Chapter 006
1500 Words
Inside the highest command chamber of the War Directorate of the Solaria Republic, the air felt dense, almost suffocating. Tactical maps glowed faintly across massive screens lining the walls, red and blue markers frozen in uneasy balance. Dozens of senior officers stood in rigid silence, their uniforms immaculate, their expressions tense.
At the center of the room, the old Marshal finally succeeded in establishing a secure line to Thomas Reed.
The instant the call connected, all restraint vanished.
“Thomas Reed!” the old Marshal roared, his voice detonating through the speakers. “You will explain this to me right now! Why are people from all over the world rushing toward Kingsley City?!”
He didn’t wait for an answer.
“Do you have any idea who those people are? More than half of them are permanently blacklisted from entering the Solaria Republic! Some of them have records soaked in blood—thousands of confirmed kills, mass executions, political assassinations, battlefield slaughters!”
His fist slammed down on the heavy hardwood desk.
“And you! You mobilized over one hundred thousand troops toward Kingsley City without authorization! Have you thought about the consequences? Do you even understand what you’re doing?!”
The desk shuddered violently. Hairline cracks spread across its polished surface, the sound echoing through the hall like a gunshot. Several officers instinctively straightened, not daring to so much as blink.
On the other end of the line, Thomas Reed stood perfectly upright. Years of war had carved discipline into his bones. Still, he took a long breath before speaking.
“Marshal,” he said slowly, forcing calm into his tone, “please allow me to explain. First of all, I can guarantee this—none of my senior brothers or sisters bear any hostility toward the Solaria Republic.”
There was a brief pause.
“The reason all of this is happening,” he continued, his voice lowering, “is because my teacher’s daughter was brutalized in Kingsley City.”
The old Marshal’s pupils shrank.
“She’s four years old,” Thomas Reed went on, his voice beginning to tremble despite his iron composure. “She was abducted, strapped to a freezing operating table, and drained bag after bag of blood. When they cut open her chest, they didn’t even administer anesthesia.”
A suffocating silence fell over the command hall.
“I’ve fought on the frontier for eight years,” Thomas Reed said hoarsely. “I’ve seen war criminals, mass murderers, monsters beyond imagination. But when I saw what the Nolan Family did… my hands wouldn’t stop shaking.”
His breathing grew uneven.
“This is the country I swore my life to protect. The nation I bled for. Did we fight and die just to shield monsters like them? Is this what all our sacrifices were for?”
His voice rose, sharp and unrestrained.
“No matter how you punish me afterward, I will seek justice for my teacher. And not just for him—for every civilian the Nolan Family has trampled over the years. This time, I will personally send the Nolan Family and the Hawthorne Family to hell!”
The line fell silent.
The old Marshal leaned back heavily in his chair, his chest tightening.
So it truly was because of Empyrean Summit.
In this world, there was only one force capable of shaking borders, summoning monsters from the shadows, and forcing kings, warlords, and magnates alike to abandon everything in fear.
Only Empyrean Summit.
As the old Marshal’s brows knit together, the doors to the command hall burst open.
A three-star general rushed in, his face pale, his steps hurried.
“Marshal! Emergency intelligence from Kingsley City!”
He strode forward and laid a thick stack of documents and photographs on the desk.
The old Marshal picked up the first photograph.
His breath caught in his throat.
A tiny girl lay bound to a steel operating table, restraints biting cruelly into her wrists and ankles. Surgical lights glared overhead. A man in a white coat leaned over her open chest, his gloved hands buried inside her body.
Nearby stood a man with a twisted, eager expression. Not far away, a young woman knelt on the floor, screaming until her voice broke.
The second photograph made the old Marshal’s vision blur.
A well-dressed little boy lay comfortably in a nurse’s arms, his clothes pristine. His eyes were cold, detached, calmly observing the scene—waiting patiently for the girl’s heart.
The third photograph showed the girl earlier still. Her arms were bruised and punctured, blood bags hanging beside her like grotesque ornaments.
