised his cup. Sipped. Then pointed—straight at her.
"That's your job."
The room turned to ice.
Face the Flame Emperor… alone?
It was suicide.
But what choice was left?
The Wizard King had locked himself within his fortress, sealing off his entire kingdom.
Andreas—the King of Seravia—had likely betrayed them and now bowed to the Empire.
No allies. No miracles.
Only this one chance.
"He'll be vulnerable," the robed man added. "Attack him near his family estate. His firepower is too destructive—he won't risk harming those he loves. That hesitation will be your opening."
A heavy silence followed.
Finally, the White Sovereign exhaled.
She would most likely die.
But if the Empire was ever to be stopped, it had to be now.
Arman was far from the capital.
Herald was retired.
For the first time in decades… the Empire was vulnerable.
She nodded once.
"…Then let it be done."
Do or die. There would be no second chance.