The men dragged Lyanna, Daphne, Sally, Riven, and Melly without a word, leading them down a muddy, slippery path lit only by flickering lanterns. The roots that had once restrained them were gone, replaced by iron chains clamped around their wrists and ankles.

After some time, they arrived at a large encampment hidden behind dense trees. Thin smoke curled up from a few fire pits, the guards' tents stood tightly packed, and a black flag bearing an unfamiliar emblem fluttered soundlessly.

There was no raucous laughter. No cries of victory. The atmosphere was quiet and controlled, as if everyone there understood that tonight was not the end, but the beginning of something much larger.

They were taken straight into a large tent at the center of the camp. Inside, a heavy iron cage stood in the corner. Its bars were thick, pitch black, and seemed to be driven straight into the earth itself. Riven and Melly were pushed in first, followed by Lyanna, Daphne, and Sally.

Two male guards stood by the entrance of the tent, holding long spears and clad in dark leather cloaks. They seemed relaxed, but their sharp eyes never left the five captives.

Once the tent flap was closed and chained shut from the outside, silence filled the space.

Lyanna immediately stood and examined the cage bars. With bare hands, she tried to bend one of the metal rods, but it didn't budge. She pushed harder, channeling her wrath, yet the metal didn't move an inch.

One of the guards scoffed lazily and said, "Stop trying, Lady. Unless you're a Lawbearer at the Runed Core stage, there's no breaking those bars."

Lyanna snapped her head toward him, eyes burning, but she didn't answer. The muscles in her arms tensed, veins bulging from her shoulders to her wrists. Her jaw clenched, but in the end, she just exhaled sharply and dropped down beside Sally—her mother, who had regained consciousness, though she still looked pale and weak.

Sally gently squeezed her daughter's hand, trying to offer some calm. But Lyanna's skin was cold, and her gaze still wild like a caged beast.

Elsewhere in the cage, Riven lay on his side. His body was still aching from injuries, motionless and silent. His eyes were open, staring at the dark fabric of the tent with a distant expression. His beloved sword had been taken. His sister had nearly died because of him.

Melly sat beside him, her knees drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped tightly around herself. Through the mess of her hair, she glanced sideways at her brother.

He didn't look like himself. His face was bleak, his jaw locked, his eyes sharp—not out of fear, but out of fury and helplessness. Melly recognized that expression.

It was the same face from long ago.

The face Riven wore in the earliest days of their survival, back when they scavenged warfields for weapons and corpses. When their nights were filled with silent sobs heard only by the wind and the little sister who pretended to sleep beside him.

Melly had thought she'd never see that face again.

But now… her brother had become that boy once more. A broken child who had lost everything and hated himself more than anyone else ever could.

She wanted to speak, to hold him, to tell him it wasn't his fault. But instead, she just bit her lip and looked down.

Because she knew… at times like this, Riven wouldn't say a word.

And outside the tent, the night wind blew softly, carrying the sound of the forest like a quiet sob. As if the whole world knew the war hadn't even begun, because the worst was yet to come.

For a while, silence wrapped the tent like a shroud. Nothing could be heard except slow breathing and the heavy thud of hearts beating. Sally's eyes stayed fixed on the two guards outside the cage. Her stare was steady, sharp like an old blade long sheathed but never dulled.

At last, she spoke, her voice calm yet laced with pressure.

"You're Royal Security Knights, aren't you?" she asked plainly. "You're supposed to protect the people of this kingdom. Why are you working with an enemy nation? Have you no honor left?"

Her words struck like an arrow. The guards didn't respond at first, but their expressions darkened.

One of them answered, his voice cold and even, "A Royal Security Knight swears to obey every command from our superiors, Lady Rathsture. We have no right to refuse."

Sally didn't blink. "Even if that order means betraying your own kingdom?"

The guard gave a slow nod, his voice softer. "Yes... It was our mistake. We were too rigid in our loyalty. But after all this… there's no going back for us."

Sally shook her head slightly, eyes still locked on his. "You can still return. Release us. Help us escape. I will restore your honor. You will face judgment, yes—but you'll be remembered as men who chose the right path when it mattered most."

The two men exchanged a look. One of them hesitated, his fingers twitching by his waist as if weighing the cost. The other looked down at the floor, silent.

But before either could answer, the tent flap rustled open. A man with tousled brown hair and spectacles walked in with a casual gait.

"I must admit, Marchioness," he said with a thin smile. "Your words were quite moving. Nearly brought a tear to my eye."

Sally turned to him with a glare. There was no shock in her eyes—only growing hatred.

"I won't even dignify your presence with a glance, traitor," she said coldly. "Wasn't your plan to frame my husband for treason just because he killed the envoy you sent? And now look at you. Siding with a foreign crown. How disgraceful."

Marquess Briarwood chuckled. He seemed amused by every word, as if insults were gifts wrapped in ribbons.

"Well," he replied casually, "that was the plan, until we crossed paths with Prince Mordune. Turns out, there was a faster route to victory."

Sally scoffed in disgust but said nothing more. Her glare was like fire—steady and burning.

Briarwood went on, voice calm and calculated.

"Most of the fools are probably fighting tooth and nail right now to take Belgrande from Havel. They think conquering that city makes them worthy of the crown. So desperate to place it on their heads."

He paused, then smiled.

"But in the end, victory doesn't belong to the impatient. It belongs to those who wait… and strike when no one's looking."

He turned slightly toward the two guards, still standing motionless.

"Once they've exhausted themselves seizing Belgrande, I'll come in with Mordune's forces and take it all without lifting a finger."

The guards now looked uneasy. Before they could act or speak, dark roots burst from the ground inside the tent. They surged upward like ravenous creatures.

In seconds, they coiled around the two men, binding them from legs to shoulders. One screamed for help. The other bit his lip so hard it bled. But neither could break free.

Sickening cracks filled the air.

The roots tightened and crushed them like rag dolls. Their bodies were mangled from within. Blood splattered the canvas walls. In mere moments, nothing remained but two mangled corpses.

Melly gasped, covering her mouth as her whole body trembled. She couldn't look away from the horror in front of her.

Lyanna turned her face aside, jaw clenched. Daphne stared blankly, fists clenched so tight her knuckles turned white. Riven said nothing, his eyes unreadable.

Sally didn't flinch. Her expression only grew darker, like a marble statue carved from fury.

Marquess Briarwood calmly dusted off his shoulder.

"I won't risk even the smallest chance of escape," he said smoothly. "Don't hope for traitors with a conscience."

He stepped closer to the cage, letting the lantern's light cast a flickering shadow across his face.

"With all of you here, all I have to do is wait for dawn. When the sun rises, Aiden will kneel… and Glimfell will be ours."

Sally lifted her chin. Her voice stayed steady, but a fire burned behind every word. "He will still defend the city. Do you really think my husband would surrender so easily just because we're taken hostage?"

Marquess Briarwood gave a faint smile, his eyes cold.

"Of course he will. He'll do anything to save his family… even if it means killing innocent people like my sister."

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