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Near Northwind Fortress, in the secluded Zeleya Hills.

Over twenty members of the Lionheart Knights concealed themselves, quietly waiting.

They wore heavy armor, with breastplates shaped like roaring lion heads, appearing imposing. Their red cloaks bore the Bosk family’s emblem of crossed swords and a lion.

One knight, gazing uneasily at the flying wyverns overhead, asked:

“Captain, we haven’t seen the signal Duke Leo mentioned. Could they have failed already?”

“Keep waiting, Jaden. We have time.”

The voice was steady and calm.

The speaker, unlike the others, had a ring of black mane encircling his neck and a vividly detailed lion’s head on his chest—he was Fried Orlb, the "Black Lion Knight," one of the seven captains of the Lionheart Knights.

But now, only six captains remained. Fried's childhood companion and brother-in-arms, the "White Lion Knight" Tarik, had perished in the tragedy. This loss weighed heavily on Fried, driving him to volunteer for this mission against the Embe Kingdom.

“Tarik, the evil dragon will soon fall, and your soul will rest in the divine realm.”

Fried stroked a pocket watch in his hand, silently making this vow.

—A gift from Tarik ten years ago, the watch bore the emblem of Heironeous, the god of valor, constantly reminding Fried to be a brave and fearless warrior.

Jaden remained uneasy, aware of the risks they faced deep in enemy territory.

“But we’re near Northwind Fortress, where Ember Nest patrols are frequent. I’m afraid…”

“You fear we’ll perish here?”

“Then stay vigilant. Trust Duke Leo’s command—if the situation threatens our lives, we retreat immediately, whether the mission is complete or not.”

Fried spoke calmly.

As an experienced Lionheart Knight, he understood the mission's peril—their foe was none other than the “Hellish calamity,” the dragon who destroyed thirty thousand allied troops.

Yet Fried repeatedly reminded himself to hold firm, believing they could succeed—or at least escape unscathed.

“Yes, Captain.”

“Wait—look! Is that the signal Duke Leo mentioned?”

In the distance, golden ripples appeared in the air—a signal only paladins with divine perception could see. This ensured their communications remained hidden from Ember Nest spies.

A faint dragon’s roar echoed, drawing the attention of nearby Emberkin patrols.

“Could it be…”

“Success?”

Fried’s composure gave way to excitement.

Even the unflappable Black Lion Knight felt exhilarated at the prospect—the red dragon had been bound or slain, and the shadow over the Northern Kingdoms had lifted!

“That’s the success signal! Quickly, let’s support those warriors!”

“Yes, Captain!”

Under the cover of invisibility spells, the Lionheart Knights followed their prearranged route, shielded by terrain and magic, swiftly advancing to the signal’s source—a lush forest.

The journey was unexpectedly smooth, without the anticipated wyverns or ogre patrols barring their way.

In mere minutes, the concealed knights reached the target area.

“Captain, is this the place?”

“It should be. The signal originated here, and the lingering holy energy in the air confirms it.”

“But why…”

“Is it so quiet here?”

“I don’t know. Stay alert and move closer.”

Fried anticipated a fierce battle between the righteous warriors and Ember Nest’s forces, with swarms of wyverns in pursuit.

Perhaps even feared figures like the "Ogre Mage" Langpu, "Warlord" Dolo, or "Greed-Mad" Gold-Fang would join the fray.

The Lionheart Knights shared this expectation, gripping their silver swords and shields tightly, reciting oaths and spells in their minds.

They were prepared for a hard-fought battle, even for heroic sacrifice.

Yet, contrary to their expectations, the forest was unnervingly tranquil, with only the rustling of leaves in the wind breaking the silence.

It was too quiet.

So quiet, it felt ominous.

There were no signs of the intense battle they had anticipated.

To the battle-hardened Fried, this felt more like a trap, luring them deeper in.

But only Duke Leo and Shroud knew the signal’s meaning. What if it was genuine, and he failed his mission?

That would make him a traitor, abandoning heroes to their fate.

Torn, Fried hesitated.

In the seemingly safe and calm surroundings, sweat began to bead on his forehead.

Facing unknown danger, fear gripped him.

He wanted to be as fearless as his late companion Tarik, unflinching even in the face of death.

But Fried knew that, despite his achievements and title as Black Lion Knight, he harbored a deep-seated insecurity—he was never as brilliant as Tarik, and even his position owed much to Tarik’s years of goodwill.

“We need to retreat.”

Ultimately, Fried trusted his instincts.

To his lieutenants, he said, “Something’s wrong here. We must withdraw to our fallback position. Once there, I’ll activate the prepared teleportation gate for an immediate escape.”

“But what about those we’re supposed to support?”

“Trust me. We can’t afford to stay. They may already be… gone, or sent the signal in desperation.”

“Understood, Captain.”

Led by their cautious leader, the Lionheart Knights abandoned their mission and retreated.

Enclosed by a mage’s invisibility spell, the knights moved undetected by the patrolling wyverns and ogres.

But as they advanced, a massive shadow descended from above, enveloping them—the invisibility spell had failed!

Fried, confused, looked up.

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