The Hero Who Wasn't:Lord of Kingdoms

At Dawn: The Real Work Begins

As the first threads of dawn broke over Arcadia, before the city fully woke, two shadows stood at the eastern gate—Valerius, dressed in simple battle attire with his sword strapped to his back, and Kalia, in her flowing crimson cloak, her fiery hair flickering like a flame in the pale morning light.

There were no goodbyes, no complicated plans. Valerius looked at his wife and gave her a faint smile. Then, with a smooth, powerful motion, he bent down and lifted her into his arms—like a prince carrying his princess.

"Are you ready, my love?"

"Born ready," Kalia replied, wrapping her arms around his neck.

In the next instant, they vanished.

Valerius didn't run—he unleashed his Agile Body skill to its fullest. He became a silver wraith, a ground-bound shooting star tearing through the forest at a speed the naked eye could not track. The trees turned to blurred streaks of green and brown as he leapt from branch to branch, covering hundreds of meters in seconds, his body moving with a lightness that defied the raw power within him.

In less than an hour, they reached the mountain range that had taken Arion's party a full day to cross. Valerius paused at the base of a sheer cliff.

"My turn," Kalia whispered in his ear.

She lifted her hand gracefully. From nothing, steps of frozen, transparent air formed—a crystalline staircase climbing all the way to the top of the cliff.

Valerius climbed the airy steps as if strolling through his palace garden, still carrying his wife effortlessly. Within minutes, they had crossed the entire mountain range and reached the forest beyond.

---

A Song's Death… A Silent Massacre

They entered the forest adventurers called the "Forest of Illusions." As they advanced, they heard a sound—sad and beautiful. On a nearby hill, the Moon-Winged Griffin still rested, its broken wing slowly healing.

When the griffin sensed the approaching presence, it didn't feel the same calm it had with Arion. Instead, it felt absolute existential danger. It stood on its legs, fluffed its feathers, and let out a terrifying warning cry. It sensed two beings at the very top of the food chain.

Valerius looked at the majestic creature coldly. He didn't stop. He didn't change his path. All he did was direct a fraction of his concentrated combat aura at it.

No sword, no spell—just pure pressure.

The griffin froze. Its eyes widened in shock, then—

Boom!

Its heart exploded in its chest. Its beautiful body collapsed to the ground like a puppet with cut strings—motionless. Dead instantly.

"What a pity," Kalia said softly. "It was a beautiful creature."

"It was in our way," Valerius answered simply, continuing forward.

Now, the forest itself seemed to sense the danger. Beasts emerged from their dens, drawn to this overwhelming energy—or perhaps driven by an instinct to defend their domain.

But they faced Kalia.

She didn't even lift a hand. She kept holding onto her husband, her eyes half closed. But the air around them began to tear. A dome of razor-sharp wind formed around them—stretching a hundred meters in every direction.

A pack of Shadow Wolves emerged from the trees. Before they could howl, they were sliced into thin strips.

A giant serpent dropped from a tree. It was reduced to scraps of scales and skin before it touched the ground.

Even the poor birds soaring overhead—once they entered the hundred-meter radius, they fell like rain—feathers and blood showering the earth.

It was a silent massacre—efficient, terrifying. It took no effort from her at all. It wasn't a mana-draining spell—it was more like a constant defensive aura, a simple declaration to the world: "Do not come close."

---

Less Than a Quarter Day

Their journey continued through lands that would have meant suicide for even the strongest parties. They crossed swamps, ravines, and forests as if strolling through their own garden.

Finally—after a journey so absurdly short it felt almost mocking—they arrived.

Before them lay the collapsed entrance of the mine. A massive heap of rock and dust sealed the ancient gateway completely. The scent of death and despair still clung to the air.

Valerius gently set his wife down. He stood tall and looked up at the sun, which had begun to climb in the sky. He showed no sign of fatigue—there wasn't a single bead of sweat on his brow.

"Less than a quarter day, right?" he said calmly, as if commenting on a short walk.

They had set out at dawn—and arrived before noon. They had crossed a distance that would take others days, in mere hours, obliterating everything in their path without so much as a flinch.

Now—the real work would begin.