A tense hush fell over the courtyard as everyone awaited the Lord Commander's appearance. The reason was simple: every man vividly recalled the last time they were gathered here.

The lord commander cracked the whip out of them to the point that some were unable to move a finger, Then, he forced them to run around the courtyard in that very condition. To make matters worse, the image of that ethereal serpent dragging that man across the cold floor was still burned into their minds.

Their apprehension only intensified when they saw a group of men clad in Frostguard armor emerge from the Keep.

"Who are they?" they thought in unison.

At first glance, they couldn't recognize them. The new watchers had undergone a profound transformation—their hair was now silver, and their eyes blazed red like embers.

Swiftly, the new watchers assumed their positions around the courtyard in an orderly fashion, awaiting further instructions.

The men huddled in the courtyard were speechless, unable to tear their gazes away from the new watchers. Even the most inexperienced among them could sense the overwhelming aura emanating from the silver-haired men.

Suddenly, Leo, standing in the throng, recognized one of the watchers stationed at a distance. It was one of the official soldiers of the Keep and the one who had given Leo his dagger. He turned to his Elf friend, attempting to point out what he had just noticed, but before he could utter a word, the heavy oak and steel gate of the Keep creaked open.

Silence descended upon the courtyard as they saw Aron emerge from the Keep. His presence commanded respect and attention. His piercing gaze swept over the assembled Frostguard, taking in every detail.

"Men of the Frostguard," Aron's voice boomed across the courtyard, authoritative yet calm. "Today marks a new chapter in our history." Standing on the wooden platform, Aron gestured for a young elf clad in a mage's robe of silver adorned with crimson accents to stand beside him. Around the elf's waist hung a vast collection of ornately carved metal keys.

"Thanks to the dedicated work of Keeper Eldarion we were able to recreate the watcher's awakening potion and bring forth a new generation of watchers for our Keep," Aron continued, his voice carrying a note of pride. He opened his arms wide, encompassing the silver-haired men surrounding the courtyard.

"Once mortal bodies, these brave men," Aron declared, his voice resonating with power, "now stand as men of the watch, reborn with a power none of you could ever imagine."

A low murmur rippled through the crowd. The weight of Aron's words hung heavy in the air. Some faces reflected awe, while others harbored skepticism. Yet the sight of the transformed men, now Watchers, who radiated an otherworldly presence, was undeniably convincing.

Standing amidst the crowd, Eryndor's eyes widened in shock. As a seasoned soldier and a former commander, he had had the privilege of accessing the first level of the royal library. Among the books that commanders like him were required to read, one was written by a renowned general who served under Avaloria's first king.

In his book, the general recounted his wartime experiences, detailing a specific incident that left an indelible mark on him for the rest of his life. It involved the watchers.

Back then, the watchers were highly active, and their numbers were substantial. According to the book, at that time, there were roughly twenty-five thousand watchers. Fifteen thousand guarded the wall, and the remaining ten thousand roamed the lands, hunting down monsters and purging their corruption.

Avaloria was aggressively expanding its territories at that time, taking full advantage of its formidable knights and newly developed military magic.

Unable to retaliate, the neighboring kingdom was forced to take desperate measures that would ultimately lead to its downfall. Driven by desperation, they sought out dark magic, summoning creatures of unimaginable horror to unleash upon Avaloria's lands.

Detecting this threat, the Grandmaster dispatched an army of five thousand men to deal with that kingdom. The watchers were more than up to the task. Their silver blades spelled the end of that kingdom's existence.

A complete and utter annihilation; not a single soul survived their wrath. They swept through cities and armies alike. In just one year, that kingdom was no more.

The records indicated that the kill count of those five thousand watchers exceeded half a million souls. The general and his men were supposed to assist the watchers; however, they did nothing...correction, they couldn't do anything. They stood there in paralyzed terror as the watchers razed the entire kingdom to the ground.

The consequences of this event were monumental, paving the way for Avaloria to become what it is today. As for the general, he penned a warning to future generations in his book: "Flee at the sight of the silver-haired men."

Eryndor clenched his fists as the book's contents resurfaced in his mind. His thoughts raced as he tried to grasp the true extent of the watchers' power.

'Hold on a moment!' His eyes widened as he recalled Aron's words: 'Awakening potion.'

