The metallic clang of shattering armor plates still vibrated through the underground iron training hall as Grand Marshal Corvin slowly recovered on one knee. At the center of the ring, Karon stood with his broad, sweat-glistening chest heaving in a controlled rhythm, his sharp black horns casting long shadows under the torches.
"A magnificent display of raw, unfiltered dominance, Karon," a smooth, deep baritone voice echoed from the archway.
Karon snapped his head toward the sound, his intense gaze locking onto Prince Raizael. The Sovereign Regent stepped forward onto the iron stage, clad in attractive crimson and gold silk robes that draped elegantly over his tall frame. Watching him from a step behind was Ronin, who was completely back in order after his brief, chaotic flight out of the study window earlier.
Karon’s eyes narrowed slightly, a passing flicker of healthy, deep-seated jealousy tracing across his jaw. For years, he had watched this prince act like an ungrateful, weak brat while he himself bled on the borders. But seeing the absolute, radiating aura of command coming from Raizael right now, Karon stiffened his posture and delivered a respectful, military bow.
"Greetings, Sovereign Regent," Karon said, his voice deep and rough like grinding stone. "The news of the council meeting has already spread through the barracks. Congratulations on your ascension to the regency."
"I am thoroughly impressed with your strength, Karon," Raizael said, stepping right into the ring, a calm, genuine smile playing on his lips. "And because I know what you are truly capable of, I need you to do something monumental for the safety of this kingdom. Follow me to my study. We have an empire to secure."
Minutes later, back inside the quiet sanctuary of the royal study, the map of the outer borders was unfurled once more across the heavy desk.
"Let’s speak plainly," Raizael began, leaning forward as his crimson eyes locked onto Karon. "Ever since I turned your eldest brother Balthazar to dust, the Frontline Vanguard has been a vacant, unmanaged mess. Your mother, Matriarch Lilithia, was technically left in charge of that massive territory, but as you know... she possesses absolutely zero interest in managing logistics or defending walls."
Karon’s face remained entirely neutral, his arms crossed over his massive chest. He didn't blink or flinch at the mention of his brother's execution or his mother's neglect. "I have no attachment to them, Your Highness. Balthazar was a corrupt fool, and my mother has never looked at any of her children as anything more than trash. Speak of the borders. What is the trouble?"
"The vacancy in Balthazar’s sector has left a massive, gaping security hole," Raizael explained, pointing a pale finger at the outer ridges. "The goblin chieftains and mountain ogre tribes have realized the line is broken. They are mobilizing, raiding our core magic crystal trade routes. Therefore, I am placing you in absolute, permanent command of the entire Frontline Vanguard. You will not only continue to expand our territories, but you will also permanently protect and lock down our borders."
Karon let out a heavy, skeptical breath, shaking his head. "A grand title, Prince Raizael. But the logistics are impossible. My elite personal team consists of only a few dozen hardened warriors. We are a scouting and expansion unit. To successfully defend and fortify an entire border against endless tribal hordes, I need a massive, specialized army. I do not have the numbers."
Raizael’s lips curled into a slow, dangerously calculated smirk. "That's exactly right, Karon. And that is why I have already prepared the perfect companions for your legion."
Karon blinked in confusion as Raizael tapped the desk, gesturing to Ronin.
"Following my engagement with Princess Xaria, I didn't just secure political peace," Raizael said smoothly. "I demanded the service of the absolute highest-tier assassin and scout teams of the Dark Elves. Moving forward, those lethal shadow units are going to be led directly by Xaria’s elder brother, Xylar. Furthermore, I have already instructed Grand Marshal Corvin to recruit a fresh, highly talented elite vanguard of young mages from Princess Sylphiri's High Elf lineages. You are not going to be fighting alone, Karon. You are going to be leading the most balanced, hyper-destructive multi-species army this Sovereignty has ever seen."
Karon sat completely frozen, his jaw slightly slack as he stared at the young prince. He could hardly believe what he was hearing. The weak, bitter brat who used to scream at the walls was gone. Standing before him was a true, visionary sovereign who was willingly, brilliantly running the kingdom, uniting rival factions, and building an unstoppable military machine.
A fierce, fanatical smirk slowly spread across Karon’s face, his dark demonic aura flaring with newfound respect. "If you are playing the game on this level, Sovereign Regent... then I can easily give you my life. Consider the borders yours."
.....
By the next sunrise, the calculated bottleneck purge officially began.
Deep inside the narrow, jagged walls of the Volcanic Chasm, a massive caravan of "fake" dark-magic crystal crates rolled slowly between the black stone cliffs, acting as the ultimate bait. Hidden high above the ridges, completely cloaked by the advanced camouflage magic of the High Elf mages, Karon’s legion waited in absolute silence. Moving through the lower crags like invisible ghosts were the elite Dark Elf assassins, their twin daggers coated in lethal venom, led by Xylar.
Suddenly, a series of guttural, repulsive screeches and booming roars echoed through the chasm. Thousands of green-skinned, vicious goblins and towering, twelve-foot-tall mountain ogres armed with spiked clubs erupted from the hidden caves, swarming the valley floor to raid the caravan.
"Strike," Karon’s booming voice commanded from the shadows.
The ambush was instantaneous and utterly catastrophic. The High Elf mages deactivated their cloaks, unleashing a massive, synchronized storm of concentrated fire and lightning spells that rained down from the heavens, instantly vaporizing hundreds of goblins in waves of blinding elemental light.
BOOOOOOM!
Before the dazed mountain ogres could even raise their clubs, the daggers of the Dark Elf assassins sliced clean through their tendons from the shadows. The giant beasts collapsed into the volcanic ash, screaming in agony as the fast-acting venom paralyzed their nervous systems within seconds.
Karon dropped straight out of the sky like a meteor, his massive war hammer pulsing with a violent, dark demonic aura as he slammed into the center of the enemy lines. The kinetic shockwave shattered the stone floor, pulverizing a dozen ogres into flying crimson mist with a single swing. He moved through the horde like an unstoppable god of slaughter, his multi-species vanguard executing the bottleneck strategy with flawless, terrifying precision. The primitive tribes had walked straight into a meat grinder.
Within less than an hour, the entire valley floor was covered in smoldering ash, discarded weapons, and thousands of neutralized monsters.
At the center of the clearing, securely bound in heavy, soul-suppressing iron chains, the massive Ogre Warchief and the sniveling Goblin King were forced to their knees, their bodies trembling violently with primal terror.
The heavy thud of royal boots clicked against the stone. The smoke parted, and Prince Raizael walked calmly into the center of the clearing, his silver-embroidered royal robes flowing in the wind as he stopped right in front of the captured leaders, looking down at them with a lazy, dominant smirk.
"Now then," Raizael murmured, his crimson eyes flashing with an unholy light as the system hovered in his vision. "Let's talk about the new order of this mountain."