In Marudeva's home, located just outside the bustling Dweller city, a vibrant scene unfolds in the backyard. Adorned with colorful birthday decorations, it is a place of joy and celebration, brimming with anticipation for Agneyastra's 21st birthday. Emathion and Moriko, are diligently assisting Sinai in setting up a sumptuous spread of food on the table. Under the watchful eyes of Yeongi. “Place them in a perfect row, ensuring each dish stands tall on the table,” Yeongi instructed.

  Marudeva stands nearby, observing the lively conversation between Yeongi and the helpers. His attention briefly shifts to Tyson, who sips from a glass by his side. A wave of nostalgia washes over Marudeva as he looks at Moriko and then glances up at Agneyastra's bedroom window. Through the glass, he can see his daughter, a delicate figure consumed by a sense of melancholy, watching the preparations unfold.

  “Tyson,” Marudeva remarks with a hint of wistfulness in his voice, “your girls have grown up so fast.”

  Standing alongside Marudeva, Tyson, glanced at Emathion and Sinai. His chest swelled with pride as he spoke, his voice filled with emotion. “I am very proud of my girls,” he said, a hint of pride in his voice. He then turned his attention to Marudeva and inquired about the growing up of his children. “Your children are growing up so fast,” Tyson observed. “When do you think Emathion will be ready to marry Moriko?”

  Marudeva, a wise and thoughtful parent, replied with a smile. “Emathion has come a long way, but the timing of marriage rests in their hands. It is ultimately their decision. What about Agneyastra?”

  Tyson, ever aware of the pressing need for soldiers in the impending war, shared his intentions. “I have extended an invitation to Prince Enlil from the Wind Kingdom. With his wife tragically passing away last year, he is seeking a new partner. We are in dire need of more soldiers for the war.”

  Marudeva looked concerned, his brows furrowing. “Rumors whisper of a dark past, suggesting Prince Enlil's late wife chose to end her own life in order to escape him. Can we trust him?”

  Tyson dismissed the rumors with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Such tales are mere speculation. Besides, their meeting is just introductory. King Anori has only recently ascended the throne, and it is vital for us to have the Wind Kingdom on our side. If they align with the Water Kingdom, our chances of success in this war will be greatly diminished.”

  Marudeva nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. Concern etched across his face as he spoke. “Agneyastra seems to be hiding her true feelings, but I know deep down she is still not over Jeremy. His absence affected her more deeply than Marius.”

  As Ramil entered the backyard, filled with a vibrant array of guests, he surveyed the scene with a gift box securely nestled in his hand. With purposeful strides, he made his way towards the grand table adorned with an assortment of beautifully wrapped presents.

  Spotting Tyson and his father Marudeva nearby, Ramil approached them, the anticipation evident in his gaze. Marudeva voiced his surprise, “I didn't think you were coming.”

  Baffled by the remark, Ramil inquired, “It's Agney's birthday, I would never miss it. Why would you say that?”

  Marudeva's response was tinged with a hint of concern, “The letters went out yesterday about the General position.”

  Just as the words hung in the air, captivating everyone's attention, Agneyastra strode into the backyard. She gracefully positioned himself amidst the company of Moriko, Emathion, Sinai, and Yeongi. Marudeva stands before Ramil. “Agneyastra,” he murmured, the word rolling off his tongue like a whispered incantation. He paused, as if the weight of his revelation settled upon his shoulders. “She has been named the New General.”

  Ramil's eyes darted from Agneyastra to his father and Tyson, the shock etched across his face morphing into anger. In a seething tone, he blurted out, “What? She is not even a Dweller. How dare…”

  Cutting him off, Agneyastra's voice boomed with a mix of determination and pent-up frustration, “How dare I what? Train diligently, honing my skills alongside the Warriors every single day? You encouraged me to join, but now it seems as though my progress has surpassed your expectations. I was meant to be good, but not so good that I overshadow your own abilities.”

  Ramil stood there, on the edge of his emotions, his words poised on his lips. Before he could speak, Marudeva cut through the silence, his voice tinged with a mix of disappointment and concern. “I think you should go, before you ruin another one of Agneyastra's birthdays.”