'If I can get my hands on that potion and deliver it to His Majesty, I'll reclaim my position and likely even be promoted to general!'

Looking left and right Eryndor saw that under Lieutenant Eamon's order, the Frostguard had formed groups of one hundred men. The first group had already entered the Keep to receive the awakening potion.

'Good! I have time' he thought with relief.

Realizing he had plenty of time before his turn, Eryndor feigned a sudden chill, approaching one of the new Watchers stationed nearby.

"Excuse me," Eryndor began, his voice slightly trembling with feigned discomfort. "I seem to have caught a chill. Do you mind if I fetch an extra fur coat to warm myself?"

The Watcher regarded him silently for a moment before inclining his head in a silent acknowledgment. With a nod of gratitude, Eryndor hurried towards the barracks, his mind racing with thoughts of the potion that held the promise of power and prestige.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Bursting into the barracks, Eryndor swiftly retrieved the communication orb from beneath his bed. Wasting no time, he channeled his mana into the orb, summoning the king's advisor.

"Eryndor? Why are you contacting me now? If it's about your rank, His Majesty still–" the orb crackled with the advisor's irritated voice.

"Forgive the interruption, my lord, but there's no time to waste. I have crucial information," Eryndor blurted, urgency lacing his voice.

The advisor, taken aback by Eryndor's urgency quickly regained his composure not caring about the fact he just got interrupted, "Am listening"

Eryndor took a deep breath, collecting his thoughts. "The new Lord Commander has managed to recreate the watcher awakening potion, and he's already using it to transform all the Frostguards into watchers."

"WHAT!" The advisor's voice boomed through the orb. He practically leaped from his chair, slamming his palms on the desk. The orb vibrated with the force of his reaction.

"Indeed," Eryndor confirmed, his voice urgent. "The Frostguards are being transformed into Watchers as we speak. I contacted you to inform you that I intend to acquire the potion."

"Excellent! Splendid!" The king's advisor exclaimed. "Eryndor, do everything in your power to obtain that potion. I have a mage stationed in the southern city. I'll inform him to dispatch his familiar beast to retrieve the potion." Pausing for a beat, the advisor added, "Do this for us, Eryndor, and I assure you, you will be handsomely rewarded."

Eryndor's heart pounded with a mixture of determination and anticipation. "Thank you, my lord. I won't disappoint you," he vowed

"Good. I'll instruct my mage to send his familiar only at nightfall, starting tonight. When you have the potion, use the second mana frequency signal to help the familiar identify you.

With a firm nod, Eryndor acknowledged the instructions. "Understood, my lord. I'll be ready," he affirmed, his voice resolute.

As the communication ended, Eryndor's mind raced with the gravity of the task ahead. He knew that time was of the essence, and he couldn't afford to waste a single moment.

Emerging from the barracks and melting back into the crowd, Eryndor felt a renewed sense of purpose coursing through him. However, he failed to notice the fleeting smirk that materialized in his shadow for a brief moment.

…

Inside Eldarion's lab, Aron watched with pride as the Frostguards were transformed one by one into watchers. With each transformation, the chances of successfully defending the Wall increased.

The men handled the transformation with varying degrees of ease. The barbarians, who valued strength above all else, were ecstatic about the change. In contrast, the dwarves were less than enthusiastic.

The two-meter-tall barbarians were straightforward people, valuing strength above all else. Unlike other humans, they worshipped the primal sprites. All the barbarians under Aron's command hailed from the same clan, and their primal spirit was called the Iron Boar.

The Iron Boar's blessing bestowed upon them powerful physiques, superior defense, and the watcher awakening further enhanced their strength. Naturally, they were extremely pleased.

On the other hand, most of the dwarves were disgruntled by the new changes, all because of a single aspect: their beards. Losing their glorious, colorful beards was too much to bear. They attempted to voice their complaint, but a single, well-placed punch from Aron sent them spinning 360 degrees. They quickly recanted, claiming the silver-hued beards made them appear wiser.

…

The transformation process continued relentlessly, batch after batch, for hours on end. Aron's goal was to transform everyone that day. Tomorrow, he would organize them, implement a new training program, and then depart for the southern city with Luca.

As he sat in a chair, engrossed in a book written in Draconic, Aron's senses abruptly screamed danger.

