Seraphina's hands trembled as she fed pure Saintess Light into Vahn's battered body. The gentle glow illuminated the room like a dying sunrise. Her lips quivered, tears dripping silently onto his cheeks.

Zephya knelt nearby on the cold marble floor, shoulders shaking, barely able to breathe through her sobs. She had cried from the moment they arrived, repeating apologies until her voice was raw and broken.

Seraphina looked up finally, her expression torn between anguish and something far colder.

"Zephya, look at me."

The girl flinched but obeyed, forcing her eyes upward. Her silver hair was plastered to her cheeks with tears.

"Answer me honestly," Seraphina demanded,

"Were you involved in that ambush? Did you lead my husband into a trap?"

Zephya's eyes widened, and she shook her head violently.

"No! No, Master! I swear I didn't know anything. I thought… I thought I had come alone, not with any of the Supreme Elders. I didn't even sense them… I didn't… I didn't…"

She crumbled again, forehead hitting the floor as she cried.

"I would never hurt your husband… never…"

Seraphina studied her carefully. Her Holy Light sensed no lies—only fear, guilt, and the fragile hope of forgiveness.

Before she could speak, Vahn's hoarse voice drifted out.

"Enough… Seraphina."

Everyone turned toward him.

His eyes cracked open, still hazy with exhaustion but ironically calm, given the horrendous wounds he had endured.

"Let it go. This was expected from those righteous dogs. We should have been more careful."

Seraphina clenched her fist. "But you nearly died…"

Vahn managed a faint, tired smile. "But I didn't."

Lilith snorted, wiping her eyes as if embarrassed. "Barely," she muttered.

Eterna wrapped her small arms around Vahn's waist, sobbing quietly.

"You scared me… Papa… I thought…"

He reached out and stroked her hair with a trembling hand. "I'm here, little one. I'm not going anywhere."

For now, at least.

---

Days passed. Weeks, even.

The sun rose again over what had once been a barren ghost valley—now a bustling, rapidly expanding capital city of the Necrotic Dynasty. Over sixty thousand people lived there, working tirelessly to build roads, walls, markets, barracks, and temples.

The echo of hammers and construction filled the air like a new heartbeat for the kingdom.

Vahn strode into court, fully healed, wearing the regal black-gold coat tailored for kings. The hall erupted in admiration—mixed with a touch of fear. The rumor of his colossal Void Dragon form had spread like wildfire.

He sat upon the obsidian throne, Lilith on his left and Seraphina on his right.

Ezekiel stood proudly in the center of the court, armor gleaming.

"Your Majesty," Ezekiel bowed deeply as he gave his reports,

"the Mining operations in the Frost Giant territory are exceeding expectations. We've found several new veins of rare ores and high-grade mana stones. Spirit Stones are piling up in the treasury even after distribution."

The gathered ministers murmured in awe.

Ascalon Exelcrest and Golka Westlake stood at the forefront of the crowd, arms crossed proudly as they watched Ezekiel present the report. For a moment, both fathers exchanged a satisfied look. This was their son and son-in-law's achievement. Their pride.

Vahn leaned forward, amused.

"You've done well, Ezekiel. Better than I could have hoped for."

He flicked his wrist and summoned a blade wrapped in black ethereal silk. When Ezekiel unwrapped it, gasps echoed throughout the hall.

A Heaven Grade Sword.

Midnight blue with razor-sharp runes glowing faintly. The kind of treasure kingdoms waged wars for.

"This is for your work in stabilizing the Frost Territory, and for proving that you are capable of rising far beyond the expectations of others."

Ezekiel froze. His throat tightened.

"My king… I have no words…"

"Then don't say anything," Vahn smirked. "Just keep working."

Ascalon and Golka both looked like they were resisting the urge to brag loudly.

Several commanders glared with open envy.

But before the admiration could settle, a young messenger sprinted into the hall, panting.

"L-Lord Ezekiel! Emergency report!"

Ezekiel frowned. "What is it?"

The messenger swallowed hard.

"A chief of the Great Barbarian Union has arrived at the city gates requesting immediate audience with King Vahn."

The hall stiffened.

The Great Barbarian Union.

Every official knew the dynamics with them.

Ezekiel stepped toward Vahn and added,

"Your Majesty, this doesn't make sense. The envoys we sent to negotiate trade with the Great Barbarian Union were captured. Not a single one returned."

The court erupted into gasps.

Seraphina's expression turned cold.

Lilith's smile vanished.

"And now one of their chiefs dares walk into our capital?" Ezekiel continued. "Alone? Without offering an explanation? Without even demanding ransom?"

"It smells wrong," Golka muttered.

"You think it is a trap?" Ascalon asked, eyes narrowing.

Ezekiel nodded sharply.

"It doesn't add up, Your Majesty."

Vahn leaned back on his throne, tapping a finger against the armrest as a slow, dangerous smile formed.

"If their chief came here personally after capturing my envoys…"

His aura sharpened like a blade.

"Then he wants something… or he fears something."

Lilith, the second queen tilted her head.

"Are you going to meet him?"

Vahn rose and replied calmly,

"Yes. Bring him to the throne room."

His smile widened into something predatory.

"I want to see what courage or desperation drives a Barbarian Chief to walk into the den of the Void Dragon."

The throne room fell into a heavy, unnerving silence as the massive doors groaned open.

Very soon, a giant walked in.

The guards stiffened instinctively. Even among barbarians, he was a towering, muscle-forged warrior. Nearly 10 meters tall, broad as a fortress gate, covered in bone tattoos and scars that shimmered faintly with spiritual ink.

But his eyes…

They were steady. Calculating. Intelligent.

He was no brute.

He was Chief Jargo, who was once one of the Great Barbarian Union's strongest battle chiefs, now reduced to a lone traveler seeking refuge.

A hushe of silence fell over the hall as he approached the throne.

Jargo paused, then struck his fist across his chest and kneeled with a heavy thud.

"King Vahn of the Necrotic Dynasty," he rumbled. "I come with no weapon drawn no warriors at my back. only with the truth and a plea."

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