  Ramil turned to leave, feeling the weight of his actions bearing down on him. But the scene took an unexpected turn as Aurgelmir, accompanied by a group of formidable warriors, emerged from the shadows. Their presence was commanding, their determination evident in their every step. And amidst them stood Prince Enlil, a figure of enchanting beauty with his pale bluish skin and flowing locks of white and lavender.

  Ramil looked up at Enlil, a bitter storm brewing within him. In a moment of raw honesty, he let his words cut through the air, dripping with sarcasm and anguish. “Great, marry her off to a prince who has caused his previous wives to meet tragic ends. I eagerly await the wedding invitation.” The venom in his tone was palpable as he stormed away.

  As the echoes of Ramil's departure filled the space, Agneyastra, the center of attention, stood there, a mix of emotions playing across her face. With tears welling up in her eyes, she found solace in the presence of her friends and family. Gathering herself, she mustered a grateful whisper, her voice betraying the hurt that lingered beneath. “Thank you all for coming.”

  Heart heavy with sorrow, she sought refuge in the confines of her bedroom. As Agneyastra curled up on her bed, tears streaming down her face, a soft knock echoed through the door of her bedroom. With a sigh, she uttered, “I am done for the day.”

  Intruding upon her despair, Moriko glided into the room, gracefully making her way to the edge of the bed where Agneyastra sat. Gently, she placed herself beside her dejected friend, offering solace in her presence. “Don’t let Ramil ruin your birthday again,” Moriko advised, her voice filled with empathy. “The best revenge is moving on and acting like you don’t care about them.”

  Blinking away her tears, Agneyastra sat up, her trembling hand wiping away the remnants of her heartache. With a hint of sadness in her voice, she replied, “Like you are doing with Emathion.”

  Moriko, always adept at lighthearted bantering, quipped, “We are talking about you, not me.” A glimmer of laughter broke through Agneyastra's sorrow as they shared a brief moment of respite.

  Suddenly, Moriko's tone shifted, excitement bubbling in her voice. “Look, there she is!” she exclaimed, surprising Agneyastra. “Your Uncle has gifted you a Prince for your birthday. Let's go have fun and make him regret that decision.”

  Moriko's energetic spirit radiated as she tugged Agneyastra to her feet, their hands intertwined in a gesture of friendship and support. Overwhelmed with gratitude, Agneyastra whispered, “You are one of my best friends.” Together, they descended the stairs, stepping into the vibrant backyard where the party was in full swing.

  ***

  Morning dawned, casting its golden rays upon the hot desert, intensifying the heat that suffused the air. Ramil stood tall, his gaze unwavering, as he lined up the other Dweller Warriors in perfect formation. Alongside him, atop her majestic horse, Agneyastra emanated an aura of silent determination.

  Beside them, Aurgelmir, the seasoned leader of the warriors, spoke with a tone filled with firm resolve, “Hold steady, Warriors. The Demon horde grows stronger, emerging with increasing haste, ready to engage us in battle.”

  Addressing the assembled army, Agneyastra's voice rang out, defying the scorching wind that whipped across the desert. “Remember,” she urged, her words resonating with conviction, “the thinning of the demon horde is evidence of our relentless efforts. We shall triumph by focusing on dismantling their unholy host.”

  Ramil's eyes rolled with a hint of disdain. He couldn't help but voice his skepticism, his disbelief. “Why don't you utilize your formidable Fire power to engulf them all in glorious flames?”

  Before Agneyastra could respond, Aurgelmir rode forth on his mighty steed, asserting his authority. His voice boomed across the desert plains, commanding respect, “If the path of the warrior no longer aligns with your desires, Ramil, then perhaps it is time for you to seek solace in a different line of work. Quit, and return to the comforts of home.”

  Ramil and the Dweller Warriors stood firm, ready for the impending battle. The air crackled with tension as Ramil's clenched jaw betrayed his silent determination, his eyes narrowing with a mixture of determination and unease as his gaze locked onto Agneyastra, his fellow warrior.

  The demons, accompanied by the soldiers of the Water Kingdom, charged forth with a ferocious intensity. Ramil tightened his grip on the reins of his horse, urging it forward with a swift flick of his wrist. Without uttering a single word, he galloped past Agneyastra, his sword gleaming in the sunlight as it was brandished in readiness.

  In the blink of an eye, Ramil found himself amidst the chaos, his blade dancing through the air like a flurry of deadly petals. Wielding his weapon with grace and precision, he fought valiantly against both demons and soldiers, his every movement a testament to his courage and skill.

