“You’ll regret this, boy!” he spat, his voice rising in a desperate fury. “You can’t imprison us all! We are Aropia’s legacy!”

“No,” Ren said softly, his gaze never wavering. “You are Aropia’s disease.”

As the soldiers dragged the senator away, Ren’s eyes swept over the rest of the gathered nobles, who stood frozen, stunned into silence.

Those who had not yet spoken shifted nervously, their pride wavering in the face of Ren’s uncompromising stance. A few made as if to protest, but the sight of their companion being forcibly escorted away made them hold their tongues.

“If any of you still think to challenge me,” Ren said, his tone dangerously soft, “step forward now.” His eyes were like steel, daring anyone to move.

Ogren stood at Ren’s side, his face impassive but his eyes bright with a satisfaction he did not bother to hide. This was the leaderAropia needed,no matter the differences that still lingered between them.

The rest of the senators stood still, trapped between their pride and the cold reality of the king’s wrath. One by one, they lowered their heads, their defeat bitter and silent in the face of Ren’s unbreakable will. They agreed to his terms , bowed and sought their leave.

The heavy silence settled over the field as the last of the senators were led away, leaving only Ren, Ogren, and the soldiers who stood in rigid attention.

The wind tugged at their cloaks, ruffling the dark fabric like banners waiting to be unfurled, and the distant rustle of the manna grass was the only sound that filled the gap left behind.

Ren's gaze shifted from the retreating figures to the soldiers before him. He took a step closer, his presence commanding every eye to fix on him.

He looked each of them in the eye, ensuring his next words would weigh heavily. "Listen well," he began, his voice firm and carrying the weight of his command. "Aropia is changing, and we will no longer be held back by the divisions that once kept us weak. The corruption that plagued this city is over." His eyes flickered to Ogren, his tone growing sharper with resolve. "From this day forward, Ogren of the Krowl tribe is your new general."

Ogren’s breath caught, his eyes widening in shock. He felt his heart hammer in his chest, and for a split second, the world seemed to slow down.

It was an honor he had never expected—a title he had only dreamed of in the darkest, loneliest nights of battle. A rush of disbelief and pride surged through him.

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Ren’s voice grew louder, cutting through Ogren’s racing thoughts. "I expect each and every one of you to follow him without question or complaint. It does not matter that he is not of noble blood, or that he comes from the Krowl tribe and the rest are Valeks or other tribes. There is no person I trust more to lead you into the battles ahead."

The soldiers remained silent, their expressions a mixture of surprise and uncertainty.

There had always been whispers about the Krowl tribe, about their rough ways and tribal customs.

Yet, standing before them was Ogren—a man they had seen fight tooth and nail, who had bled for the country without hesitation, whose loyalty to Ren was unwavering. They did not question their king’s decision, but Ogren could still feel the weight of their expectations pressing down on him.

For a moment, Ogren was at a loss for words.

His face was still as stone, but his eyes burned with a fierce, newfound fire. Slowly, he stepped forward, and Ren’s lips curved in a faint smile, knowing he had made the right choice.

Ogren’s shock had already faded, replaced by a swelling pride that made his broad shoulders seem even broader, his stance firmer.

"General," Ren said softly, addressing him by his new title, the word hanging in the air between them like a crown being placed upon his head. "Lead them well."

Ogren swallowed hard, and then he nodded, his eyes never leaving Ren’s.

“I will,” he said, his voice steady and deep, each word heavy with promise. A flicker of something fierce and determined passed over his face, and he lifted his chin higher.

For years, he had been a warrior—a soldier who fought with the raw strength of the Krowl in his veins. Now, he felt the mantle of leadership settle on his shoulders, the desire to prove himself burning brighter than ever before.

Ogren’s pride swelled, his heart thrumming with ambition. His hand clenched into a fist at his side as he turned to face the soldiers who were now his to command.

“Soldiers of Aropia!” he barked, his voice ringing out across the fields with the force of a war cry. The men snapped to attention, their surprise fading in the face of his commanding tone. “We have faced darkness together. Now we will march to a new dawn, united, as one. I will lead you to battles worth fighting, and to victories that will be sung about for generations! You will have my strength, my loyalty, and my blood—until the last breath leaves my body!”

The soldiers remained still for a heartbeat longer, and then, as one, they raised their fists to their chests in a salute. The atmosphere shifted—respect mingling with anticipation—and Ogren’s pride surged higher. He had been acknowledged not just by Ren, but by those who would follow him into the fires of war.

Ren’s eyes softened, seeing the change ripple through the ranks, and he placed a firm hand on Ogren’s shoulder. “Good,” he said quietly. “Let the world see that Aropia’s heart does not beat with the blood of the old nobility, but with the fire of those who have earned their place through sweat, struggle, and sacrifice.”

Ogren’s lips curved into a slow, fierce smile, his chest swelling with the promise of the battles to come.

He would not disappoint his country, nor the soldiers who now looked to him for guidance. Aropia’s future lay before him, and he was ready to lead them into it—one battle at a time, with honor blazing like a torch in his heart.