The wilderness between Eltari City and the Solkara lands was a long stretch of broken ground, dry wind, and low hills that never seemed to end.
The last Eltari Overlord had stopped trying to count the hours.
His body told him enough. His legs burned, his lungs felt like they were pulling in dust instead of air, and his heart hammered so hard that it drowned out the sound of his own footsteps.
He forced himself to keep moving.
He crested a final ridge and saw the city walls.
The Solkara city rose from the ground like a black-and-red fortress. Its stone walls were layered and thick, carved with symbols of conquest and strength. Tall towers stood at regular intervals, and at the gates were figures that looked more like statues than guards.
Red skin. Four arms. Black, unblinking eyes.
The Solkara.
The Eltari Overlord slowed to a walk. His body finally refused to keep running. He staggered forward, dust clinging to his clothes and sweat dripping down his face.
The two guards at the gate shifted their stance as he approached.
Their upper arms rested near the hilts of their weapons, while their lower arms stayed loose, ready to move.
"I— I am here to request an audience with the Solkara Lord," the Eltari said, his voice rough and uneven. He took a breath and forced the words out clearly. "It is an emergency."
The guards glanced at each other.
Their expressions didn’t change much, but there was a brief pause, and a silent exchange.
One of them stepped back and signaled toward the small gatehouse built into the wall.
Moments later, an officer emerged.
He was taller than the other two, and his armor was marked with a different pattern across the chest and shoulders.
His gaze settled on the Eltari Overlord, taking in the dirt, the sweat, and the way his hands trembled.
"You look like you’ve been running for a long time," the officer said.
"I have," the Eltari replied. "Please. I need to speak with your Lord."
The officer studied him for another second, then nodded.
"Come inside. You can sit while we inform him of your presence."
The Eltari Overlord followed, his steps unsteady but determined. Inside the gatehouse office, the air was cooler. Stone walls blocked out the wind, and a small table sat in the center with a few chairs around it.
Despite his Overlord rank strength, none of the Solkara acted intimidated.
They didn’t bow or show fear.
But they weren’t rude either.
Their manners were respectful.
The officer gestured to a chair. "Sit. Tell me what happened."
The Eltari Overlord didn’t waste time. The words poured out.
He spoke of the Ashfang Tribe, of how they had appeared at the city’s edge without warning. He talked about the Ghost Tamer Lady, the monsters under her control, and the way his own forces had been overwhelmed before they even understood what they were facing.
He leaned forward, hands gripping the edge of the table.
"Please help my city. I will share all the resources in my territory with your Lord. Everything we have. Just... just help me save the people who are still alive," he said.
The officer rubbed his chin, eyes narrowing slightly as he considered it.
"Hmm. The resources in Eltari lands aren’t exactly impressive. But the situation you’re describing isn’t something we can ignore either. If you plead your case properly, the Lord might listen," he said.
The Eltari Overlord nodded quickly.
"I will. I will say anything he needs to hear."
Hours passed.
The Eltari was given water, then food, though he barely tasted it. His mind kept circling back to his city. To the faces he’d left behind.
Finally, a Solkara messenger entered the room.
"The Lord will see you now," he said.
The meeting hall was vast, its ceiling supported by thick stone pillars carved with the history of the Solkara’s battles and victories. Torches lined the walls, their flames steady and bright.
At the far end of the hall sat the throne.
Averon Solkara lounged in it rather than sitting straight. One leg rested over the other, and his fist supported his cheek. He looked relaxed, almost bored, but there was something in his eyes that made the Eltari Overlord’s stomach tighten.
He dropped to one knee.
"Please help my city, O Solkara Lord We are under attack by the Ashfang Tribe, led by a Ghost Tamer Lady who commands Overlord-rank monsters. We cannot hold them back alone," he said, bowing his head.
Then, he explained everything that had happened.
Averon tilted his head slightly.
"You’re saying the Ashfang Tribe, a monster tribe known for keeping to themselves, suddenly decided to attack your city without reason," he said.
"Yes," the Eltari replied quickly. "They came to our gates and demanded surrender. When we refused, they attacked. We don’t know why they chose us."
Averon leaned back and glanced toward the side of the hall, where an older Solkara warrior stood.
"What do you think?" Averon asked.
The advisor folded his arms, thinking.
"The Ghost Tamer Lady might be the key, and the one who brought the Ashfang Tribe to Eltari City. From what he described, she commands at least three Overlord-rank monsters. Even if we don’t intend to save the Eltari, we should investigate. Someone like that could become a problem for us later."
Averon nodded slowly.
He turned his attention back to the Eltari Overlord.
"I will send a team to your city tomorrow. Remember this, though. For saving your people, you will pay tribute. Resources, territory, influence. We will decide what is fair. For now, you’ll be given a room. Go rest for the night."
The Eltari Overlord lowered his head again, this time all the way to the floor.
"Thank you, Solkara Lord," he said.
He was escorted out of the hall, relief and fear mixing in his chest. He had bought reinforcement. Whether it would be enough, he didn’t know.
Once the doors closed behind him, a hush settled over the meeting hall.
The advisor stepped forward, about to call in the next petitioner.
Averon raised a hand.
"Isn’t it time you come out now?" he said, his eyes fixed on a spot in the air near where the Eltari had been standing.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then the air shimmered.
A figure stepped forward as if pushing through a thin veil.
Catherine.
Several Solkara gasped. A few reached for their weapons before stopping themselves.
Everyone in the hall knew who she was.
And her connection to the man on the throne.
With a hint of amusement in his voice, Averon asked, "Have you come to finally accept my offer—"
"I’m not here for that, little Averon," Catherine said, cutting him off smoothly.
The corner of his mouth twitched, but he kept smiling.
"Then why are you here?"
"The attack on the Eltari was done by humans. The reason was..."
Catherine began to explain everything.
By the time she finished, several faces in the hall had darkened.
"It seems the Eltari reaped what they sowed," the advisor sighed. "In that case, we will not make trouble with the humans. However, we do need to know how humans came into possession of such ferocious power. They were a weak race until recently."
"We have a Lord with powerful Talent. He—"
"You have a Lord?" Averon cut in.
His relaxed posture vanished. He straightened on the throne, eyes locked on Catherine.
The easy smile he usually wore was gone, replaced by something sharper, and more personal.
"You... Did you become that Lord’s subject?"
"Yes," she said, and smiled.
Averon’s hand slammed against the armrest.
"Why?" His voice echoed through the hall. "Why become a subject of a weak race like that? I could’ve—"