Standing in the battle room of the palace of Cirin, the Capital city of the kingdom of Camlen, Spirit Lady Helera watched as a group of powerful influential Wielders gathered to discuss war plans.

  Standing slightly to the back of her queen, she reminisced back to the days when she was still just a simple Monarch wielder, an important one, but still just a Monarch wielder who saw spirit lords as myths, people to be viewed from a distance.

  It wasn't that they were overly rare or something. Spirit lords were far more than a dozen on the planet. But aside from her former liege, it was hard to ever encounter one. Now she was in the same room with almost a dozen of them, and almost half of them her equal in strength.

  She had been an ordinary Monarch serving under the kingdom of Camlen. Just one dime a dozen, nothing special. Her luck came when she partook in a very intense borderland clash against some of the Solarian Empire soldiers. A battle founded on a chance encounter and a large bit of pride and arrogance. It had enabled her to rise past the ordinaries of the power hierarchy and into the elite ranks of the Spirit lords.

  Post-ascension, she had been brought to her previous liege then, getting the honor to see and speak to her sovereign. He had asked her a lot of things, from her pasts to how she saw her future, but eventually, she was let go. When she'd left the throne room that day, it was with an elevated position as one of her liege's personal aides—his bodyguard.

  She had worked together with her liege since then, fending off the empire pillars with their combined strengths. But eventually, like everything, their luck had run out. Having been caught in the empire's trap, they had fought the combined attack of five spirit lords—a futile endeavor. Eventually, it dawned on them that their deaths could not be avoided.

  Her liege had then done something that had saved her life. Breaking one of his treasures, space was destabilized for a moment, and at that single instant, her liege had pushed her in through the newly created portal. "There's not enough time for the two of us to flee, so I'm trusting you to do good by me, and with my child's life. She will be returning to take the throne now that I'm gone. Guide and protect her with your life." Those words were the last she ever heard from her liege.

  Now, many years later, Helera watched as the young woman of those years sat on her throne and listened as the other Kingdom rulers and equally important essence wielders discussed.

  Queen Fenore was an extremely beautiful woman with long raven dark hair that fell smoothly straight down to the waist. She wore a dark green dress matching her already emerald eyes, with black painted lips also matching her hair. Her impressive toned body and slim stature—never mind the height, made her into the very visage of a warrior queen.

  "I've already set Monarch-level scouts to monitor our border. If anything suspicious happens, we'll know," she said, voice calm, as a warrior queen should be. Her eyes panned the entire room impassively.

  "I'm not worried about what they'll set their dregs to do, but on what they'll choose to do themselves. You don't take from the empire and expect to be let go. The emperor wants blood and he's going to come for it," Danor said.

  Swordlord Danor was a man of slim stature with black hair resting on a sharp face. It didn't help with his piercing lightning-blue eyes, which were kind of unnerving. Looking at him now, he looked nothing like his status, wearing a simple cotton shirt and pants with a brown coat worn over it all, and the silver hilt of a sword peeking out of it.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  The title of 'Sword lord' was only worn by high-level individuals on the paths of the sword. True blade-masters. Ordinary blade-wielders were numerous, as it wasn't hard to find essence-wielders who used swords as their main weapons. Swordlords were in a different category all on their own, being very few and who were all high in the hierarchy of power.

  "Why do you sound so afraid DanDan? Aren't you supposed to be some fancy sword wielder? I thought y'all fancy sword people weren't supposed to be afraid," King Brunos voice boomed, his massive chest rising in laughter.

  King Brunos of Gandor, Protector of the Gandoran people. He was a massive man, rising as tall as seven feet, with a large beard almost as long and his hair reaching past shoulder length, he looked almost barbarian at first sight, contrasting his royal status. It was a good thing he usually wore a silver circlet on his head.

  The Gandoran people were mostly known for their flaming red hairs and eyes. As a Spirit lord, King Brunos accentuated this more with his hair that went deeper into the red color, almost bordering on bloody crimson. A huge maul heavy enough to crack the enforced concrete ground hung on his waist like some weightless ornament, with a massive tower shield equally as tall as he was resting on the side of his chair.

  They all came with their aides, all Spirit lords as well. Two massive men with red hair, though not as large as Brunos, stood behind him, while a short woman also wielded a sword stood behind Danor.

  "Don't call me that, I don't like it. And I'm not afraid, just cautious, as you all should be. The empire isn't some backward kingdom that we can just take for granted. They are vengeful and will come in force. You know what that should mean."

  Nobody laughed after that. For all of the empire's faults, there was one thing everyone couldn't deny they lacked: Power. There was a reason that despite their conquering habits, nobody had ever been able to defeat them. A few had tried, but they were all either in the grave, their kingdoms taken, or were in hiding, having run away.

  "Enough," a voice said, quietly carrying across the room and instantly attracting their focused attention.

  Looking at the last group in attendance, Helera felt a chill run down her spine as she looked into those cold grey eyes. Aside from the emperor, nobody had ever brought fear into her eyes ever since she stepped into the realm of spirit lords. Until she'd met him. He was a reclusive—hardly ever seen — even amongst spirit lords. Any Spirit lord worth his power knew about him. The youngest and single most powerful Spirit lord to ever walk the planet in known history. His young face was just like every other Spirit lord, with advancing power already halting the effects of aging. But all knew this young man wasn't even past his twenties, going by the lack of ancientness every other Spirit lord had in their eyes. But there was one thing Helera was sure all the other Spirit lords in this room felt: Fear, even though they all had at one point knelt and professed loyalty to him, taking the status as his emissaries.

  Lord Damien was accompanied by his brother, Keilan. With an almost golden blonde hair and ocean blue eyes, it was obvious that there wasn't any familiar resemblance there, but nobody had ever had the gall to ask for details. As far as anyone knew, they had appeared together and were always seen together.

  None had ever sparred nor seen lord Damien fight before, but what they felt from his aura told them where they all stood compared to him. The only man to have ever clashed with Emperor Solaris and come out alive, and that was years ago, how much more powerful had he grown after all those years?

  Looking and meeting the eyes of everyone present there, he said, "Danor is right that you should be wary of the empire, afraid even. But that is if you wish to fight them alone. But you won't be fighting alone, are you?” he gave a small smile, shocking everyone with what he said next. "Which is why I will be fighting with you. I've been gone too long and it is time I flex a little bit of power."