ARCADES

Before Kalamari and Tozi had even stepped foot out of the Whoops Kingdom, word had already traveled like wildfire across distant lands. Whispers, carried on wings of fear and curiosity, had reached the ears of Lord Veth himself.

In the heart of the King's Kingdom, high within the obsidian halls of the Council Chamber, the great circle of masters and counselors convened. A quiet storm brewed in their midst. The council, adorned in layered robes of power and pride, sat murmuring among themselves, their voices laced with anxiety.

"An A-rank Arcadian?" one of them whispered, disbelief curdling his voice.

"Where did he come from?" another added.

"Who is he?" asked a third.

"I heard he brought eight of Whoops Kingdom's warriors to their knees. On his own," someone said, the tremor in their voice betraying their fear.

"Is he truly an Arcadian? Or something worse?" murmured another.

The hum of concern grew louder, wrapping the room in an uneasy fog. Eyes turned, one by one, toward the seat at the head of the chamber. Veth sat there, silent and unmoved, his fingers steepled before him, his dark cloak heavy with the air of command.

"Why is Lord Veth not saying anything?"

"We must act."

"He's searching for others," said a gruff-voiced master, slamming a fist into his palm. "Other Arcadians. This isn't just some rogue warrior. He's building something."

Still, Veth said nothing. His mind had drifted far from the room.

What is his name?

That question echoed in Veth's mind, louder than the others.

At once, memories surged forward, unbidden and burning.

He saw Master Olark — proud, ancient, powerful — staring at him with disbelief and betrayal. Veth remembered the power flame in his own hand, how it had sunk his hands deep into Olark's chest, ending the last of the elder council. He saw the look in Olark's eyes as life fled from them.

Another memory pulled itself to the front.

A fight — a brutal, fiery battle with Whuji, the top apprentice of the Arcadian Order. Whuji had fought with honor, desperation, and fury. But even he had fallen.

Veth can't forget that battle.

Then… the boy.

A child. Small. Eyes glowing an unnatural yellow. The boy had struck Veth — really hard, very damaging, with flaming aura and very much enough to leave an impression.

Then he had to run as his Master ordered "run Kalamari. Run!!!."

Veth had sent his warriors after the child. Hours passed. They returned with blood on their weapons and emptiness in their eyes.

"He's dead," they had said knowing fully well they didn't kill him he fell off a cliff and they had to assume he was dead.

But something in Veth's heart had disagreed — fiercely.

And now, years later, an A-rank Arcadian had emerged from obscurity.

Still alive.

Still searching.

Still dangerous.

The murmurs around Veth seemed to fade, their words blurred in his storm of thoughts — until again he heard it:

"What is his name?"

Veth's eyes flared.

A thunderous voice cracked through the chamber.

"Enough!!!!"

Silence crashed down like a falling hammer.

The room froze. Even the fire in the sconces seemed to shrink back from the fury in his tone.

Veth stood slowly, his dark armor clinking softly beneath his cloak. His gaze swept across the room, his eyes landing on each master one by one.

"You forget who you are," he said, his voice like a blade wrapped in velvet. "You are the most feared and respected masters in all the kingdoms. And yet here you sit, trembling over a child."

Some glanced at each other, ashamed. Others held his gaze, defiant.

"Yes, he is A-rank," Veth continued. "But that alone does not make him your equal. Not you, Xuero. Not you, Tangi. Not any of you."

Xuero and Tangi, two of the fiercest warriors in the room, lowered their heads in respect.

"We all know why he seeks the others," Veth said, pacing now. "He wants to rebuild the Arcadian Order. Reignite what we destroyed."

There were nods, grim and slow.

"For twelve years we have wondered why the soul of the Overlord — that ancient force — has not yet returned to the King's Kingdom. And now we have our answer."

He paused.

"There are still Arcadians out there. And one of them carries the Overlord's power."

Silence. All eyes locked on him now.

"If this A-rank Arcadian finds them… if he gathers them, and they stand united…"

He let the thought hang.

"They could bring the Overlord back. And they would not bring him back as a god to serve us. No… he would serve them."

The weight of the revelation settled heavily over the chamber.

Veth's voice dropped to a whisper, more dangerous than any scream.

"I have waited for this moment. And now… the time has come."

A master stood, face flushed with barely contained rage.

"What's the plan, my Lord?" he growled.

Veth turned toward him, eyes narrowed, lips curling into a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"We follow him," Veth said. "We follow him as he searches for his kin."

A murmur rose, quickly silenced by his lifted hand.

"We make sure they never settle, never rest. Let him gather the Arcadians. Let him bring them together. Let him believe."

His voice hardened.

"When they are whole… when they think they've found hope… we strike."

He turned now, facing them all.

"When every kingdom has been searched, and they circle back to the last, thinking they've escaped our gaze… we'll be waiting."

The room felt suddenly colder.

"You all wanted action. Here it is," Veth said.

He turned, slowly walking back to his throne.

"In every kingdom we pass, we leave a message behind. Written in blood. So they know…"

He looked over his shoulder, the smile on his face pure venom.

"…that we were there."

A chill ran through the chamber.

Then, as one, the masters began to smile — slow, cruel, eager.

Xuero cracked his knuckles. Tangi unsheathed his blade halfway, letting it sing before sliding it back.

They looked at one another, their eyes glinting with savage delight.

The hunt had begun.

And the world would tremble.

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