The wind that swept over Cinderguard was sharp and dry, carrying the faint stench of burnt ozone and cracked stone. Kian stood atop the unfinished ramparts of the Spire-Knot Citadel, watching Lord Haleric's forces approach in perfect, menacing formation.
Dozens of Heraldic knights in silverplate armor glinted beneath the rising sun. Banners bearing the twin-headed sigil of the Obsidian Throne flapped above them, and at the center, Haleric's helm reflected the light like a blade aimed at Kian's heart.
He descended the rampart steps without a word, meeting Veyna at the base of the wall.
"He's not here to talk, is he?" she asked, pulling her cloak tighter, hand resting on her dagger.
"No," Kian replied. "He's here to make a statement."
Kess joined them, map scrolls clutched against her chest, eyes narrowed behind her ink-streaked lenses. "If he breaches the ramparts before the Citadel is declared neutral ground, the Throne-Speakers and Gutter Banners will see it as betrayal."
Jerie and Gellon arrived from the east gate, weapons slung but eyes wary.
"What's the move?" Jerie asked. "Smile and parley, or hit him with a memory pulse and run?"
Kian's expression didn't waver. "Neither. I face him. Alone."
Veyna stepped forward immediately. "Not a chance."
"He's not attacking yet," Kian said. "He's demanding something. If I don't go, he'll use it as justification to strike."
Seris appeared from the shadows of the gate arch. She said nothing, simply nodded once, approval or warning—it was impossible to tell.
The courtyard filled with ash-hushed silence as Kian walked toward the incoming force. His footsteps echoed against half-built stone and scaffoldings. At fifty paces, the Heraldic troops parted with precise efficiency, revealing Lord Haleric seated upon a black war-steed crafted from fused bone and arc-tech plating.
Haleric dismounted with slow grace and removed his helm. Silver hair, streaked with old blood, framed eyes like steel nails.
"Architect," he said, voice dry as parchment.
"Haleric," Kian returned, stopping ten paces away. "I thought you were content to rule from behind the lines."
"I ruled a city, not a dream." Haleric's gaze swept across the Citadel. "And dreams built on ash crumble fast."
Kian said nothing.
The Lord took a step closer. "You've made promises to scavengers, traitors, and outcasts. You offer memory for bread, and strength for forgiveness. But you forget—this world was built on hierarchy."
"It was broken by it."
"You're clever." Haleric's tone sharpened. "But clever doesn't win wars. Steel does."
Kian's eyes narrowed.
[Codex Analysis: Verbal Duel Initiated]
▸ Opponent: Lord Haleric
▸ Intent: Dismantle morale, destabilize negotiations
▸ Outcome Prediction: 63% chance of escalation
"I didn't build this to win a war," Kian said slowly. "I built it so people like you wouldn't be able to start one."
A silence fell.
Then, Haleric smiled.
Without warning, he drew his sword in a flash of blue-steel and swung down at the ground. The strike sent a ripple of arcane force outward, cracking the earth between them.
Kian didn't move.
"I will give you one test," Haleric said. "One of my champions against one of your own. If you win, we leave. If you lose, the Citadel falls and all within it submit to my terms."
Behind him, a tall, armored figure stepped forward, helm sculpted into the shape of a snarling lion.
"Name your champion."
Back within the Citadel, the team gathered quickly in the inner court.
"I'll do it," Veyna said, already stepping forward.
"No," Gellon cut in. "Let me face him. We don't know his style, and I'm the only one used to Heraldic blade forms."
Kess raised a hand. "We don't need a duel. We could refuse. We're not under his law anymore."
"He'll take that as surrender," Seris said simply.
Jerie raised an eyebrow. "So we fight the lion-knight in front of an army to prove we're worth not being crushed?"
Kian looked at each of them.
Then he said quietly, "I'll go."
The duel was held at midday.
A ring was cleared beyond the scaffolding. Knights formed a disciplined circle around it. On one side stood Kian in light armor, his spear pulsing faintly with system-bound runes. On the other, the lion-knight—Sir Caedric, Haleric's personal champion—clad in full Heraldic plate, wielding a greatsword crackling with old enchantments.
No words were exchanged.
A horn sounded.
Caedric lunged with terrifying speed. Kian barely sidestepped, his spear scraping against the heavy blade. The impact shook his arms.
[Predation: Blood-Pattern Recognition Active]
▸ Countering enemy strike
[Codex: Tectonic Anchor Detected]
▸ Ground Shift Enabled
Kian dropped low, striking at Caedric's legs. Sparks burst from greaves as the knight twisted mid-swing and brought his sword down in a crushing arc.
Kian rolled aside, came up behind him, and drove the butt of his spear into Caedric's spine—but the plate held.
Caedric turned fast, elbow slamming into Kian's jaw. The world tilted.
[SYSTEM DAMAGE: Minor Concussion Detected]
▸ Countermeasure: Adaptive Reflex Recalibration… Complete
Kian used the momentum of the blow to pivot around Caedric's strike and slammed his spear into the knight's gauntlet. Metal buckled. The sword dropped.
Before Caedric could recover, Kian spun and struck him full across the chest.
The plate split.
Caedric fell back, breathing hard, blood pooling beneath the armor's split seal.
Silence.
Haleric raised a hand—and the knights stepped back.
The duel was over.
Later that night, the Citadel gates closed under a sky filled with silent stars. Haleric had withdrawn, and his knights marched away into the northern passes.
Kian sat atop the rampart, bruised and quiet.
Veyna leaned beside him, wordless.
"You should've fought him," Kian murmured.
"You wouldn't have let me."
He smiled faintly. "Maybe."
She nudged his arm. "You looked good. Very heroic. All the orphans are gossiping."
He laughed, then winced. "Don't make me laugh. My ribs are cracked."
Veyna leaned closer. "Fine. I'll just sit here and be emotionally supportive."
He closed his eyes. "Thanks."
And for a few long minutes, they sat in peace.
End of Chapter 42