Chapter 221
The icy mountain wind swept relentlessly across the broad, snow-covered plain as a single rider slowly made his way toward the formidable gates of the Supreme Citadel under a high white flag.
Every single pair of sharp eyes stationed along the high stone ramparts watched his steady progress.
The rider wore a thick silver cloak embroidered with the proud emblem of the Silver Leopard Clan, its metallic thread shimmering beneath the pale afternoon sun.
His horse moved at an unhurried, measured pace, leaving a clean trail of deep hoofprints through the untouched white snow.
High above on the towering Citadel walls, hundreds of elite Manticore archers maintained their tactical positions.
Not a single heavy bow was lowered, and not a single soldier relaxed his stance.
Captain Ronan stood directly on the cold stone battlements, his hand resting firmly on his sword hilt, with General Rowan standing silently by his side.
General Rowan narrowed his sharp, battle-hardened eyes as he looked down at the lonely figure traversing the white plain. "Only one rider."
Ronan gave a quiet nod of confirmation. "He kept his word. No hidden vanguard trailing behind him."
General Rowan rested one heavy, gauntleted hand against the frosted stone wall, his gaze never leaving the approaching messenger. "Do you truly trust him, Ronan?"
Ronan answered calmly, his voice steady against the howling wind. "I trust Patriarch Wang to honor a white flag. He is a man of ancient principles. But I do not trust the unpredictable nature of a battlefield."
General Rowan let out a quiet, thoughtful hum. "Neither do I. Caution has kept this Citadel standing for generations."
The messenger finally brought his horse to a complete halt several dozen meters away from the massive outer oak gates.
He slowly and deliberately climbed down from his saddle, ensuring every movement was smooth and completely unthreatening.
Without making a single sudden gesture, he unbuckled the broad leather belt holding the heavy steel sword at his waist. He placed the weapon down carefully on the pristine snow.
Next, he reached into his side sheath, removing a short hunting dagger and setting it beside the sword.
He then bent down smoothly, sliding a thin, hidden blade out from the interior lining of his right boot and laying it atop the small pile.
Once stripped of his visible armaments, he stepped three clear paces backward, raising both of his empty hands into the open air.
"I come under the sacred protection of a white flag," his calm, powerful voice echoed clearly across the frozen plain, reaching the ears of every commander on the battlements. "I formally request an immediate audience with His Majesty."
Captain Ronan exchanged a brief, solemn glance with General Rowan before raising his right arm to give the signal. "Open the first outer gate."
A deep, reverberating rumble echoed throughout the mountain valley as heavy iron chains cranked into motion.
The massive outer doors slowly parted just wide enough for four heavily armored Shadow Guards to step outside into the snow. Captain Ronan walked directly at the head of the formation, his cloak whipping behind him.
They brought their short march to a halt a few feet away from the lone messenger.
Ronan studied the man’s face for a quiet moment, taking in his composed posture and calm eyes.
"State your name and rank," Ronan commanded.
"Kieran," the man replied cleanly. "Captain of the First Vanguard, Silver Leopard Clan."
Ronan nodded once. "You know our protocol for entering these gates."
"I do," Kieran said simply, extending his arms slightly wider.
Two of the Shadow Guards stepped forward immediately, performing a meticulous physical search.
They checked the broad fabric of his sleeves, the thick leather of his boots, the folds of his fur cloak, and even pressed their palms along the internal lining of his heavy winter garments to ensure no tiny hidden weapons or concealed spirit artifacts were overlooked.
After several thorough minutes of inspection, one of the guards stepped back and looked at Ronan. "He is completely clear, Captain."
Captain Ronan gave another approving nod. "Follow me."
Kieran did not attempt to pick up his discarded sword or daggers. He simply turned his back on his horse and walked calmly behind the guards as they ushered him through the massive stone doorway.
Behind his heels, the enormous iron doors groaned shut once again, sealing out the icy mountain wind.
Inside the inner perimeter of the Supreme Citadel, the cold air felt heavy with immense spiritual pressure.
Kieran looked around quietly as he was escorted down the grand stone thoroughfare.
