Nowaru

“Damn La-Ruan,” Welt Esford, Lutros, and Tantred walked through the long corridors of the Inner Council headquarters, formerly the king’s palace. “I never thought he would risk going against Ilinar.” Esford knew King Nosrenrot better than anyone, but even for him, this news was a big surprise. “It’s quite ironic, considering that his cousin was ready to take a similar path a decade ago, and it was he who prevented the war between Ilinar and Nosrenrot.” “That’s exactly why he did it, knowing that we wouldn’t expect him to stab us in the back, given our friendly relations and fruitful trade. But sooner or later, a conflict was bound to arise between our two countries, and La-Ruan decided to take advantage of this opportunity. Remember that, Minister.” “Mr. Esford, the Senate has not yet approved my candidacy for this position.” “Oh, don’t worry about that. They will definitely do it.” Lutros walked with them, but he didn’t speak; he was thinking about something else. Someone who had been lurking in the shadows all this time decided that this was the right moment to make himself known. Holding a particularly sharp dagger in his hand, the assassin, with lightning speed, rushed towards the Grand Master of Fire Magic, and in the next moment, turned to ashes. The sorcerer only had to point his hand at him. Esford and Tantred were somewhat taken aback by what had happened, but then the latter approached to examine the remains. “A Taoist,” he concluded, finishing his examination of the charred weapon and other surviving items. Lutros’s eyes widened. “It can’t be…” Then he rushed to the roof and looked into the distance. There, far in the north of Ilinar, signal fires were burning: the 22nd Legion, the “Northern Watch,” had engaged in battle with Taoist forces.