And so it was that the coming of the Demons cast a shadow upon the world, heralding an age of ruin and despair. Small kingdoms fell like leaves in a winter storm, while even the mightiest empires found themselves powerless to shield their lands from the encroaching darkness. The problem was that it was still unknown when the demons would appear.

  But there was one kingdom that had this knowledge. This kingdom was called Rhazgord. This kingdom had lived for centuries at the foot of Mount Rhaz. This mountain was located in the western part of the continent and was the highest mountain on the continent and was covered with red rocks. That is why it was also known as the Red Peak. Behind the mountain was an impassable mountain range. In short, the people of Rhazgord had built their country on the western border of the continent. What lay beyond the mountains was a mystery to everyone.

  To the outside world, the people of Rhazgord were savages—men of blood and iron, bound by lawless duels and the relentless call of war. This was because of the culture of the Rhazgord. The Rhazgord people were molded by the cruel rules of the wilderness. Power determined the most basic rights. Disputes were settled by dueling under the supervision of arbitrators, often resulting in death or loss of limbs. This bloody tradition formed the basis of the Rhazgords' sense of justice.

  As war was their very lifeblood, they sold their blades to the highest bidder, reveling in the slaughter that others feared. They also used their knowledge of where the demons would attack for this purpose. They traveled to the countries they knew would be attacked and made deals with them.

  All countries were secretly investigating how the Rhazgordians knew where the Demons would attack. But there was one king who openly asked the King of the Rhazgords - the Rhazgords called their king 'Sanguinar' - for the answer. Sanguinar sank his teeth into the roasted flesh, tearing a chunk free with a low growl. He did not so much as look at the foreign king as he spoke, his voice thick with disdain. “The gods speak to those who are worthy,” he said, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

  “And we alone have the strength to listen.”

  The king looked at Sanguinar, who continued to eat the roasted flesh in his hand in astonishment. He did not expect such a direct answer.

  The shamans of Rhazgord had the ability to learn the next target of the Demons through a mysterious ritual. But this ritual only worked when performed at the top of Mount Rhaz, closest point to the sky. The thin air at the top of the mountain and the proximity to the stars maximized the shamans' spiritual powers.

  Once again the shamans of Rhazgord had spoken to their gods and learned of the demons' next target. The next target was Rax, the former capital of the Adler Empire. The Empire was now a kingdom and a vassal state of the Sizat Empire.

  Sanguinar's eldest son Corvus Tiamat was among the mercenaries who set out to protect the Kingdom of Adler. He soon proved himself and became a 'Sharazir'. The word 'Sharazir' could be translated into other languages as 'commander' or 'leader', but there was no exact equivalent. With this title, Rhazgord warriors not only had the right to raise a troop under their command, but also to prove that they were among the best warriors in Rhazgord lands.

  When the Rhazgord mercenaries arrived in the city of Rax, chaos broke out in the city. The arrival of the Rhazgordians signaled the imminent arrival of the Demons. The Rhazgordians set up camp outside the city. They did not even think to ask permission from the city authorities. Soon the king of the city arrived at the Rhazgord camp. The king was a descendant of the former Adler Emperor Tiberius. The emperor and his entourage were dressed so extravagantly that those who didn't know would have thought the empire was still standing. King Justinianus inspected the camp before dismounting. He was surprised to see such unexpected discipline from the 'barbarians'. After dismounting, he entered the tent with a young man behind him and two bodyguards.

  The tent was simply furnished, with only a large table in the center and a few maps on it. The musty smell of canvas and leather filled the air inside the tent, in stark contrast to the perfumes and fragrances often found in the king's palace. The absence of other smells, such as food or incense, only added to the feeling of emptiness. The lack of furniture and the foul odor surprised and somewhat unsettled King Justinianus. His mouth was dry from the journey, but there was nothing to drink or eat in sight. He felt his tongue covered with dust and dirt.

  He could also see in the eyes of the ten warriors in the room that he was not respected. All ten of them were Sharazirs. Corvus was eighteen years old, but he was in the tent because he was the Sanguinar's son and a strong Sharazir.