  Amidst the chaos of battle, his gaze shifted momentarily to Evain. With a bittersweet smile, she blew a kiss to him, her figure growing smaller as she rode away from the carnage. As his attention returned to the fray, Ramil's breath caught in his throat, his heart skipping a beat. He could hardly believe his eyes as he beheld the alarming sight of Agneyastra, encircled by a swarm of demons, their malevolence directed solely at her. It was as if they recognized her as a formidable foe.

  With a surge of determination coursing through his veins, Ramil propelled himself towards Agneyastra, his sword slicing through the air as he carved a path towards her. But as he moved to strike the largest and most imposing demon, a creature adorned in shimmering gold, it seemed to vanish before his very eyes, leaving him swinging his sword amidst empty air.

  As Ramil fought with all his might, he couldn't help but notice Agneyastra skillfully wielding her sword, effortlessly cutting down her enemies with precision and grace. Suddenly, Ramil's attention shifted as he caught a glimpse of Evain, observing the scene from her horse. She seemed deep in thought, analyzing the situation with a determined gaze. Ramil urged his horse to a halt beside her, stirring up a cloud of sand in the process. The Dweller Warriors guarded the area they desired to go.

  His voice laced with a mixture of curiosity and urgency, Ramil questioned, “Now, what do you have in mind, Evain?”

  Evain's eyes flickered with a hint of mischief as she replied, her tone filled with quiet confidence, “Wait here. I have an idea.”

  Ramil watched her with cautious anticipation, acutely aware of the risks of placing his trust in her, even in this dire battle. Time seemed to stretch as he surveyed the surroundings, his horse fidgeting restlessly beneath him.

  Moments later, Evain returned, a sack clutched tightly in her hands. Ramil's curiosity peaked as she revealed its contents - Water Kingdom armor. A glimmer of uncertainty crossed his eyes; wearing the enemy's armor was a dangerous gambit, but Evain's unwavering determination compelled him to take the risk.

  Jumping off his horse, Ramil discarded his own Dweller armor and carefully placed it in the sack provided by Evain. With practiced precision, he adorned himself in the foreign attire of his adversaries. As he mounted his horse again, his voice filled with a mix of caution and resolve, he muttered, “I can’t believe this.”

  Evain, with a determined gleam in her eyes, extended her hand towards Ramil, beckoning him to join her on her horse. “Jump onto my horse,” she commanded, her voice full of urgency and purpose.

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  Responding to her call, Ramil propelled himself onto the back of the horse, his heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. Without wasting a moment, Evain spurred the horse forward, their bodies riding the wind as they embarked on a daring quest towards the fabled Water Kingdom.

  As they galloped towards the grand Water Kingdom Palace, their surroundings gradually transitioning from scorching desert to lush greenery, Ramil voiced his doubts. “This better be worth it,” he murmured, his voice laced with skepticism.

  Confidence radiated from Evain's every word as she replied, “If it wasn't worth it, I wouldn't have pushed this far.” With renewed determination, delving into the heart of the Water Kingdom.

  Upon entering the palace, Evain swiftly guided Ramil through labyrinthine corridors and opulent halls, navigating through the maze with ease born of familiarity. Finally, they arrived at Evain's private quarters, a grand bedroom adorned with exquisite tapestries and intricately carved furniture.

  Ramil's eyes widened in awe as he took in the resplendent surroundings. “This is your room?” he questioned.

  Evain's lips curved into a mischievous smile as she closed the distance between them, her gaze sparkling with excitement. “Yes,” she whispered, her voice carrying a hint of secrecy. Drawing him closer, she planted a tender, lingering kiss on his lips, igniting a fervent passion between them. As their bodies swayed in tempo, whispers of desire intertwined with the rustling of fabric, revealing hidden layers of armor and clothing, symbols of their shared warrior spirit

  Aware of the possibility of intrusion, Ramil's eyes darted around the room, his voice breaking the hushed atmosphere. “Are you sure no one will come in here?” he asked, a flicker of concern flashing across his captivating eyes.

  Evain reclined on her bed, the softness of the mattress cradling her tired body. Her bedroom, adorned with elegant tapestries and ornate furniture, exuded an air of luxury and mystery. Ramil stood before her, his eyes fixed on her with an intensity that matched the flickering candlelight.

