The tribal leaders surrounding Corvus were carefully observing the young man. Some were curious about his thoughts, others were trying to gauge his abilities. Many, however, were simply looking for ways to establish good relations with him. But the reason for this interest was not solely because Corvus was the foremost candidate for the title of Sanguinar. There were many Sanguinar candidates in Rhazgord, each possessing a certain influence, even if they were not strong. What truly drew the attention of the tribal leaders was Sakhaar’s stance.

  Sakhaar, known for his ruthlessness and cruelty, was infamous for showing no mercy even to his own blood. And yet, he had openly declared his support for Corvus in front of Carek and everyone present at the council. Ignoring someone who had gained the backing of such a man would be foolish. Being on the side of someone Sakhaar approved of could be the best way to survive in the future.

  However, before most of them even had the chance to approach Corvus, several Tiamat Guards, clad in dark armor, cut through the crowd. Their gazes were stern, their steps unwavering. One of them walked directly up to Corvus, disregarding the surrounding crowd, and spoke in a low voice after bowing slightly.

  “There is a problem.”

  Even Corvus, who rarely tensed even on the battlefield, could not help but furrow his brows. The Tiamat Guards assigned to maintain order at the council meeting were among the most elite warriors of Rhazgord. After all, those present at this gathering were warlords, bloodthirsty fighters, and leaders known as much for their intelligence as for their ruthlessness. If a guard was calling for Corvus, it was not for a simple disagreement or a minor quarrel.

  Corvus’ name carried weight, and the presence of the Tiamat Guards was often enough to deter trouble. If they were summoning him, it meant the matter was serious.

  He offered a polite nod to the crowd as an apology before walking away with resolute steps. The atmosphere had grown tense.

  “What is the problem?”

  His voice was neither hurried nor indifferent. Without turning his head, he continued walking, but the authority in his tone immediately prompted the warriors beside him to respond. The largest of the guards spoke with a firm voice.

  “The heirs have gotten into a fight behind the mansion.”

  Corvus’ expression darkened. He wondered how the heirs found the time to bicker when there were so many critical matters being discussed at the council.

  “Which tribes?”

  “The Iskat and the Ogon. The Nabuks are watching.”

  A flicker of concern ignited within Corvus, and his steps quickened. The heir of the Iskat tribe was Ilyada. He had not known she was here, and that alone was a bad sign. But the real issue was not her presence—it was what she might do. Ilyada was infamous for her instability; when provoked or simply when it pleased her, she did not hesitate to set everything ablaze. Once she started chaos, it was never easily resolved.

  If she had truly started a fight, this had already escalated far beyond a simple argument.

  Corvus was no longer walking—he was striding rapidly. As he left behind the silent but grim atmosphere of the council, an urgent voice in his mind reminded him that he needed to take control of the situation before his anger and concern turned into a storm.

  By the time Corvus reached the back of the mansion, a sharp tension filled the air. Voices, threats, and mocking laughter echoed in the wind. Two groups of young warriors stood like gladiators before a battle, challenging one another. On one side were the young warriors of the Iskat tribe, on the other, the Ogons. Shoulders were squared, eyes burned with fury, and each warrior stood on high alert. Meanwhile, the Nabuks, though fewer in number, stood off to the side, silently watching.

  The most striking figure among them was Rezep Nabuk, standing at the forefront of the Nabuk group with his arms crossed.

  Rezep locked eyes with Corvus, his expression carrying a mocking indifference. He was one of Carek’s sons and widely regarded as Corvus’ greatest rival. His age, abilities, and intellect were nearly on par with Corvus’. However, at this moment, rather than stirring the conflict or attempting to defuse it, he was merely observing. Like a predator weighing its prey, he watched the events unfold.

  Corvus pushed aside his thoughts and took action. Accompanied by the Tiamat Guards, he strode directly between the two groups. Though they were only four in number, their presence alone was enough to silence the crowd. For a brief moment, there was a pause… In an atmosphere heavy with rage and hatred, Corvus’ presence seemed to pull all the tension toward a single focal point.

  However, his focus was not on the hostile groups before him but on his betrothed, Ilyada.

  Ilyada was the most unpredictable person he had ever known. Even within her own people, she was referred to as “the mad one,” yet the Iskat and Tiamat tribes had shared a bond of friendship for centuries. The disturbance she was causing at such an important event was unacceptable.

  For the Tiamat, the Iskat were allies—just like the Ogon. Although the alliance with the Ogons was built upon a mutual hatred of the Nabuks and was not as deep-rooted as that with the Iskat, they were still supposed to be on the same side.

  But tonight, two allies were ready to spill each other’s blood.

  Corvus’ voice cut through the air like a sharp blade:

  “Whatever your issue is, resolve it at another time! Otherwise, you will be punished for disrespecting the Council!”

  His words would have been enough to make most tribal warriors tremble, but those standing before him belonged to the greatest tribes of Rhazgord. They were not easily intimidated.

  Ilyada stepped forward. Her fingers twitched, and her body was taut like a drawn bow. She had no intention of restraining her anger. At the same time, the young heir of the Ogon, Soro Ogon, also moved.

  Corvus studied them both from the corner of his eye. One was his betrothed, the other was someone he considered a friend. Yet at this moment, both had succumbed to their instincts, completely prepared for battle.