"!!! " Without hesitation, he sprang to his feet, extending his senses across the lab, his eyes scanning for any sign of trouble.

"What's that?" Utilizing his dragon sight, he spotted an anomaly occurring within one of the cocoons.

Focusing on the cocoon, his sight pierced through the veil of magic surrounding it, revealing a disturbing sight.

Inside the cocoon, Leo was undergoing a brutal transformation. Two distinct types of mana, one shimmering gold like morning sunlight and the other as dark as midnight, were locked in a vicious struggle within his chest. The clash of energies caused Leo's body to convulse in agony, his features contorted in pain.

"Eldarion!! BARRIERS!" Aron shouted, his voice echoing through the lab with urgency. Without wasting a moment, he sprinted towards Leo's cocoon, his mind racing with thoughts of how to contain the violent energies.

Eldarion, alerted by Aron's urgent command, quickly moved into action. With a swift wave of his hands, he summoned shimmering barriers of magical energy around the cocoon, reinforcing them with every ounce of his power; He then layered another set of barriers around the glass sphere to ensure its protection.

Meanwhile, Aron placed his hands on the cocoon with his right hand he focused on absorbing the dark mana while with his left he focused on the golden one. His attempt was to somehow stabilize the two manas inside Leo's body, With a single glance, Aron realized that removing either type of mana would trigger the other to explode with catastrophic consequences.

'Balance!, I must achieve balance inside him,' he thought fiercely.

After a full ten minutes of intense mentally draining focus, Aron finally managed to stabilize the two manas inside Leo by carefully draining them and maintaining an equal amount of each within his body. The moment that balance was achieved, a core formed inside Leo's chest, where the two types of mana swirled in a circular formation around each other.

No sooner had the core fully formed than the cocoon shattered, causing the surrounding energy to destabilize rapidly.

'Well…shit'

BOOM!

A minor explosion erupted, shaking the lab and sending shockwaves rippling through the air. Thankfully, the barriers held, and everyone had been evacuated minutes prior. Only Aron and Leo remained inside the lab.

Disoriented and completely naked, Leo stood there, his head throbbing with a splitting headache. His vision blurred, but he managed to glimpse a black-paged book with a black leather cover hovering near him, accompanied by a gleaming golden feather

"Wh-What...is...that?" Leo struggled to speak, clutching his head with both hands.

Suddenly, a hand with crimson claws clamped around his throat, tightening its grip and constricting his breathing. On the verge of suffocation, Leo lost consciousness.

The red-clawed hand belonged to Aron, who had instinctively assumed his draconic form. He had seized the boy's neck in a violent reaction. Gazing at Leo with eyes brimming with hatred.

Driven by primal instinct, Aron raised his right hand, forming a spear with his claw. His intention was clear. However, as he prepared to pierce Leo's heart, the black book abruptly materialized before his face, unleashing a blinding flash of light from the runes etched on its black pages.

Only then did Aron snap out of his rage, regaining his consciousness. Confused and disoriented, he stumbled back, dropping Leo to the ground. He stared at his hands, muttering in disbelief, "What was I about to do?"

…

In a magical realm high above the clouds, where no mortal had ever set foot, a woman with hair like spun gold sat upon a gigantic golden throne. Her eyes snapped open wide in surprise.

"A holy magic user has just been born," she declared, a mixture of disbelief and excitement lacing her voice.

With a wave of her hand, a four-winged angel materialized in the hall.

"A new holy magic user has emerged. Find him and bring him to me," she commanded.

The angel bowed deferentially. "Yes, Your Majesty."

As the angel departed, the woman, Sol, the Aspect of the Sun, shifted her gaze towards a colossal golden cage in the distance. Her sight landed on a colossal golden cage at a distance.

"Should I send him?" Sol muttered to herself, only to shake her head a moment later. "No, too risky. The boy's still in his rebellious phase. I can't have him running around messing up my plans."

Taking a deep breath, her expression softened momentarily. "Maybe he'll snap out of those foolish thoughts, or he'll be stuck in that cage for another five hundred years."

Letting out a sigh, Sol's gaze dropped to the floor. "I'm a terrible mother," she whispered to the emptiness of the hall.

…

Within the golden cage, a man knelt on the cold floor, bound by a hundred golden chains. His eyes flew open in shock, a wide grin splitting his face.

"My father is Alive?!"