Stoneveil thrived.
Walls rebuilt. Markets reopened. The people sang again.
But Zaxton saw further. He saw beyond politics and power—he saw potential.
He walked the training fields each morning, watching recruits spar, watching Lilac veterans teach old forms, and children mimic them with stick-swords. His beasts walked beside him, silent sentinels of trust.
And then came the vision.
---
THE FOUNDING OF THE BEAST TAMING ACADEMY
A field once soaked in blood was now filled with starlight lanterns and flowering stone trees. Carved into a crescent slope against the southern ridge, the Stoneveil Academy of Beast Cultivation opened its gates.
No tuition.
No titles.
Only one requirement: respect.
Zaxton's opening address, brief and fierce, echoed through the city:
> "Beasts are not tools.
They are not trophies.
They are not threats.
They are mirrors.
If you walk with one, you will know yourself."
---
THE SPIRIT BEAST BOND
Zaxton introduced a theory, long dismissed by scholars of the past:
Not all beasts are meant to be tamed. Some are meant to walk beside.
The Spirit Beast Bond was not forged through chains or pain—it was earned through resonance: shared thoughts, aligned emotions, mutual will.
Each beast became a reflection of the cultivator's inner world.
They weren't mounts.
They weren't weapons.
They were companions—both in battle and life.
---
BEAST MASTERS – A NEW CULTIVATION PATH
Other cities had Fire Disciples, Stormcallers, Sword Saints.
Stoneveil now had Beast Masters.
Their cultivation followed a dual-thread system:
Astral Thread – Classic body and core refinement via planetary cycles.
Beast Thread – A spiritual pulse trained through empathy, resonance, and shared combat.
Beast Masters didn't dominate battlefields through sheer force.
They coordinated, adapted, and struck from angles no swordsman could predict—riding thunder bears, merging with wind falcons, or simply fighting side-by-side with lifelong partners.
Zaxton's own beasts stood as living proof:
Korrin, the shadow panther, moved when he moved.
Ashra, the flame-falcon, wept when he bled.
Voll, the mute stone tusker, refused to eat unless Zaxton had rested.
---
COUNCIL REACTIONS
Mara and Sister Yen welcomed the idea—calling it revolutionary and deeply spiritual.
But Master Huo warned:
MASTER HUO
"We are training heroes. But if we are not careful, we are also creating a new kind of general."
Zaxton only replied:
ZAXTON
"Let them lead. Let them protect. But never let them forget that the beast they command… can choose to walk away."
---
RIPPLES ACROSS THE EMPIRE
Within three months, other cities sent scouts and emissaries. Rumors swirled.
The Beast King rises in Stoneveil.
The Warlord's son was felled by a whisper and a roar.
The stars walk beside him now.
Some feared it. Others envied it.
And far to the east, in the burning halls of the Blackened Iron Court, Warlord Dakkur finally stood.
His son was dead.
His honor scarred.
And now… someone was building a legend.
When Iron Breaks
The drums of war came long before the army did.
A sound like thunder rolling endlessly in the east. Clouds blackened. Birds fled.
Warlord Dakkur, the Iron Fang himself, had heard his son had fallen. Not in war, but in disgrace. Slain by a no-name boy and beasts.
To Dakkur, that could not be forgiven.
His army was twenty thousand strong. Veterans of conquest. Marching under banners forged in blood and fire. Their armor bore the sigil of the Iron Fang—a snarling wolf devouring a star.
They expected another easy slaughter.
Another forgotten city.
Another shattered dream.
They had never met Stoneveil Reborn.
---
PREPARATIONS
Zaxton did not panic. He did not waver.
Instead, he stood before the Council and simply said:
ZAXTON
"He will arrive. We will greet him."
The Academy went into overdrive—students moved to fortified positions, Lilac Order veterans deployed to critical gates, and Beast Masters paired with their companions in squads of five.
Mara opened the archives.
Thalos sharpened the forge.
Silenn coordinated the spy net.
Even the orphans took up arms.
---
THE SIEGE OF STONEVEIL
The Iron Fang host arrived at dawn—banners stretched across the horizon.
Dakkur rode at the front on a chimera made from stolen spirit beasts, his armor stitched from hide and horror.
He spoke once:
DAKKUR
"Kneel now and you will die quickly."
Zaxton answered with silence.
Then a sky-wide screech cut through the morning.
Ashra, the flame-falcon, dove like a meteor, igniting the first siege engine with divine fire.
The battle began.
---
THE HUMBLING OF DAKKUR
The Iron Fang army expected fear. Instead, they met:
Beast Masters striking with seamless unity.
Stoneveil-trained archers shooting by starlight calculations.
Lilac Order phalanxes holding walls that glowed with defensive arrays.
But it was not brute strength that broke Dakkur.
It was coordination.
It was purpose.
As his army faltered, Dakkur broke the ranks, charging toward the city center, aiming to tear its heart out.
He found Zaxton waiting atop the beast-gate, surrounded by his companions and the Council.
DAKKUR
"I have slain kings."
ZAXTON
"Then you've only met men."
Their battle was brief—but brutal.
Steel clashed against starlight. Dakkur fought with the fury of a father.
Zaxton fought with the weight of a city behind him.
The final blow came not from Zaxton's hand—
but from Korrin, the shadow panther, whose silent leap brought the warlord down.
---
AFTERMATH: STONEVEIL ASCENDS
The Iron Fang host shattered.
Leaderless and awestruck, many fled. Some even stayed—choosing to serve what they could not defeat.
Zaxton stood before the people once more, Dakkur's broken weapon at his feet.
He did not call for celebration.
He simply raised one hand.
ZAXTON
"Let this be known.
We do not seek conquest.
But if you bring war to our door—
You will not leave as you came."
---
THE REALM TAKES NOTICE
From the north, empires sent envoys.
From the east, warlords paused their campaigns.
Stoneveil was now not just a survivor—
It was a superpower.
A city of stars.
Of beasts.
And of unity.
The name Zaxton became a warning… and a beacon.
A Cleansing Flame
The war was over, but the threat still breathed—in stone, in memory, in the shadowed halls of the Iron City.
Three days after the siege, Zaxton stood on the edge of the eastern cliff, overlooking the broken remnants of Dakkur's defeated legions. At his side: Ashra circling in silence, Korrin pacing like a phantom, and the Council behind him, uncertain.
Zaxton raised a hand. A single order.
ZAXTON
"Burn the Iron City.
Melt its gates.
Salt its forges.
Let no child ever be born beneath that cursed name again."
No cheers followed.
Only silence.
His words rippled like truth spoken to the stars—and across the realm, rumors spread that the Iron City did not fall… it vanished.
Where once stood towers of black steel and cruelty, now only smoldering ash and beast-song remained.
The Iron Legacy was no more.