  “My father, rarely emerges from his secret study these days,” Evain confessed, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness. “And my brothers, they are too consumed by their own concerns to notice anything else. Thankfully, the gold demon will be occupied in battle for the next couple of hours. Thus, we have this precious time to ourselves.” A playful smirk danced on her lips as she gently teased him. “Unless, of course, you find yourself scared to continue.”

  Ramil's laughter filled the room, a warm and rich sound that echoed off the walls. “I am not scared,” he declared boldly, his eyes twinkling with anticipation.

  Drawing Ramil closer, Evain's fingers tangled in his hair, a wave of electricity passing between them. Their faces mere inches apart, she spoke in a hushed voice, her breath grazing his ear. “Then, let us proceed with our clandestine plans.” As if being drawn by an invisible force, Ramil surrendered to the pull and pressed his lips against hers.

  ***

  As Moriko, Yeongi, and Tyson ventured through the lush green forest under the midday sun, a heavy feeling settled upon Moriko's heart. She couldn't help but voice her frustrations, “Hate when you both, leave. It feels like alone forever.”

  Moved by her words, Yeongi enveloped Moriko in a comforting embrace and reassured her, “Fear not, dear Moriko. We will only be gone for a couple of weeks. There is much that needs attending to in the Fire Kingdom.”

  Tyson, ever the straightforward one, chimed in, “Perhaps, Moriko, you wouldn't feel so alone if you hadn't banished Emathion.”

  A mixture of sadness and regret washed over Moriko's face as she averted her gaze, her voice tinged with vulnerability, “You must understand that banishing Emathion was necessary, but it doesn't ease the ache within my soul. Part of me doesn’t want to inflict more pain upon him, but deep down, I know that it won't alleviate the loneliness I feel.”

  Tyson pauses for a moment and faces Moriko. Tyson says, “what happened to Emathion is not your fault. Emathion has progressed a lot I just think you should consider spending more time with him.”

  “I will think about it,” Moriko muses aloud, her voice carrying like a delicate chime in the tranquil forest. She tenderly embraces Tyson, their connection brimming with a deep-rooted bond akin to that of a parent and child. “I can't wait to see you both again,” she adds, her words filled with anticipation and longing.

  Together, the trio reaches a towering tree, its bark gnarled and weathered. Yeongi reverently places his hand upon its rough surface, and in that instant, a swirl of emerald light materializes, forming a mystical portal. One by one, Yeongi and Tyson step through the portal, their silhouettes fading into the ethereal glow as they embark on their journey back to the fiery depths of the Kingdom.

  With a melancholic sigh, Moriko watches as the portal closes, returning the forest to its serene stillness. Turning her attention to the task at hand, she resumes her daily ritual of healing the ailing trees. But as Moriko approaches the next afflicted tree, her eyes narrow in confusion. The signs of decay and rot linger, though their origin remains an enigma. Undeterred by the mystery, Moriko extends her hands, channels her magic, and begins the delicate work of restoring life to the tree's weary branches.

  Lost in a world of nature's intricate beauty, Moriko is startled by an unexpected encounter. From the corner of her eye, she catches sight of a Brucie, a creature native to the forest. But this one, unlike the others, brushes past her callously, barely acknowledging her presence. Bewilderment tugs at her thoughts, as she wonders what could have disrupted the creature's normally gentle demeanor. Gazing after the retreating Brucie, Moriko's determination intensifies. She cannot shake the feeling that something is amiss in the Grand Forest, again.

  As Moriko wandered through the verdant forest, a sense of tranquility enveloped her. The sun filtered through the canopy above, casting dappled shadows upon the forest floor. The air was filled with the soft whispers of leaves rustling in the gentle breeze, creating a symphony of natural sounds.

  But amidst the idyllic scene, Moriko's attention was drawn to a peculiar sight. Another Brucie, caught her eye. Its movements were sluggish and its eyes devoid of their usual sparkle. Concern mingled with curiosity, prompting Moriko to follow the Brucie's trail.

  With measured steps, Moriko trailed behind the Brucie, her heart heavy with worry. She approached the creature cautiously, mindful of its distant demeanor. “Are you okay?” she asked, her voice laced with genuine concern.

