As the dawn painted the sky in hues of blood orange and violet, the wind beneath his wings carried him toward his new destination.

An anarchic city that lived by its own laws, a place not even fully marked on the empire's maps.

The journey was long, days chasing nights.

In his raven form, Cassian watched the world from a perspective imperceptible to the human eye.

He shot like an arrow over lush forests, felt the sharp chill of snow-capped mountain peaks, and witnessed rivers snaking their way through fertile plains.

This long flight offered him not only the means to cover distances but also ample time to think.

His doppelgänger ability was far more than he had anticipated.

It was not just a tool for concealment, but a weapon.

Seeing the world through the eyes of a raven proved to him once again how easily humans let their guard down, how they held important conversations in the most unexpected places, and how utterly unaware they were of the danger lurking within a shadow.

The operation at the Three Barrels Inn had been a flawless test. Silent, clean, and effective.

This would be a fundamental tactic for his future plans: infiltrate unnoticed, eliminate the target, and vanish as if he had never existed.

After a journey of several weeks, a silhouette appearing on the horizon heralded his approaching destination.

Veythral.

It was a place neither fully within nor entirely outside the empire; a grey area where laws bent, power spoke, and the sword and spell replaced justice.

The city was surrounded by high, crudely built stone walls, yet they resembled less the elegance of a kingdom and more a hastily erected barricade to protect against some wild beast.

The smoke rising from within spoke of countless forges and inns.

As he circled above the city, Cassian saw its chaotic nature more clearly.

There was no specific city plan; buildings seemed to be squeezed on top of, next to, and between each other as needed.

Expansive training grounds, arenas, and numerous guild halls screamed that the beating heart of Veythral was its adventurers and warriors.

It was said that half the population consisted of such people, and every corner of the city reflected this reality.

Cassian descended into a dense forest just outside the city.

After perching on the branch of a tree, unseen by anyone, his body once again defied the laws of nature.

The jet-black feathers retracted, bones reshaped, and in an instant, the dark shadow took on the form of a young man in his early twenties with black hair and black eyes.

His attire was that of a common but well-made traveler, suitable for the road.

He pulled a simple cloak from his dimensional pouch to cover his face and left the forest, walking toward the main gate of Veythral.

The guards at the gate lacked the discipline of imperial soldiers.

Their armor was old and patched, their postures reflecting not so much alertness as weariness.

As they sized up the passersby, their eyes seemed to be weighing a potential customer or victim rather than a potential threat.

They cast a momentary glance at Cassian, and seeing no threat in him, lost interest.

The moment Cassian stepped into the city, the raw and wild energy of Veythral hit him like a slap in the face.

The air was thick with the pungent smell of sweat, cast iron, cheap alcohol, and the remains of exotic beasts.

The streets teemed with warriors of every race and kind. Barbarians carrying massive axes at their waists, hunters with crossbows on their backs, mages hiding mysterious glimmers beneath their cloaks, and mercenaries at every corner looking for a new job or a new fight...

This was a place where the weak were easily crushed, but the skilled could rise quickly.

And at the center of all this chaos, a single name held everything together: Fredrinn.

As Cassian moved through the crowd, the tragic story he knew from the "game" came to life in his mind.

Fredrinn, the 6, perhaps even 7-star ruler of Veythral. But before he achieved this power, he was merely the rebellious son of Count Osric.

His father was a rigid man obsessed with enhancing the family's prestige, viewing his children as investments.

All of Fredrinn's siblings had bent to their father's will, selling their souls to become perfect nobles. But Fredrinn was different.

Within him was a wild spirit that could not be chained. He responded to every punishment, every pressure, with even greater rebellion.

His father finally gave up on him and, both to be rid of him and to make a gesture to the Holy Church, decided to send him to the church to become a knight in its service.

This was the last straw for Fredrinn. One night, he escaped from the golden cage to which he belonged.

