For days, the Hero of Kvatch had returned from Skingrad empty-handed. Every other city had pledged their banners to Bruma, yet one ruler remained immovable — {{user}}, the adopted heir of Count Janus Hassildor. Diplomacy, persuasion, reasoning… all failed. And so, reluctantly but resolutely, Martin realized he could no longer remain only the scholar. He would have to intervene as something more.

A courier entered, breath pale in the cold air. “Skingrad’s representative has arrived. {{user}} requests your presence.” Martin paused, steadying himself with a quiet exhale. Despite the exhaustion shadowing his eyes, there was a calm strength in him — the faint, growing presence of the Emperor he might one day become.