  However, the Brucie remained silent, its gaze fixed ahead, as if consumed by some unseen force. Moriko felt a pang of sadness wash over her as she stood there, helpless, watching the Brucie disappear into the lush foliage.

  Unsettled by the encounter, Moriko resolved to unravel the mystery that had befallen the Brucies. Days later, as she stood rooted against a towering tree, her eyes scanned the forest, and her heart skipped a beat. More Brucies with the same vacant expressions crossed her path, their movements slow and robotic.

  A sense of urgency seized Moriko as she rushed towards the nearest Brucie, determined to unravel the cause of their plight. “What is going on?” she called out, desperation tingling in her voice.

  Yet, the Brucie remained oblivious to her presence, its trance unbroken. Moriko's worry deepened, and she knew that she would not rest until she discovered the truth behind the strange affliction gripping the enchanted creatures of the forest. The cool breeze rustled the leaves, and the sunlight filtered through the dense canopy, casting patches of dappled light on the forest floor. The air was alive with the sounds of chirping birds and the gentle murmur of a nearby stream.

  Lost in the tranquility of nature, Moriko's peaceful journey was abruptly shattered when a group of Brucies crossed her path. Again, paid her no heed as they scurried alongside her, vanishing into the shadows of the trees. Moriko, the ever curious and compassionate soul, couldn't resist reaching out to them.

  “Wait!” she called after them, her voice ringing through the forest. “If you let me know what's going on, I can help!” But her words fell on deaf ears as the Brucies disappeared deeper into the darkness of the woods.

  A determined glint flickered in Moriko's eyes as she refused to let the moment pass. With a resolute stride, she veered towards the path the Brucies had taken, determination fueling her every step. Her heart thudded in her chest, a mix of curiosity and concern motivating her to unravel the mystery surrounding their behavior.

  As Moriko ventured further into the forest, nature embraced her with open arms. The forest seemed to come alive around her, its vibrant colors and intricate details captivating her senses. But as she followed the trail of the elusive Brucies, they slipped further away, their presence tantalizingly elusive.

  Undeterred, Moriko pressed on, her determination growing stronger with each step. She knew deep down, without a doubt, that her journey would lead her to the heart of their secret, to discover the truth that lay hidden within the forest's depths. And so, with unwavering resolve, Moriko ventured onward, her footsteps echoing amidst the ancient trees.

  Moriko's heart thudded against her chest as she watched the distant figures disappear into the treacherous forest. A flicker of worry glimmered in her eyes as she whispered, “I hope they are okay.”

  ***

  As the first rays of dawn crept through the thick curtains of the Water Kingdom Palace, casting a soft, golden glow upon the opulent bedroom, Evain stirred from her slumber. She found herself nestled against Ramil's broad chest, his steady heartbeat lulling her into a peaceful sleep. She attempted to extricate herself gently, intending to start the day, but Ramil, without opening an eye, pulled her closer, unwilling to let her go.

  “Just a few more minutes,” he murmured, his voice husky with sleep. “Then we can worry about everything else.”

  Evain's fingertips traced delicate patterns on Ramil's chest, her touch leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. A small smile played upon her lips as she spoke, her voice infused with genuine affection. “I must admit, waking up beside you is a pleasure I never want to end.”

  Ramil remained with his eyes closed, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He spoke softly, his words carrying a hint of suggestion. “We could make this arrangement permanent, you know.”

  Evain's palm connected gently with Ramil's chest, breaking the ethereal moment. She maintained her position, her voice filled with unwavering determination. “I cannot betray my father, Ramil. He may have his flaws, but he is still my family, my king.”

  A hint of frustration tinged Ramil's response, his words laced with concern. “But does he not betray you, Evain? He keeps you in the dark, ignorant of his grand plans. These demons that he seeks to control, they will bring nothing but destruction, not only to our kingdom but to everything we hold dear.”

  “Would you even betray your father?” Evain's voice trembled with a mix of fear and longing.

  Ramil's eyes glistened with a profound sadness. “Every step I make is betraying my father,” he confessed. Bracing himself, he slowly lowered his hand beneath the silk sheets that separated them, inches closer to her trembling form.

  “I just want to be with you, Evain,” Ramil whispered, his voice laced with vulnerability. “You are different from all the others, truly special.”

