Arie left the Watcher’s chamber without bowing.

  The door shut behind him with a dull echo that followed him down the spiral stairs.

  Five.

  Five against an army that shattered kingdoms with fire.

  His hands were steady, but his thoughts were not.

  When he reached the courtyard, he did not slow.

  “One hundred men,” he ordered sharply. “Full armor. War horses. We ride for Leo within the hour.”

  The captains moved instantly. Steel rang. Hooves struck stone. The Tower responded like a living organism.

  Raphael stepped forward first, silent as ever, twin blades resting across his back. Joseph followed, adjusting his gloves, eyes already distant — calculating terrain, distance, casualties.

  Matt arrived next.

  Tavari came last.

  Arie looked at them and felt something he refused to name.

  Then the air changed.

  Not wind.

  Pressure.

  It sank into bone.

  One by one, the soldiers dropped to their knees.

  Arie closed his eyes briefly before turning.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  Nuru.

  He did not walk loudly. He did not need to. The courtyard belonged to him without effort.

  “Bring the students forward.”

  Tavari, Matt, Raphael, and Joseph stepped ahead and knelt.

  Arie followed, jaw tight.

  “You will go to Leo,” Nuru said.

  Arie lifted his head. “Watcher, I requested reinforcements. The White Gods carry explosives. Their weapons—”

  “—adapt,” Nuru interrupted quietly.

  The word did not rise in volume. It did not need to.

  “With no army,” Nuru continued. “Only you. And your master.”

  Silence spread through the kneeling soldiers like frost.

  Arie felt anger spark — not at the mission.

  At the risk.

  At Tavari.

  At Matt.

  At the fact that Nuru was testing something again.

  “The Tower does not answer fear with numbers,” Nuru said. “It answers with precision.”

  Arie held his gaze.

  For a second too long.

  Then a violent gust tore across the yard.

  When the dust settled, the hundred soldiers were gone.

  The spears. The captains. The war horses.

  Only four horses remained.

  Arie understood the message.

  If they failed, it would not be because they lacked numbers.

  It would be because they lacked worth.

  Nuru vanished.

  Arie stood slowly.

  “Mount.”

  No one argued.

  The Devil’s Foot Forest

  By dusk, they entered the Devil’s Foot Forest.

  The trees leaned inward as if listening.

  They stopped at a narrow river to water the horses.

  Matt crouched near the edge, staring at the water. His reflection wavered.

  He felt different.

  Not healed.

  Sharpened.

  “Arie,” he said without turning. “Who are the White Gods?”

  Arie kept watch over the treeline.

  “Men,” he answered. “From beyond the sea. They found power in fire and iron. They believe anything unexplained must be conquered.”

  Joseph spoke quietly. “Gunpowder.”

  “Yes.”

  Raphael added, “And metal resistant to thread magic.”

  Arie nodded.

  “They build weapons that roar louder than dragons. They think magic is superstition.”

  Matt stood slowly. “Then why do they keep attacking?”

  Arie’s eyes shifted to Tavari.

  Tavari had been silent the entire ride.

  Watching.

  Listening.

  “They’ve attacked for centuries,” Arie said. “And every time… Nuru erased them.”

  “Then why risk it again?” Matt pressed.

  Arie’s expression hardened.

  “Because this time,” he said quietly, “they are not attacking Leo.”

  He looked directly at Tavari.

  “They are testing the Tower’s future.”

  The wind moved through the trees.

  Tavari did not react.

  But Raphael noticed something subtle —

  Tavari’s hand had tightened slightly around the reins.

  And for a brief second…

  The threads at his fingertips flickered.