The knights stiffened, their hearts pounding as they gazed at the encroaching army—realizing, with growing dread, that similar forces were visible on the southern and western horizons. The capital was completely surrounded.

    "Your walls may be strong, your soldiers brave, but we are countless. Your city will burn, your people will fall, and every stone you hold dear will be reduced to ash."

    Jareth paused, his eyes narrowing.

    "However, mercy is not beyond my grasp. Surrender now—lay down your arms, open your gates, and offer your head, and perhaps what remains of your precious city can be spared."

    "Refuse..."

    "...and there will be no vengeance to seek, no legacy to preserve. Only ruin."

    The communication cut off with a sharp pulse.

    The knights on the wall exchanged glances.

    "Sound the horns!"

    A deep blare echoed from the east, swiftly answered by the horns from the north, west, and south. The call to arms rippled through the capital, jolting the city from its dawn stillness into the chaos of impending war.

    A knight fumbled with a small, polished magic orb, its surface flickering to life with a faint blue glow. Moments later, the stern face of Knight Captain Seraphine Va appeared within the orb’s shimmering light as she walked through the castle halls.

    "Report. What do their forces look like on the east side?"

    The knight holding the orb straightened, glancing beyond the walls before responding.

    "Captain, the eastern front is heavily fortified. Rough estimates put them at over 8,000 strong. Their vanguard consists mostly of heavy infantry—shields, spears, heavily armored. Behind them, rows of archers, at least 1,500. We’ve counted around 300 mages, some with offensive sigils glowing already. They’ve deployed siege weapons—ten trebuchets, battering rams, and siege towers being pushed into position."

    Seraphine’s jaw tightened.

    "West side, report."

    Another knight lifted his own orb, his face pale.

    "The western front is similar, Captain. Approximately 6,000 infantry, lighter units mixed with cavalry—they’re preparing for a fast breach. Around 1,000 archers, 200 mages, and several smaller siege engines—ballistae and catapults. They’re moving quickly, likely trying to exploit weaker points in the wall."

    Seraphine’s expression hardened. "North side?"

    The northern knight’s voice came through.

    "Captain, the north has the heaviest siege concentration. They’ve brought massive siege towers—at least fifteen, with reinforced battering rams. Around 7,000 troops, heavy infantry leading, supported by archers and around 500 mages. They’ve also got war beasts—large creatures, possibly enchanted."

    Seraphine’s gaze darkened. "South side?"

    The final orb flickered as the southern knight gave his report, sweat beading on his brow.

    "The southern front... they’re holding about 5,000 troops, mostly light infantry, archers, and cavalry. Their formation is scattered, but it looks like they’re planning for fast strikes or possibly a flanking maneuver if we shift our focus elsewhere. Only a few siege weapons, but several mages with ritual circles—we suspect long-range magical bombardments."

    Seraphine was silent for a heartbeat, absorbing the reports. The orb in her hand pulsed faintly, casting shadows across her stern face. Then she spoke, her voice like steel.

    "Hold your positions. Reinforce any weak points immediately. We will not fall today."

    It was pure... primal and almost sinister.

    That realization made her smile.

    "Right away, Sire."

    She raised her staff.

    Arcane energy gathered swiftly, swirling around her like strands of green light. Symbols flared in the air, spinning faster. The temperature in the room dipped slightly, the air crackling with magical pressure.

    A large sigil formed above the strategy table—an array of interlocking runes pulsing with light. The spell stabilized, humming softly like a heartbeat.

    "It’s ready, Your Majesty," Sylvana said, stepping back with a slight bow.

    Arkanos stepped forward and spoke—his voice amplified by the magic, sweeping through the halls of the castle, across the streets of the capital, and even beyond the towering city walls to the ears of both his soldiers and the encroaching enemy.

    "To the fools who surround my city, I must commend you. It’s not every day one gets to witness such a bold display of stupidity."

    His words echoed across the city, reaching trembling civilians and hardened soldiers alike.

    "Hear me now."

    "You believe your numbers grant you victory? You believe my walls will fall to your siege? You believe I will kneel?"

    A pause. His smirk grew wider.

    "Oh, how you insult me."

    "Perhaps you all have forgotten who I am. Let me reintroduce myself. I am Arkanos Bloodbane, second son of Veltharion Bloodbane."

    Yes, all his memories had clicked into place.

    "Scourge of the Bloodbane Empire, for I shattered the chains of a dynasty that sought to control me, carving my own path from the ashes of their ambition."

    "Ruin of the Verdant Lands, for I set fire to the forests that dared stand against my path, leaving nothing but echoes of defiance buried beneath ash and stone."

    "Scorn of the High Council, because I defied their hollow decrees and broke the fragile balance they clung to, getting rid of them as I exposed their hypocrisy with every breath I took."

    "Fallen Heir of Nature, once chosen by the spirits themselves—until I cast them aside for power greater than their whispers could ever grant."

    "Betrayer of the Sacred Pact, for I shattered the ancient vows when they no longer served me, rewriting destiny with my own hand."

    "Some called me a fool, others a tyrant. All I know is..."

    "I was born an emperor and will die an emperor. I do not kneel. I do not beg. And I most certainly will not fall."

    Across the enemy camps, soldiers stiffened, gripping their weapons tighter as his voice rolled over them like an invisible wave of dread.

    "You’ve made a mistake coming here. And soon, you’ll understand the true meaning of regret."

    Silence followed—brief but heavy.

    "Now... let’s begin."