Count Osric had thought him a spoiled child who would come crying back after facing the cruelty of the outside world.

He was sorely mistaken.

Fredrinn threw himself into adventuring as if he were born for it. That wild spirit within him found a home in the dangerous environments of dungeons and ruins.

He quickly made a name for himself, his skills becoming legendary.

And he was not alone on this path.

He had found a companion named Julian. They were not brothers by blood, but their bond was far stronger.

As brilliant and talented as Fredrinn was, Julian was calm and loyal. Together, they faced countless dangers.

Until that cursed day.

The scenes in Cassian's mind grew clearer as he passed a weapon shop.

Fredrinn running to Julian with the boyish thrill of adventure on his face... Telling him of an ancient ruin said to be dangerous, and the legendary stone within...

The bad premonition Julian felt, his attempts to dissuade his friend melting away in the face of Fredrinn's enthusiasm...

When they entered the ruins, everything was suspiciously easy. The traps were ineffective, the monsters weak.

As Julian's anxiety grew with every step, Fredrinn seemed to scent victory.

Finally, they reached their goal: a glowing blue stone on a pedestal, resembling a piece of the sky.

The moment Fredrinn reached out to take the stone, the gates of hell opened.

The entire ruin began to shake, the ceiling to collapse. They tried to run, but the massive stone door behind them slammed shut with a thunderous noise, trapping them.

No matter how hard they struck it, no matter what magic they used, the door would not budge.

In that moment, Julian made the decision of his life.

He snatched the stone from Fredrinn's hand and pressed it against the chest of his astonished friend.

As Fredrinn tried to understand what was happening, a painful, self-sacrificing smile appeared on Julian's face.

"Farewell, my brother," he whispered.

A blinding blue energy radiating from the stone enveloped Fredrinn's entire body. The last thing he saw was the face of his brother, who did not lose his smile even as he was buried under the rubble.

When Fredrinn came to his senses outside the ruin, with nearly every bone in his body broken, the blue stone had kept him alive.

Bleeding, in agony, he began to frantically dig through the wreckage.

For hours, for days, he searched for Julian until his nails were torn off and his hands were shredded.

But he found not a single trace of him. Not a body, not a drop of blood...

It was as if the ruin had swallowed Julian whole and spat him out into another dimension.

The only thing he could find was the necklace Julian always wore, a small crystal hanging from it. The light in that crystal still burned, however faintly.

This necklace was tied to Julian's life force. As long as the light was on, Julian was alive.

Somewhere.

This small glimmer of hope was what kept Fredrinn alive and turned him into the man he was today.

He spent years searching for his friend, relentlessly improving himself. He eventually rose to lead Veythral, making it his own kingdom.

Because Veythral was a hub where news of dungeons, ruins, and events from all over the world gathered. Every new discovery, every new rumor, was a hope for him on the path to finding Julian.

One day, one day he would find his brother.

The "game" knowledge in Cassian's mind whispered that their next encounter would be anything but pleasant.

But that was not part of Cassian's plan.

Not for now.

Breaking from his thoughts, Cassian stood before the most imposing structure in the city center.

It was neither a palace nor a castle; it more closely resembled a massive, fortified guild hall.

It was known as the "Ruler's Keep," and it was from here that Fredrinn governed Veythral.

The armored guards at its entrance were far more elite than those at the city gate.

Cassian's plan was simple, yet audacious.

He would offer Fredrinn the one thing he had been searching for for years: hope.

He would offer to help him find Julian.

In return, he would ask for only one thing: the full power of Fredrinn and Veythral to back his future moves in the north.

It was like a gambler betting his entire fortune on a single throw of the dice.

But Cassian knew the cards he held were unbeatable.

He was about to make Fredrinn an offer he could never refuse.

With a cold and calculating expression on his face, hidden in the shadow of his cloak, he took the first step onto the massive stairs of the Ruler's Keep.

The game that would shape the fate of Veythral, and his own future, was about to begin.

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