After Sir Harold Peric left Monte Castle with mixed emotions, the fortress didn’t return to its usual tranquility. Instead, it grew even busier.

Visitors from all corners, each with their own agenda, began to arrive in a continuous stream, like birds sensing an approaching storm.

The first to arrive was an envoy from the Douglas Clan, a Baron named Ellis. He was a cousin of the current Northern Guardian, Duke Douglas, and was renowned for his prudence and competence.

"Lord Melfield, Lady Aurora," Baron Ellis said after a bow, his voice resonant yet courteous. "His Grace the Duke has entrusted me to convey his sincerest regards and to express his admiration for the prosperity of Monte Territory under your governance. In recent years, the burgeoning trade along the Northern Territory’s routes has also greatly benefited the Douglas Territory."

From his seat at the head of the table, Murphy gave a slight nod. "Welcome, Baron Ellis."

Aurora offered a gentle smile. "Is His Grace the Duke in good health? The peace of the Northern Territory depends on the Guardian’s presence."

"His Grace the Duke is quite well, merely preoccupied with numerous matters of late." Baron Ellis accepted the mead offered by an attendant and took a small sip, seamlessly steering the conversation to the matter at hand. "I presume Your Lordship has heard about the incident at the Southern Taimer Palace, as well as the unsettling movements over in Castile. His Grace the Duke believes that in these troubled times, close ties within the Northern Territory are more important than ever."

He set down his cup, his expression growing more serious. "His Grace the Duke wishes to know Monte Territory’s stance on the turmoil that may soon embroil the Kingdom. Furthermore, what support do you require from the Douglas Clan to ensure our shared northern frontier remains as solid as a rock?"

Murphy replied calmly, "Baron, Monte Territory’s stance has always been consistent: to protect the peace of our domain and maintain the stability of the Northern Territory. Any destructive forces, whether external or internal, are our common enemy. As for support..."

He paused, his steady gaze meeting the baron’s. "A solid alliance is, in itself, the greatest support. The Douglas Clan’s prestige and power in the Northern Territory are the very foundation that deters would-be troublemakers. Monte Territory has made some small advancements in military forging and certain new technologies. If His Grace the Duke deems it necessary to strengthen the border garrisons or upgrade some armaments, we are willing to prioritize providing our allies with the necessary supplies and technical assistance on a fair and mutually beneficial basis."

Baron Ellis studied Murphy carefully for a moment before nodding slowly. "Your candor is admirable, my lord. Strengthening our exchange and cooperation on armaments is indeed a pragmatic step in response to these changing circumstances. I will convey your intentions to His Grace the Duke in full. I am certain His Grace will be pleased to see the powers of the Northern Territory brought more closely together."

After Baron Ellis departed, more visitors arrived in quick succession.

There was an official envoy from Count Laura’s Domain in the South, bearing a letter of intent personally signed by the Count, along with more detailed ore samples and navigational charts. He was attempting to formalize the verbal understanding reached at Taymer Palace into a binding agreement.

There were representatives from several powerful Viscounts and wealthy merchants from the central Kingdom. Sensing both opportunity and danger on the eve of turmoil, they came seeking either to establish more stable trade ties with the rising Monte Territory or to probe for a reliable "safe harbor" in the potential chaos to come.

There were even two Low-tier Clergy from different small southern parishes, both with mysterious backgrounds. They visited under the pretext of "discussing ecclesiastical matters," evasively probing for the "true intentions" of Monte Territory following the meeting with Archbishop John of the Crescent District, as well as the Governor’s "personal opinion" on the Church Court’s potential upcoming measures.

The castle remained lit late into the night, every day. Maps and documents piled high in the study, and the air in the reception hall was thick with a complex mixture of aromas from various spices, leather, and parchment.

Kaiden was also permitted to observe some of these receptions, as part of his necessary training as the future heir.

Aurora, meanwhile, was coordinating everything.

She arranged meeting schedules, screened potential visitors, prepared diplomatic strategies, and personally revised the wording of critical documents.

Murphy, on the other hand, retreated behind the scenes to focus on enhancing his own power.

He understood better than anyone that in the impending, all-consuming storm, absolute personal strength was the final cornerstone upon which destiny was built.

...

「Two months later.」

Deep within the Iron Ridge Mountain Range, at Eagle’s Beak Peak.

The peak was perpetually shrouded in clouds and mist, battered by razor-sharp gales. It was a forbidden zone, devoid of life, where not even the hardiest mountain hunters dared to tread.

The exposed black rock, like the gnawed bones of a great god, pierced the leaden sky with its jagged, menacing form.

It was the dead of night, a time that should have been utterly silent. Yet, atop a massive, artificially-hewn platform on the summit, unsettling Energy Fluctuations surged.

The platform was an irregularly shaped circle, over thirty meters in diameter. Its surface was etched with countless geometric lines and ancient runes of dizzying complexity.

These markings were not static. A liquid silver light seemed to flow slowly within them, emitting a low, deep hum like a drone from the very depths of the earth. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

Five figures stood silently at the five most critical runic nodes on the platform’s edge, arranged in the shape of a pentagram.

They were all clad in similar dark black robes, the hems of which stirred without any wind. They each radiated an almost tangible pressure, causing the very air above the platform to visibly distort.

They were none other than five Official Wizards from the Tower of Secret Silver, led by Marquis Alonso.

Alonso stood at the primary northern position, his face as pale as ever, his iron-gray hair impeccably combed.