  One of the commanders in the room stepped forward and said something in Rhazgord language and held out his hand. The king did not understand a word the big man said. Almost all the people on the continent spoke the same language, and this was one of the things the king was proud of - because it was the language of the Adler Empire. Different dialects of this language were spoken in certain parts of the continent, and different languages were spoken in some places, but everyone on the continent knew the Adler language. It was disgraceful that the man in front of him - a man who controlled thousands of soldiers - could not speak Adler.

  Corvus saw the king's surprised expression and stepped forward. “Our leader has difficulty speaking your language. But he does understand your language well.” he said, smiling slightly. Tilting his head slightly to the side, he added: “He greeted you.” His tone was confident, but it was clear that he only knew Adler language roughly. He had a thick accent and mispronounced many words. And he never used respect suffixes.

  King Justinianus began to speak with a proud attitude. “I am the great Justinianus, ruler of the Kingdom of Adler, descendant of Tiberius The Great!” he introduced himself, puffing out his chest. He placed his right hand on his son's shoulder and introduced him as heir to the throne: “Beside me stands my son and successor, Belisarius.” His voice carried the weight of his titles and demanded respect from all who would listen. Squinting, he added: “I have come here today to thank you for coming to my aid and to learn of your plans for the defense of our city.”

  Some of the warriors in the room laughed as the emperor spoke, and just as he said 'great Justinianus' , but the emperor managed to finish without breaking his silence. Young Corvus listened to what the big man next to him was saying. Then he turned back to Justinianus.

  “I am Corvus Tiamat, son of the great - he smiled as he said this - Sanguinar Sakhaar Tiamat and on of his Sharazirs. The man you see beside me is Valerius Tiamat. He is the leader of our army and the brother of our Sanguinar. Our leader is happy for your visit.”

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  Corvus had just finished when Valerius said something. Corvus immediately translated these words too.

  “But my uncle says the soldiers don't eat thanks.”

  Justinian couldn't understand most of the young man's words because of his heavy accent and awkward word choices. But the way Corvus pointed and rubbed his stomach made it clear what his requests were.

  “Of course we will not starve you, our friends who have come to support us. I assure you that all your needs will be met as soon as possible. And of course we will also pay you for your services.”

  Valerius interrupted impatiently, “Meat, lots of meat!” he thundered. His harsh voice filled the room. Despite his limited vocabulary in the Adler language, he made his demands very clear. The king approved Valerius' request with a nervous smile.

  Soon after, Valerius went to the head of the table and pulled one of the maps in front of him and began to explain it to Corvus. Corvus then took the map and pulled it in front of Justinianus and began to explain. The map was a very detailed map of the king's city. The map reminded him of the impending demon threat. That's why Justinianus was nervous.

  “They will come at us from all directions,” Corvus said, his thick accent making his words hard to understand. “We will defend south, east and west. Your walls are tall. Demons cannot climb them.” His keen eyes scanned the map in front of them and pointed with precision to each landmark.

  “The north is yours,” he continued, addressing the king directly. Despite his young age, he had the bearing of an experienced general. “The walls there are younger and stronger than the old ones in the south. It is easy to defend.The walls are long and thick.” Corvus' confidence was evident as he outlined his strategy. “When their numbers get small, we will open the main gate. They will try to get in. Then we will win.” The king could not hide his surprise at Corvus' last sentence. King Justinianus’ voice rang through the tent, his knuckles white as he clenched the hilt of his sword.

  “Madness! You would throw open the gates and welcome death itself? I will not sacrifice my city to your folly!”

  Corvus was annoyed by the king's anger, but he answered without flinching.

  “Yes, that is our goal. If we open the gate, the demons will head for it. The demons are big but stupid. If they all head for the gate at once, they will be stuck!” and he pointed to a spot outside the city. “We will hide a unit here.When the demons jam the gate, they will come from behind and we will have the demons flanked on both sides.We've done it before and we won.”

  The plan seemed simple, but the king had no choice but to trust the Rhazgordians. Corvus looked directly into the king's eyes. His gaze demanded trust. “Defending the gate will be simple,” Corvus said firmly. “Do not forget those hiding outside. They will attack the demons from behind while we destroy the demons in front of us.”

  Corvus' accent made it hard to understand, but after listening to the plan a few more times, the king understood it clearly. Justinianus only had to protect one front, which made his job easier. Besides, he knew that the Rhazgordians had fought the Demons before and won every time.