Although he had heard countless legendary tales regarding the grand home of the Manticore Clan, seeing its massive scale with his own eyes was a profoundly sobering experience.
Tall, jagged stone towers reached high into the grey sky like sharp spears. Ancient, glowing defensive arrays flickered with subtle purple light just beneath the surface of the grand outer walls, pulsating with lethal energy.
Thousands of exceptionally disciplined soldiers stood at attention along every ledge, walkway, and platform without uttering a single sound.
Not one person appeared careless. Not one defensive formation seemed out of place or unprepared.
Walking through these dark corridors, Kieran finally understood why this legendary fortress had stood tall for centuries without ever falling to an invading force. It was an unyielding machine built purely for war and survival.
Captain Ronan noticed the messenger’s quiet observation. "You have never set foot inside these walls before."
"No," Kieran admitted honestly, his eyes taking in the sheer height of the central keep. "It is deeply impressive."
Ronan answered simply, his tone lacking any foolish pride. "It has to be. Surrounding kingdoms do not give us the luxury of weakness."
They continued walking in silence until they reached a wide, open stone pavilion that jutted out from the cliffside, directly overlooking the vast snowy valley below.
The cold air rushed freely through its high carved arches, but the stone floor remained swept and clean.
Several elite guards immediately took up protective positions around the perimeter of the pavilion, their hands resting on their weapons. General Rowan was already waiting inside, his heavy arms folded tightly across his armored chest.
General Rowan looked over at Ronan as they entered. "Has His Majesty been informed?"
"He will be here shortly," Ronan replied, gesturing for Kieran to stand near the center of the structure.
Kieran stood perfectly still, making no attempt to look around or inspect his surroundings further. He understood his position as a messenger and maintained a composed, respectful posture. He simply waited.
Only a few moments passed before deep, measured footsteps echoed smoothly across the polished stone floor.
Every single guard in the pavilion immediately straightened their backs and bowed their heads low. "Your Majesty."
Cassian walked gracefully into the open pavilion, wearing a long black velvet cloak trimmed with dark silver fur that trailed lightly behind his leather boots.
His striking golden eyes rested briefly on Kieran’s face before drifting past him, looking out toward the sharp white mountains in the distance.
"You came," Cassian remarked softly, his voice deep and smooth.
Kieran lowered his head in a respectful, formal bow. "Greetings, Your Majesty, Sovereign of the Supreme Citadel."
Cassian stopped several steps away, standing tall with his hands tucked loosely behind his back. "You carry Patriarch Wang’s direct words."
"I do, Your Majesty."
"Speak them."
Kieran reached inside his inner cloak pocket with a very slow, deliberate motion to avoid alarming the guards. Even so, several Shadow Guards instinctively tightened their grip on their spear hilts.
Kieran paused mid movement, demonstrating his complete lack of hostile intent. Captain Ronan raised a calm hand toward his men. "Easy."
Kieran smoothly withdrew a tightly rolled, formal scroll sealed with heavy blue wax bearing the sharp mark of the Silver Leopard Clan.
Keeping both of his hands fully visible, he presented the scroll with two outstretched palms.
"This personal missive was written by Patriarch Wang’s own hand," Kieran announced clearly.
Captain Ronan stepped forward, carefully taking the scroll from Kieran’s hands and inspecting it briefly before turning to present it to Cassian.
Cassian took the document and broke the blue wax seal with a simple flick of his thumb.
The broad stone pavilion fell into an absolute, breathless silence. The only sound remaining was the sharp whistling of the mountain wind through the open arches.
Cassian’s golden eyes moved slowly and meticulously across every written line. His expression remained entirely unreadable, a complete mask of kingly stoicism.
No one dared to speak a word, and no one dared to interrupt his quiet reading.
When his eyes finally reached the signature at the bottom of the parchment, he slowly folded the scroll back into a neat, tight rectangle.
General Rowan took a slight step forward, his voice low and cautious. "Your Majesty?"
Cassian kept his gaze fixed on the distant snowy peaks, his tone completely flat. "He requests a formal meeting."
Kieran gave a quiet nod of confirmation. "Tomorrow morning. Exactly at sunrise."
"Where?" Cassian asked.