Chapter Forty-Seven– The Fires of Conquest
The Sultan's war camp was a city of flames, banners, and unyielding discipline. Tens of thousands of soldiers from the continent of Zephyra had landed on the shores of the Ashren continent, their mighty fleet anchored along the fractured coastline. The air carried the scent of salt, firewood, and blood.
Tents adorned with golden embroidery stretched as far as the eye could see, each one housing soldiers trained for one purpose only — conquest. Watchtowers crafted from obsidian and enchanted steel rose high over the landscape, manned by eagle-eyed scouts and powerful seers from the Zephyrian priesthood.
At the very center of the camp stood The Throne Tent — a grand crimson pavilion supported by silver spears, guarded by forty elite warriors, each of whom had taken an oath to die before letting harm come to their master.
Inside, Sultan Mohamed I sat cross-legged on a throne made of lion bones and charred oak, draped in desert silks, the Flame Crown glowing above his bald head. His skin was dark bronze, his eyes gleaming emerald green — sharp, commanding, ancient.
His blade, Vaahl's Wrath, rested beside him, humming softly with restrained fury.
Before him knelt his top generals — General Selman, the Storm Strategist; Commander Alira, the blood sorceress; and Captain Bahir, the Crimson Executioner.
A tense silence lingered.
"The tide is shifting," Selman said, bowing low. "Verthas is almost ours. The traitor Alex barely escaped."
"I allowed it," the Sultan murmured, tracing a finger along the edge of his blade. "A man who knows fear becomes far more useful than a corpse."
"What is your next move, Master?" asked Alira, her voice like velvet over a blade.
The Sultan stood, walking toward the great sand-map in the center of the room. It depicted the entire Ashren continent, with magical markers representing army movements, key strongholds, and mystical defenses.
He pointed toward three blinking lights: David's fortress, the capital of Mihai's kingdom, and the ruins of Andrew's former capital, now renamed Shadowfall.
"These three pillars are the only ones left. The rest of this cursed continent lies in ash and submission."
Bahir grunted. "Andrew won't surrender."
Mohamed smiled coldly. "He's not meant to. I will draw him out — not through strength, but through devastation."
He snapped his fingers, and a scroll floated into the air, unrolling itself.
"I have agents embedded near the eastern mountains. They've discovered The Oracle Temple of the First Flame — an ancient weapon long thought sealed. With its magic, I will create a firestorm that will obliterate the entire central belt of Ashren. Farms, rivers, villages, soldiers — all turned to cinders."
"Won't that bring him out too soon?" Alira asked.
"Yes," the Sultan said. "That's the point. I want Andrew angry. I want his shadow army drawn out of the dark."
He turned to face them.
"And then I will end him — not with my blade, but with The Chains of Ka'tul, forged by the ancient sun gods. The same chains that once bound the Titan of War. With them, I will enslave the so-called 'Immortal King' and parade him through the streets of Zephyra."
The room was silent for a long moment.
Selman finally spoke. "And the boy? Kael?"
Mohamed's smile vanished. His eyes grew colder.
"He's the last wildcard," he admitted. "Too many whispers speak of him like he's the second coming of Andrew. But I've seen the cracks in him. His compassion. His hesitation."
He stepped forward and drove his finger into the map where Kael was last seen — near the ruins of Verthas.
"I want him hunted. Wounded. Chased like a dog. Don't kill him. Not yet. Let him run. Let him fear."
Then he raised his voice, loud and booming with divine authority.
"Let the continent burn. Let the world see that Zephyra has come not for conquest — but for final judgment."
Meanwhile…
In the shadows near the edge of the Sultan's camp, a small flicker of magic blinked out of existence — a watching spell.
Miles away, in David's war room, the image of the Sultan's camp faded from a crystal orb.
David looked grim.
"He's planning to use the Chains," he muttered. "He knows about the Oracle Flame. He's going for annihilation."
Kael clenched his fist. "We can't let that happen."
David nodded.
"We won't. But the war we're about to face… is unlike anything this world has ever seen."