The guard hurried to carry out Prince Shikuza's orders, making his way first to the expansive training grounds.
The air there was thick with the sound of clashing steel and the rhythmic shouts of soldiers mid-drill.
He scanned the crowd, his eyes searching through the sea of sweat and iron for Sumin.
Nearby, Keifer paused, wiping the sweat from his brow as he leaned on his practice sword. He nudged Sumin, nodding toward the newcomer.
"Look over there," Keifer said, his voice low but sharp.
"That's a castle guard. From the look on his face, he's searching for someone—and it looks like he's in a hurry."
Sumin stood tall, his presence naturally commanding attention as he signaled the guard to approach.
The guard didn't waste a second, weaving through the rows of training soldiers until he reached them, his face tight with the weight of his message.
"I'm glad to see you here as well, Commander Keifer," the guard said, offering a quick, respectful nod to both men.
"Prince Shikuza has issued an immediate summons. He requires both of you at the castle right away. Please, follow me."
The atmosphere in the training grounds shifted instantly. The casual clashing of practice swords seemed to quiet down as the soldiers watched their leaders.
Keifer and Sumin exchanged a brief, knowing look—they knew the Prince wouldn't call for both of them unless the situation was dire.
Without a word, they grabbed their gear and began the trek toward the high stone walls of the royal fortress.
The three of them moved quickly toward the castle, their footsteps echoing against the stone floor. As they entered the hall, Shikuza turned around abruptly, his face etched with relief and urgency.
"I am glad you both arrived so quickly," Shikuza said, his voice low and serious. He looked from Keifer to Sumin, his gaze unwavering. "We don't have a moment to lose. We must set out for the Drakos Kingdom immediately."
Shikuza then signaled to the guard who had brought them. "Go at once. Prepare our horses and gather the necessary supplies for a long journey. We are leaving now." Without a word, the guard bowed and hurried off to the stables.
Sumin stepped forward, his expression filled with concern. "Is it King Inis? Has his health taken a turn for the worse?"
Shikuza shook his head slowly. "His condition remains the same, but that isn't the reason for this sudden journey. There is something else—something far more dangerous—that requires our presence. I will explain everything on the way, but for now, we must move."
Sumin and Keifer didn't ask any more questions. The weight of the situation was clear enough in Shikuza's eyes, and they knew that in moments like these, actions mattered more than words.
"Everything is ready, Your Highness," the guard announced as he returned, slightly out of breath from the preparations.
Prince Shikuza slowly rolled the parchment back up, securing the dire warning before tucking it safely into his pocket. He turned his gaze toward the weary soldier from the Drakos Kingdom, his expression setting into a mask of grim determination.
"It is time," Shikuza said firmly. "We must go now."
With a final look at the castle walls, the group turned toward the stables. The air outside felt colder than before, as if the shadows of the forest were already reaching out to meet them.
The journey to the Drakos Kingdom began under a sky that felt heavier than usual. Shikuza, Keifer, and Sumin rode in a tight formation, their horses' hooves striking the earth with a rhythmic, urgent thrum. As they left the familiar light of the castle behind, the landscape began to shift into something unrecognizable and cold.
As they rode, Keifer pulled his horse closer to Shikuza's. "Prince," he began, his voice barely a whisper against the wind, "if these dimensions are truly opening, we aren't just fighting soldiers anymore. We are fighting memories and shadows."
Shikuza didn't look back, his eyes fixed on the horizon. "Shadows can still draw blood if they find a way to take shape, Keifer. The King of Ghosts didn't conquer half the ancient world with just whispers."
Sumin, usually the most stoic of the group, tightened his grip on his reins. "What worries me isn't the ghosts we can see. It's the King of Ghosts himself. If the Drakos Kingdom falls, the seal in our own land will be the next to crack. We are riding toward a dam that is already leaking."
The three riders pulled their reins as they reached the very edge of the Drakos Kingdom. The grand stone archway that marked the border stood tall, but the atmosphere surrounding it had turned sickly and heavy.
"The air... it has changed," Sumin remarked, his voice tight. He pulled his cloak tighter against a sudden, unnatural chill. "It feels thick, like breathing in wet wool."
Shikuza nodded slowly, his eyes scanning the horizon. "You're right. The freshness of the mountain breeze and the vibrant life that used to define these peaks... it's all gone. It feels as if the land itself is mourning."
Sumin's gaze suddenly locked onto a river cascading down from the nearby mountains. He pulled his horse to a sharp halt, his face pale with confusion.
"Look at the water," Sumin said, his voice trembling slightly. "Why is the river running red? It looks like... blood."
The soldier nudged his horse forward, stopping at the water's edge. "None of us know the answer, captain," he replied grimly. "The water turned this color the exact moment the dimension began to tear open. It hasn't cleared since."
He looked down at the ground beneath his horse's hooves and gestured toward the jagged rocks scattered across the path. "And it's not just the water. Look at the earth itself. These stones... they are turning black, as if they've been scorched by an invisible fire."
Everyone followed his gaze. The small boulders and pebbles that lined the mountain pass were no longer the natural grey of the highlands. They were now a deep, obsidian black—cold to the touch and radiating a faint, unsettling energy that seemed to seep into the very air.
Shikuza's gaze remained frozen, locked onto the crimson river as it sliced through the blackened earth. The sound of the water, once a peaceful mountain melody, now felt like a low, rhythmic thrum—like a heartbeat echoing from deep within the ground.
"How is this possible?" Shikuza whispered, his voice barely audible over the wind.
He didn't wait for an answer. Stepping off his horse, he walked toward the bank where the red water lapped against the charred stones. He knelt, his hand hovering just inches above the surface. He could feel a strange, cold heat radiating from the liquid. It wasn't just colored water; it felt thick, heavy with the essence of something that didn't belong to the world of the living.