"An empire is not built by kings. It is built by generals."
The Empire was not unprepared.
Though Kael's return had shattered the northern wastes, it would take more than shadowed armies to topple the heart of an empire built on blood, steel, and fear.
In the capital, word spread quickly. The royal council met in haste, their halls heavy with whispers. Emperor Calrix, seated on his throne of gold, clenched his scepter.
"The Hollow King," Calrix muttered, his voice tight with anger and fear. "How?"
At the table, generals and advisors exchanged grim glances. Not one of them dared to challenge the emperor's claim — Kael Varian, their once-hero, was dead, cast into oblivion, yet here he was again, reborn from death's embrace.
The silence was broken by General Haldric Voss, an iron-willed leader of the Empire's elite division, the Vanguard. His gaunt, battle-scarred face was shadowed with concern. "Sire, I fought alongside him during the Abyssal Tide. I know his strength, his resolve. Whatever this 'Hollow King' is, he is not Kael Varian anymore."
"He must be stopped." Calrix's voice cracked like ice. "Send the Vanguard. Send them all. I want his head."
A deadly silence followed.
Then, Haldric spoke again, his eyes narrowing. "And if he does not fall?"
"Then," Calrix said darkly, "the Empire falls with him."
Meanwhile, in the north, Kael moved forward, leaving behind burning fields and ruined villages. His Hollow Wraiths marched in formation behind him — but unlike before, Kael felt the stirrings of something greater. A force that grew with every soul he consumed.
As they traveled, Kael found remnants of his old life — places he had once defended, battlefields where blood had stained the earth for the Empire's glory. They were now forgotten, forsaken.
But now, they would be his.
Kael stood in the ruins of Verech's Pass, a once-impregnable fortress overlooking the northern trade routes. Now, the walls crumbled, the banners torn.
A voice broke his reverie.
"You… are a ghost." The voice was soft, but full of presence.
Kael turned. Standing at the gates was a woman — a warrior, with hair of white, eyes the color of ice, and a scar running down her face like a reminder of her past. She was clad in silver armor, wielding a blade of pure starlight.
"I am no ghost," Kael answered coldly. "I am the Hollow King."
Her stance did not waver. "A king of what? Shadows and whispers? You cannot bring the dead back to life."
Kael's eyes flickered violet. "I've brought death to their doorstep. And I'll bring it to yours."
She stepped forward, brandishing her blade. "Then come. I've killed kings before."
The battle began with a clash — steel ringing against Kael's shadow-wrought staff. Her strikes were swift, calculated, but Kael's form flowed with darkness, dodging her attacks with ease.
She moved like a storm — but Kael moved like the night. Every strike she landed only revealed more of her own vulnerability. Shadows seemed to cling to his form, curling around him like a second skin, absorbing her blows.
Kael's smile twisted into something predatory. He slammed his staff into the ground, sending a wave of black flame surging toward her. She blocked it with her blade, but the force sent her stumbling back.
"You fight like a mortal," Kael said, his voice dripping with contempt. "But you're more than that, aren't you?"
She steadied herself, her eyes narrowing. "You think you can break me with your shadows, Hollow King? You know nothing of the forces you've awakened."
"I've awakened everything," Kael shot back. With a snap of his fingers, the ground beneath her feet began to tremble.
Before she could react, the earth erupted, sending her crashing into the air. Kael moved with impossible speed, appearing before her with his staff raised. His voice was a low whisper as he struck down.
"This is the end."
But before the blow could fall, the ground rumbled. From the distance, the unmistakable sound of marching feet echoed — the Vanguard, led by General Haldric Voss himself, had arrived.
Kael turned, his eyes burning with the anticipation of war. "I'll take them all."
He raised his staff, and the world trembled with him. The shadows called. The dead answered.
In the capital, Emperor Calrix looked out from his balcony, his eyes glinting with malice. "Let the Vanguard deal with him," he muttered. "And when they fail…"
He smiled. A smile that promised more than death.
To be continued…