The intruder wore full plate in bright silver, polished to a mirror shine.

  The design was ornate and almost holy, like starlight had been forged into metal.

  He carried his helmet under one arm, revealing hair the color of spun gold.

  His eyes were a deep ocean blue, his features sharp and sculpted, handsome in a clean, unyielding way.

  A cloak flowed behind him, dark royal blue silk trimmed in purple and white fur, stitched through with gold thread.

  Put together, he looked like the kind of hero who stepped out of a ballad and made people believe in happy endings.

  Except he had just barged into the audience hall and started shouting, which did not exactly match the legend.

  This young man, human, and bold enough to call the Drac Emperor “Father,” glanced at Enid and the others sitting in the hall, clearly thinking, why are they sitting here.

  Then he snapped his focus back to the throne and spoke fast, voice ringing.

  “The Minister of War and the High General told me your plan,” he said. “It’s insane. I’m asking you to cancel it, and let me take the army to the front right now.”

  The emperor was obviously irritated by the interruption and barked back.

  “Enough. Don’t run your mouth in front of my guests. I’m the emperor of Drac, once I decide, no one changes it.”

  “Father!”

  “Guards,” the emperor thundered. “Get this brat out of my hall. And take that armor off him. The battlefield isn’t some playground where a rookie wins with passion and good intentions.”

  Several palace guards and attendants moved in to drag the prince away.

  He shoved them off and shouted again.

  “This plan can’t happen. Drac can’t afford to lose you.”

  Now the emperor truly looked ready to explode.

  He rose, towering above the room, and pointed down at the prince like a blade.

  “You little wretch. You got older, you got taller, and your nerve got fat too. You’re daring to talk back to me now. I don’t feel like disciplining you myself, so get out before I really lose my temper.”

  The pressure coming off the emperor finally won.

  The prince shook off the hands around him one last time, snapped, “I can walk on my own,” and stormed out.

  As he reached the doors, the emperor shouted after him.

  “And don’t forget to take that armor off. And the cloak too, that cloak is mine. Don’t you dare ruin it.”

  The prince stumbled for half a step, caught himself, and kept going, fuming.

  Once he was gone, the emperor dropped back into his throne and muttered as he sat.

  “That boy. I haven’t smacked him around in a few years, and look what it did. And those loudmouths in the War Office, they never learn.”

  He looked back at Enid, like he finally remembered there were witnesses.

  “Sorry you had to see that. The loud one was my only son, the crown prince of Drac, Alexis Drac.”

  Enid noticed something right away.

  Alexis had none of the dragonkin traits the emperor had, no horns, no tail, nothing.

  “He didn’t look dragonkin,” Enid said. “Is he…”

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  The emperor answered without a hint of embarrassment.

  “Right. Lex is fully human. No dragon blood at all. He’s my adopted son, not my own.”

  Ilena blinked, honestly thrown.

  “A human prince adopted by a dragonkin emperor. That’s a new one.”

  The emperor laughed, loud and bright.

  “Ha. It is. The story’s even stranger. Years ago I found Lex as a baby, abandoned in the chapel inside the palace. I figured that kind of coincidence meant something, so I took him in.”

  Ilena’s face fell a little.

  “That’s it. I thought it would be… bigger.”

  The emperor caught her disappointment and waved it off.

  “Kid, life doesn’t need extra drama. Living is the epic. If you chase ‘special’ so hard you ignore the ordinary, you’ll stop noticing what’s worth cherishing.”

  Then he grinned again.

  “Besides, an emperor adopting a child with no background is already a story. You should’ve heard the cabinet’s old fossils whining about it, again and again. That part was hilarious.”

  Enid’s ears were starting to ring.

  The man looked stern, but he laughed like it was his favorite weapon.

  When he finally got it out of his system, he rapped his knuckles on the arm of the throne, a sharp sound that pulled everyone’s attention back.

  His expression settled, and his voice turned official.

  He began with a quick breakdown of the situation and the forces on both sides.

  The Demon King’s army was built around seven main legions, each roughly ten thousand strong.

  Two had been wiped out, two were tied down by the Sagraf Empire, and another was being held by Drac’s Third Legion in the west.

  That left two demon legions still pushing deeper into Drac territory.

  One’s route was unclear, but what remained of Drac’s Second Legion had linked up with nearby noble forces and was preparing to meet it head-on.

  The other legion was the immediate nightmare.

  It was closing on the capital, and by the emperor’s estimate it would be on the city’s doorstep in less than a week.

  Compared to that, Drac’s side looked painfully thin.

  A legion under the emperor’s command was usually five thousand, and most were freshly drafted conscripts. Only about a fifth were true professionals.

  Before the war, the empire had ten full legions.

  After the demon offensive escalated, only four remained, and most of those were shattered remnants.

  Noble armies varied by rank, anywhere from twenty thousand down to a thousand.

  They usually handled threats outside the demon main legions, or supported imperial troops against the bigger pushes.

  Then the emperor laid out his plan.

  He would personally lead the First Legion, the Royal Heavy Cavalry, and the elite Wyvern Riders to meet the demon main force head-on.

  At the same time, survivors from other units, mercenaries, and volunteer death squads would be formed into a mixed strike corps, split into small teams.

  Those teams would skirt the primary battlefield and cut straight toward demon territory.

  They would carve a path toward where the Demon King was believed to be, and pull in nearby demon forces, keeping the big enemy formations busy.

  While the raids dragged the demons into chaos, Enid and her group would act as the Demon King Slaying Party, going straight for the head.

  If they succeeded, it would cripple the demon army, maybe even end the war in one stroke.

  In other words, the emperor wanted Enid’s team to be the knife.

  And thousands, maybe tens of thousands of soldiers would pay in blood to open the road for that final strike.

  The emperor himself was ready to die on the front line.

  He planned to face a full demon legion directly, buying the assassination team the time they needed.

  Of course, he was not going to send Enid in with only Antonio and Ilena.

  He would also dispatch several decoy assassination teams to infiltrate at the same time, to draw attention and cover the real strike.

  Even so, Enid’s party had gaps.

  Antonio was powerful, but close-quarters fighting was not his strength.

  Ilena, as a healer and cleric, had holy magic that was especially effective against demons, and her support was excellent, but she was not built for frontline brawls either.

  As for Enid, the emperor did not know exactly how strong she truly was.

  He only knew she hit like thunder, and she could hold her own up close, but something about her body left her with terrible endurance.

  Even the emperor, with eyes and ears everywhere, did not know about Enid’s twisted curse.

  He only knew that after casting, she needed a long time to recover.

  So the conclusion was simple.

  Enid’s team needed a real vanguard, someone who could stand in front and buy them the seconds and openings they needed.

  The emperor said he had already found the perfect person.

  His adopted son and heir, Prince Alexis.

  And Alexis was not just the crown prince of Drac.

  He also carried a title known across the empire.

  By the prophecy of the Radiant Church, Alexis was the chosen Hero, the one desperate people had been praying for.