In a region far from Goldenveil, the City of Howling Fire was alive with celebration.

The occasion was the marriage between the son of the city’s current lord and the daughter of another lord, the ruler of the City of the Black Dagger.

Following the large influx of migrants in recent months, the population of Howling Fire had swelled to thirty thousand, and its power was now far greater than before.

Together with the City of the Black Dagger, the two cities boasted a combined population of one hundred thousand and could muster an army of twenty thousand men.

In the event of a full mobilization, that number could climb to forty or even fifty thousand.

The engagement had been officially announced, with the wedding set for the end of next winter.

Everyone was celebrating... except for two people.

They were the current Lord of Howling Fire City, Mael HowlingFlame, and his most loyal servant, Theron, whose son had died at the claws of a second-stage beast near Goldenveil.

The two sat in a secluded meeting room tucked away in the far reaches of Mael’s palace, where the echoes of the celebration outside reached them only as a distant murmur.

Theron’s eyes—loyal and steadfast as they had always been—met those of his Lord: cold, icy, filled with a subtle murderous intent.

"My lord... I am now ready to advance to the fourth stage." Theron’s voice rang through the room, firm and dignified.

For several years, he had been gathering resources for this very advancement.

But suddenly, his lord had not only placed him under house arrest, but had also confiscated every resource he had so painstakingly accumulated.

"But you must not! It is not time to advance, and what if..."

"There is no enemy you cannot handle on your own, My Lord! Since when has my loyalty faltered? Since when has my father’s loyalty faltered?" Theron interrupted, his voice cutting through the air.

The old man shuddered, clenching his teeth so tightly that the grinding could be heard. The veins along his forehead throbbed visibly beneath the wrinkled skin.

Theron had never spoken to him like that before. Never!

And that alone confirmed his suspicions.

Theron was likely planning to take advantage of his advanced age and kill him the moment he reached the fourth stage.

Mael, lost in his delusions and the dementia of old age, was ready to lunge at Theron’s throat right then and there, but his old age and his old unhealed injuries had already drained him of much of his strength.

To do so, he would need to call upon his new ally.

"You’re afraid." Theron’s voice was low, yet they were enough to make Mael’s heart sink..

Theron could feel the old man’s gaze fixed on his own, and he knew all too well what was churning behind those clouded eyes.

For a brief moment, Theron’s face was overtaken by bitter disappointment.

His grandfather had died in the service of this Lord. His father, likewise. And he had always believed the same fate awaited him.

He had lived a lifetime of absolute loyalty... and this was his reward.

To be imprisoned.

To have the resources he had amassed with so much blood and sweat confiscated.

And, in the end, to still be marked for death by the very one he had served his entire life.

"Me? Afraid? I’ve never—" Mael didn’t have time to finish. Theron had already turned his back on him.

Ripping the insignia of Howling Fire City’s military forces from his chest, Theron tossed it aside and took a firm step toward the exit.

"Choose a worthy captain for the guard... these men don’t deserve to be commanded by some corrupt pig." With his son buried and the loyalty he’d carried his entire life finally shattered, Theron saw no reason to remain in that city.

What he would do with his life from that moment on was a mystery even he couldn’t fathom.

"Hmm... maybe it’s time to pay a visit to that Goldenveil?" Theron lifted his face and smiled up at the heavens, his eyes brimming with a certain pain.

He remembered that interesting city very well and still needed to have one more drink with his Lord.

As he left Mael’s mansion, Theron’s eyes grew cold.

He could feel the guards approaching fast, weapons drawn. The clanging of armor and the heavy thud of boots against stone grew louder with every breath.

Third-stage warriors converged from every direction, closing in around him.

Mael wasn’t going to let him leave so easily, it seemed.

***

Meanwhile, in Goldenveil.

Shortly after greeting Ethan, the paladins quickly dispersed and took up their usual positions.

Some explored the Order’s main building, located right next to the cathedral, while others stood guard around the Tree of Life.

With them present, the city guard no longer needed to worry about protecting the Tree—a task that now fell exclusively to the paladins of the Order of the Silver Wings.

[Name: Order of the Silver Wings

Description: A great and powerful order of paladins from the past, responsible for defending the churches that safeguarded the faith of the three goddesses. It was revived by the human Ethan Goldenveil.

Current leader: Aurora

Affiliated nation: Goldenveil

Church served: Church of Goldenveil

Number of members: 200

Fortresses under control: 1

Treasury: 10,000 gold coins]

Ethan glanced briefly at the status screen after handing over ten thousand gold coins as an initial budget—the same amount he had offered Arwen.

Given the current size of the order and the church, it would take them quite some time to spend that much gold... at least until they began to grow uncontrollably.

In the end, Ethan had another pleasant surprise when he discovered the paladins weren’t just warriors.

They were also skilled blacksmiths, array specialists, masters of potion-making, and, of course, magical swordswomen. After all, every elven woman was born with a mana heart, instead of the aura more common to humans.

It didn’t take long for everyone to get organized and go about their own business, finally giving Ethan the freedom to walk alone alongside Arwen.