  A hint of skepticism flickered in Evain's eyes. “Is that what you tell all the ladies who come into your life?” Her voice held a touch of playfulness, as if hoping to shed some of the gravity that threatened to consume them both.

  Caught off guard, Ramil couldn't help but laugh softly. “No,” he replied, his laughter tinged with genuine amusement. “I don't have to say anything at all; they just show up ready to go.” With a swift motion, he dipped his head beneath the sheets, seeking solace in between her thighs.

  Evain, her resolve weakening, gave in to the intensity of their connection. “Fine, one more time,” she conceded, her words mingling with a soft moan. “But I need to find a way to get you out of here.”

  Resting back against her satin-covered pillow, Evain watched the subtle movements beneath the sheets. Muffled by the layers that separated them, Ramil's voice reached her ears, his words as desperate as their fleeting moments together. “Or,” he murmured, “I can stay hidden here, in this sanctuary secret garden.”

  Outside the grand Water Kingdom Palace, the bustling marketplace came to life in the early morning light. Marius, his figure shrouded in a dark blue hooded cloak, stealthily surveyed the scene, his eyes keenly fixed on an empty booth. The diligent farmers busied themselves, setting up their stalls with fresh produce and colorful wares. However, one particular booth remained void of any signs of activity - Wade and Gabriella's booth.

  Just as Marius was about to surrender to his growing sense of disappointment, a glimmer of hope sparked within him. Through the crowd, he caught sight of Wade, his aging features etched with lines of determination and grit, as he hauled their farmer's cart towards their spot. Beside him, Gabriella steadfastly pushed the weighty cart with unwavering devotion.

  Driven by a surge of urgency, Marius hurried over to offer his assistance to Gabriella. As he approached her, the hood of his cloak slipped slightly, revealing his searching eyes and enigmatic expression. “I haven't seen you in a while,” he uttered.

  Amidst the exertion, Gabriella's breath caught in her throat, momentarily taken aback by Marius' sudden appearance. She studied him, her eyes tracing the contours of his face, until finally acknowledging his observation with a gentle smile. “Yes, we have been occupied with tending to the harvest,” she replied.

  Wade, Gabriella, and Marius found themselves standing in front of a modest booth that would showcase their humble farm produce. The air was alive with the sounds of merchants haggling and shoppers chattering excitedly.

  Marius's gaze fell upon Gabriella, and in that moment, he noticed a large bruise on her arm. Concern etched itself onto his features as he delicately touched her arm and whispered, “Who did this to you?”

  Gabriella, however, instinctively pulled down her sleeve, masking the bruise, and replied with a hint of defiance, “It's not your concern, Marius.” Determination glimmered in her eyes as she set about unloading the cart, arranging their wares beside Wade.

  Refusing to take no for an answer, Marius reached out to assist Gabriella with a heavy box of potatoes, his voice filled with sincerity. “Please, tell me,” he implored.

  Her fingers trembled slightly as she carefully placed the box onto the table. Looking up at Marius, Gabriella sighed, her voice tinged with resignation. “The arrogant newly appointed Lord of the Lower Trench Lands deemed our last month's sales insufficient. In his greed, he punished us, claiming that the Water King expects more from the hardworking farmers like us.”

  Wade, Gabriella, and Marius stood behind their booth, nestled amidst a whirlwind of vibrant stalls and bustling crowds. The aroma of freshly baked bread merged with the fragrant scent of blooming wildflowers, creating an intoxicating symphony for the senses.

  Marius, his brow furrowed in deep contemplation, carefully placed another box on the weathered wooden table. With a deliberate glide, the box made its way to Gabriella, who met his gaze with cautious trepidation. In hesitant whispers, Marius broke the silence, his voice carrying the weight of conviction, “I work in the palace, I can speak to the king.”

  Gabriella's eyes darted around, the anxious glances of the villagers reflecting the doubts plaguing her heart. Her voice trembled as she spoke, her words carried on a gentle breeze, “No, Marius. You mustn't. The king barely acknowledges our existence, and if he were to turn his attention towards us, he would take our young maidens for his sexual endeavors, as he has done in other corners of his vast kingdom.”

  Marius clenched his fists, his face etched with determination. His voice, steady, resolute, rose above the clamor of the marketplace. “Something must be done,” he said, his gaze fixed upon the sprawling Water Kingdom Palace in the distance.