Chapter 3 — The Kingdom Above All

There was no kingdom greater than Therians.

At least, that was what the world believed.

Its cities were built from black stone strong enough to survive dragon fire. Its armies were feared across every continent. Its banners flew over trade routes, mountains, and frozen seas alike. Even the air inside Therians felt different — colder, heavier, filled with pride and power.

For centuries, the kingdom stood above all others.

And at the center of that greatness stood the royal capital itself.

Massive walls of ice-covered steel surrounded the city like an unbreakable fortress. Towering statues of ancient kings watched silently from above while armored dragon riders crossed the skies overhead, their shadows passing across the streets beneath them.

To outsiders, the capital of Therians looked less like a city…

And more like the heart of an empire destined to rule forever.

Inside the Royal Palace, dozens of nobles stood in silence within the Grand Hall. Golden chandeliers illuminated the massive chamber while soldiers wearing silver armor guarded every entrance.

At the far end of the hall sat King Ragna upon the Frost Throne.

Even among warriors, Ragna was considered terrifying.

His long white cloak rested behind him like flowing snow, and the pressure of his presence alone was enough to make lesser men lower their eyes. Countless scars marked his body — proof that the king fought beside his soldiers instead of hiding behind walls.

Some called him the strongest Ice King in history.

Others called him the man closest to becoming a legend.

But despite the kingdom’s glory…

Something was wrong.

The atmosphere inside the hall felt tense.

Uneasy.

Because news had arrived from the southern borders.

Another portal had opened.

A soldier knelt before the throne, breathing heavily from exhaustion.

“The Gouls attacked another village near the eastern trade roads, Your Majesty,” he reported. “No survivors were found.”

Silence spread across the chamber.

One of the nobles cursed quietly beneath his breath while another nervously tightened his grip around his wine cup.

The Gouls had become humanity’s greatest nightmare.

Nobody understood where they truly came from. The portals connecting their dying world to this one appeared without warning, tearing reality apart before unleashing creatures hungry for destruction.

Some Gouls looked human.

Others looked like monsters born directly from hell itself.

And every year…

The portals increased.

Ragna slowly leaned back against his throne.

“How many this time?”

The soldier hesitated.

“Over three hundred Gouls, Your Majesty… including high-class variants.”

Several nobles immediately panicked.

“That close to the capital?” “How is that possible?” “The barriers should’ve detected them!”

But Ragna remained calm.

Cold.

Dangerously calm.

“Send the Third Dragon Battalion,” he ordered. “Burn everything near the portal before more creatures emerge.”

The soldier lowered his head immediately.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

As the man hurried out of the hall, the nobles began arguing among themselves once more.

Some demanded stronger defenses. Others wanted to close the borders completely. A few even suggested abandoning smaller villages near portal zones.

Cowards hiding behind expensive clothes.

Ragna watched them silently with growing disappointment.

Then suddenly—

The massive doors of the Grand Hall opened.

A tall man entered wearing dark green royal armor marked with silver wind symbols across the chest.

The atmosphere instantly changed.

King Yamin had arrived.

Unlike Ragna’s cold and overwhelming presence, Yamin carried himself with confidence and elegance. His long black hair moved gently behind him while sharp gray eyes scanned the room with amusement.

He smiled.

And somehow that smile felt more dangerous than a sword.

“My old friend,” Yamin said casually while approaching the throne. “I leave my kingdom for three weeks and suddenly the world starts collapsing again.”

For the first time since the meeting began…

Ragna laughed.

A real laugh.

The tension inside the hall immediately weakened as the two kings embraced each other like brothers reunited after years apart.

Many younger nobles looked shocked by the sight.

Legends often made powerful rulers seem less human in stories.

But Ragna and Yamin truly trusted one another.

They had fought together since youth. Survived wars together. Bled together.

People used to say that if both kings stood on the same battlefield, defeat became impossible.

Yamin eventually sat beside the throne while servants filled silver cups with wine.

“The Gouls?” he asked.

Ragna nodded slowly. “They’re increasing again.”