  What bothered the king was that the map was too detailed. The 'Barbarians' had made a very good map of his city in a very short time and knew all its weak points. That the barbarians had learned so much in such a short time was both unexpected and terrifying.

  “The demons are ours.”

  Corvus' voice interrupted the king's thoughts. He did not understand what he meant.

  “I mean... I mean... The dead demons are ours.”

  This news did not sit well with the king. Corvus' demand for the demon corpses meant that he wanted to obtain the precious Lightstones contained in their bodies. This meant that the kingdom would lose a strategic resource. The king tried to negotiate, but Corvus insisted on the demon corpses. Otherwise, he said, they would leave. The king had to accept this offer. His army was small and it was as uncertain when support from the Sizat Empire would arrive as when the demons would arrive. The king left a few of his soldiers there to learn the details of the defense plan and then left the tent with his son to return to his city. He was about to mount his horse when he heard Corvus' voice.

  “There is something I forgot to tell you,” he said. Justinianus turned to Corvus curiously. Corvus stood beside the king and continued, “Let our soldiers enter the city. They will cause no trouble and if they do we will punish them.” It was a troubling request for Justinianus. The Rhazgordians were known as barbarians and could cause trouble in the city. But they could also be beneficial to the city's economy. Corvus also seemed eager to enter the city. Even if it was dangerous, opening the city gates to the Rhazgordians could benefit the kingdom.

  After some thought, the king accepted the offer. He turned to his son standing beside him. Although he was the same age as Corvus, he looked much younger than Corvus.

  “Belisarius, Corvus is no mere guest—he is the son of a king, and the leader of warriors. See to it that he understands what true power is—not just the sword, but the law, the mind, and the will of a ruler.” He turned back to Corvus, his gaze sharp. “You have conquered battlefields, but tell me—have you ever conquered a people without spilling blood? That is the true test of a king.”

  Corvus did not understand some of the words that were spoken quickly, but he was intrigued by the king's demeanor and the words he understood. He only responded to the part that he could understand.

  “I am not a king.”

  Justinianus responded with a smile. He left Belisarius behind to show Corvus around the city and then set off for his city.

  Corvus and Belisarius entered the city a few hours later. At first Corvus saw the inhabitants of this city as weak. Not only had they lost their empire, but they had come under the rule of another empire. However, the architecture and layout of the city made Corvus question these thoughts.

  Corvus had always believed that strength ruled the world. But as he walked through the stone-paved streets of Rax, he found himself questioning that truth. The city was built not by warriors, but by scholars, artisans, and builders. Its power did not lie in the strength of its swords, but in the stability of its walls, the discipline of its laws. Civilization—it was not weakness, as he had once believed. It was a different kind of strength.

  While his own people lived in a disorganized city of makeshift houses, this powerless country resembled a work of art. Young Corvus spent late hours exploring the city. Belisarius showed his new friend the most beautiful corners of the city. Over time, Corvus' interest in the city grew. He was especially interested in the city's infrastructure and laws. He no longer toured the city with Belisarius, but instead tried to learn how it worked.

  One evening, as they sat atop the palace walls, overlooking the city, Belisarius broke the silence.

  “You think we’re weak, don’t you?”

  Corvus smirked, tearing into the roasted meat in his hand.

  “I think you don’t know how to fight. That's why you belong to the Sizatians.”

  Belisarius chuckled, shaking his head. “And yet, we built this.” He gestured toward the vast city below them, its streets illuminated by lantern light.

  “Tell me, Corvus, can Rhazgord build something like this?”

  Corvus had no answer.

  Corvus had always believed that strength ruled the world. Strength, and nothing else. But here in Rax, the walls did not crumble simply because no one was strong enough to break them. The people obeyed their king, not because they feared him, but because they believed in his laws. It was strange. Unnatural. And yet, a small part of him wondered—was this, too, a form of power?

  As the days passed, the city of Rax grew restless. Rumors spread like wildfire—whispers of shadowed figures seen in the distance, of strange chittering sounds in the dead of night. The very air seemed heavier, charged with unseen dread. And then, on the eve of the third week, the ground trembled.