There were more.
Many more.
Images of the girl and her mother being threatened, followed, humiliated. Surveillance logs documenting round-the-clock monitoring.
According to the report, Matthew Nolan had issued a standing order: if they attempted to flee Kingsley City, the child would be killed on the spot.
That threat had imprisoned them.
Boom!
The old Marshal slammed his palm down again, this time splintering the desk outright.
“So that’s why…” he roared, his eyes bloodshot. “That’s why Thomas Reed mobilized troops! Why tens of thousands from the Hall of Judgment are converging on our borders! Why the old monsters of Divine Herb Vale emerged from hiding!”
His voice cracked with fury.
“And why mercenary kings and foreign tyrants are racing toward the Solaria Republic like madmen!”
He drew in a sharp breath.
“Transmit my order. The three hundred thousand border troops—stand down. Open the routes.”
“Let them enter the Solaria Republic.”
“Let them go to Kingsley City… and demand justice for Empyrean Summit.”
By the time he finished speaking, tears streamed down his weathered face.
He had never imagined that such inhuman atrocities could occur within his nation’s borders.
The officers present felt their hearts sink.
Several generals dropped to one knee.
“Marshal, please reconsider!” one pleaded. “Once we let them in, the nation could fall into chaos! Marcus Hale of the Hall of Judgment alone carries thousands of lives on his hands! His subordinates are ruthless killers!”
“And the Poison King from Divine Herb Vale!” another added urgently. “Foreign mercenary armies! Once they enter, we may never be able to expel them!”
The old Marshal raised his hand.
“I trust Thomas Reed,” he said slowly. “And I trust Empyrean Summit. He will not allow his disciples to act recklessly.”
“As for the Nolan Family,” he continued, voice firm, “they deserve to die. Even if that child were an ordinary citizen’s daughter, no one has the right to t*****e her like that.”
He clenched his fist.
“We wear this uniform to protect the people. If we failed this time… then let Empyrean Summit resolve it himself.”
His eyes closed, tears escaping freely.
The room fell silent.
Yes.
Their uniforms existed to protect civilians.
Yet something unforgivable had happened in Kingsley City.
What right did they have to stop Dylan Brooks’s disciples from seeking justice?
“Go,” the old Marshal said at last. “Transmit the order. Any disciple of Empyrean Summit—do not block them. Let them pass unimpeded.”
This decision placed the fate of Kingsley City squarely into the hands of Dylan Brooks.
And his disciples… each one more terrifying than the last.
If they chose to turn against the Solaria Republic—
Who would bear that responsibility?
“Marshal… is this truly wise?” someone asked weakly.
“Unwise?” the old Marshal replied grimly. “If Empyrean Summit wanted to harm this nation, he wouldn’t need armies. His business disciples could strangle our economy overnight. His assassins from the Hall of Judgment could kill anyone, anywhere.”
“And his alchemists and poison masters from Divine Herb Vale—working together—who could stop them?”
His voice darkened further.
“And don’t forget—the hundred thousand Empyrean Summit disciples already inside our borders.”
No one answered.
Because everyone knew the truth.
If Dylan Brooks wanted to overturn the Solaria Republic, it would have happened long ago.
“And remember,” the old Marshal added, “our five-star war god, Thomas Reed, was trained by Empyrean Summit.”
“None of his disciples—inner or outer—have ever harmed national interests. When disasters strike, they are always the first to help.”
His resolve hardened.
“So this time, we won’t just let them pass—we’ll help them reclaim justice.”
He turned sharply.
“General Raymond Kane! Lead thirty thousand elite troops to Kingsley City immediately. Notify all local forces—do not interfere with any decision made by Empyrean Summit.”
“Tell Thomas Reed,” he finished, “that his senior brothers and sisters need not hold back any longer.”
“Tell them to reclaim justice for Dylan Brooks—without restraint.”
- Writer
