[Kingdom of Thalryn — House Veyrhold — Two Weeks Later]
Cold rain poured endlessly across the northern kingdom of Thalryn, unlike Zahryssar's burning deserts—Thalryn stood beneath cold skies and endless snowstorms, and within the vast halls of House Veyrhold, panic had just begun.
Heavy footsteps echoed violently through marble corridors; servants moved aside immediately because rushing toward the ducal office was the head butler himself.
Breathing unevenly, hands trembling, and clutched tightly within his hands was a black imperial letter.
Then—
SLAMMMMM!!!
The office doors burst open violently.
"Your Grace—!"
Inside the chamber, Duke Aren Veyrhold immediately looked up from the documents across his desk. Sharp eyes narrowing instantly.
"What happened?"
The butler struggled to breathe properly as he swallowed hard. "We…we received an imperial letter from Zahryssar."
Silence.
