Several days had passed since, during a thunderstorm, a blinding emerald light illuminated the night sky in the southeasternmost part of the Fifth Ring of Lydenfrost.

  The people of the Kingdom of Vereida thought it was just another meteorite, like many that had fallen in the past.

  But when they went to investigate the source of the glow, they found something unusual: thin, yet incredibly strong, silver-colored fibers.

  At dawn the next day, the kingdom’s astronomers and sages gathered with the king to delve deeper into the matter. After many hours of reviewing records of celestial sightings, they discovered that this was not the first time something similar had happened.

  In one of the many archives of astronomical events at their disposal, they found a particular case that matched almost exactly—except for two details: the glow on that occasion had been reddish, and the event had occurred in the Seventh Ring. However, that case had remained unresolved.

  The sages claimed it was the same type of meteorite, assuring that it was completely harmless and posed no significant risk.

  They tried comparing the silver fibers to the fur of various animals and beasts, but they found no perfect match. Its resistance was comparable to steel, yet its flexibility resembled that of human hair.

  By midday, the sages and the king decided to suspend the investigation for the time being—until, suddenly...

  "My lord!! My lord, it’s urgent!!" A royal messenger came running, panting, drenched in sweat, his face flushed red from exhaustion, his hat nearly falling off his head. "My lord, I beg for your attention!"

  The sages looked at him with various expressions; some with disgust, others stepped back, and one even covered his nose in his presence.

  "Oh! I beg your forgiveness, eminent sages of the kingdom!" The messenger bowed deeply and knelt before them.

  The sages began whispering among themselves, covering their mouths, though their murmurs were clearly disparaging comments about the messenger.

  "You may speak, messenger. Come forth and tell me what you have to say," the king declared, taking a sip of red wine from his golden goblet. "You claim it is an urgent matter—speak as such."

  The messenger cautiously walked toward the king, crossing the grand hall.

  The floor was covered by a soft beast-hide carpet. In the center of the hall stood a massive table carved from an ancient tree. Along its sides were marble statues of the kingdom’s previous rulers, the last of which—still unfinished—depicted the current king.

  Upon the table rested a wooden scale model of the kingdom, displaying troop deployments throughout the territory. Every house, forge, tavern, and watchpost was meticulously represented.

  "Well then, messenger? What message do you bring?" the king pressed, fixing his gaze on him, as did the sages.

  The messenger pulled a sealed paper envelope from his bag, the seal made of red tree sap.

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  "Your Majesty and esteemed sages, I have brought you this urgent message. I beg you to read it," he said, kneeling as he presented it to the king.

  "Hmm? What is this material? Some type of paper?" The king examined the envelope and letter with curiosity. Never before had he seen paper so perfectly folded, so white. The letters he had received in the past were yellowish, more fragile, and bore the emblems of their respective kingdoms of origin—but this was unlike any of them.

  The king glanced at the sages, broke the seal, and opened the envelope. Inside was the letter, which he began reading aloud. At the same time, the messenger audibly swallowed.

  "This letter is addressed to the ruler of this kingdom.

  I shall present myself before you at the hour when the sun sets and the stars emerge. At that time, I will come to take your most prized possession. Do not attempt to stop me, for I will reach you sooner or later.

  For the sake of your kingdom, I implore you not to alert the guards or declare a state of emergency. Neither you nor I wish for more people to become involved in this matter.

  I will arrive through the northern entrance of the kingdom. I will be punctual.

  Sincerely,

  S.T."

  The sages immediately erupted into discussion. As the king finished reading the letter, all manner of opinions filled the air—some believed it was an elaborate prank, while others insisted it should be taken seriously.

  The king, his tone grave, slowly turned his head toward the messenger.

  "Who gave this to you?"

  "I have no idea... The man told me he was a highly regarded seer in the area," the messenger replied.

  "There are no seers in this age. The last recorded instance of one dates back over five hundred years, after the war against the beasts," one of the sages interjected.

  "That doesn’t rule out the possibility that he came from another kingdom," another sage suggested.

  "Impossible. The nearest human kingdom is a four-month journey from here. We conducted a census a week ago, and we haven’t received a single foreign carriage since last year," another sage concluded.

  "Calm yourselves, there must be an explanation. When exactly was this letter given to you?" the king asked.

  "At midnight yesterday, my lord. As I said before, I couldn't clearly see who handed it to me," the messenger responded, stroking his chin. "The only thing I remember is a human silhouette, with glowing eyes, giving me the letter."

  The king examined the envelope more closely and, within the creases of the folds, found something familiar.

  "That color... that shape... that resistance... Could it be...?" he murmured, covering his mouth.

  "It’s identical to the fibers we found, my lord," one of the sages confirmed.

  The king clasped his hands together and stated,

  "Our target is humanoid, and these fibers are its hair."

  "Not even the most powerful magic can turn hair into a non-existent material, Your Majesty," a sage added.

  "This entity comes from outside the Lydenfrost dome—I am almost certain... But nothing and no one survives out there... So... then..." another sage muttered.

  "Enough, gentlemen. We are facing an unknown threat. Whatever it is, we must be prepared. For now, the best thing we can do is organize ourselves," the king declared with an air of command.

  "Your Majesty," a sage spoke up, "the Templar Program is nearly complete. We are dealing with an unidentified threat. I suggest we use all available resources to prevent major damage."

  "Excellent. I decree that the Templar Program be activated," the king announced, pointing at the model of the kingdom. "We are racing against time. Get to work!"

  The hour of sunset was fast approaching.

  When the sun finally dipped below the horizon, a lone humanoid figure appeared in the distance—its glowing eyes, just as the messenger had described.

  "Barriers ready!" the king commanded.

  "Ready!" the soldiers responded, forming a wall.

  A war cry echoed across the battlefield.

  Yet despite the overwhelming force against him, the man did not retreat.

  He assumed a battle stance, ready to strike.

  One man against hundreds of troops.

  No one could have foreseen what was about to unfold...