  Corvus clenched his jaw.

  “As if causing trouble at the council was not enough, now you are fighting in front of the Nabuks? Are you still children?!”

  Ilyada acted as if she had not heard him, pointing at Soro with blazing eyes.

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  “This bastard claims my family is nothing but the Tiamats’ leashed dogs! Step aside and let me leash this mutt myself!”

  Soro’s lips curled into a disdainful smirk. He tilted his head slightly and shrugged.

  “It seems you bark louder now that your man has arrived, Ilyada.”

  For a moment, the tension reached its breaking point.

  Ilyada’s fingers moved to the hilt of her weapon, and Soro’s hand shot to his sword at the same speed. But neither of them could draw their blades—because Corvus’ presence had descended upon them like a crushing force.

  The air grew heavy, an unseen power pinning them both in place. Yet the most striking detail was that Corvus’ crimson eyes were not locked onto Ilyada, but onto Soro.

  “Is what I heard true, Soro?!” Corvus’ voice echoed like a veiled threat. His steps were slow yet deliberate.

  “You know that the Iskat are our allies, and that an insult to them is an insult to us, do you not?”

  For the first time, the mocking light in Soro’s eyes dimmed. He hesitated as Corvus’ oppressive aura left him no room to escape.

  The tension behind the mansion was as thick as a battlefield waiting for the scent of blood.

  The tension behind the mansion had thickened like a battlefield waiting for the scent of blood. Soro Ogon’s eyes burned with fury. His fists were clenched, his shoulders tense. The anger in his voice made his words as sharp as blades.

  “This is all because of the Iskat bastards, Corvus!” he burst out.

  “The Iskats are challenging only our Sharazirs while ignoring the Tiamats or Nabuks! Do not tell me you did not know this!”

  Corvus furrowed his brows. He did not know this. Moreover, the idea that the Iskats were challenging the Sharazirs in an attempt to take their positions was complete nonsense. As a tribe that provided cavalry to the Rhazgord Army, the Iskats had never been fully integrated into the Sharazir system. Over centuries, only a handful of Iskat warriors had ever become Sharazir. It was not traditionally their path.

  However, Ilyada’s voice interrupted his thoughts. She stepped forward and shot a sharp glare at Soro.

  “I told you they are not Iskats, Soro!” she hissed.

  “The ones challenging you are warriors who left our tribe! They have nothing to do with us!”

  Corvus had heard some time ago that a group of tribeless warriors had begun challenging Sharazir positions. However, he had not known that they were of Iskat origin. Now, he had learned a piece of information he had not expected.

  Soro, on the other hand, let out a disbelieving laugh.

  “They have nothing to do with you? Bullshit!” he spat.

  “Do you expect me to believe that warriors skilled enough to become Sharazir just abandoned your tribe on a whim?!”

  His fury was overflowing from his eyes, and his voice was sharp enough to make those around him tremble. For the Ogons, becoming a Sharazir was one of the most prestigious titles in Rhazgord. And now, nameless warriors were emerging to steal that right.

  Ilyada’s breathing quickened. She took a step forward—so fast that, if Corvus had not grabbed her arm, she would have already launched herself at Soro.

  “Maybe the Ogons are too weak to even handle our average warriors!” she taunted.

  “Are you sure you know who is actually serving the Tiamats like a dog?!”

  The tension in the air exploded like a bolt of lightning. The sharp sound of metal rang out. Soro’s sword was already halfway drawn. His rage had become uncontrollable. At the same time, Corvus’ eyes gleamed. His reflexes had acted faster than thought. While gripping Ilyada’s arm firmly, he turned his face toward Soro.

  It was clear that his hands were ready to reach for the twin swords strapped to his back.

  “Put your sword away, Soro.” Corvus’ voice was as solid as stone.

  “Do not make me draw mine.”

  Soro hesitated for a moment. His chest rose and fell rapidly, his fist clenched tightly around the hilt of his sword. However, the threat in Corvus’ gaze made it clear that getting any closer would be a fatal mistake.

  Corvus turned his eyes to Ilyada. “Clearly, there is a misunderstanding here. But it is not our place to resolve it.” His gaze swept over everyone around them.

  “The elders will handle the matter. Now… either disperse, or I will make you disperse.”

  Soro gritted his teeth. He stood tall for a moment longer, but then he weighed the strength of the man standing before him. He and Corvus were of the same age, but the difference between them was like mountains. And most importantly, he knew that once Corvus drew his swords, he was unstoppable.

  At last, he buried his fury inside and took a few steps back. His gaze was still filled with anger, but his voice was calm.

  “This is not over.”

  The Ogons began retreating one by one after their leader. As the sound of their footsteps slowly faded, the Iskat youths also began to disperse in silence. However, even after everyone else had left, Ilyada still stood her ground.

  Corvus took a deep breath and turned to the warriors standing steadfast behind him. His sharp eyes were ready to catch even the slightest movement in the surroundings.

  “Make sure no one disturbs us.”

  The warriors moved without hesitation. The Nabuks, who had been watching the confrontation, left without pressing further. The other curious onlookers also disappeared quietly once they saw the cold stares of the Tiamat Guards.

  Even when everyone had left, and only Corvus and Ilyada remained, the tense atmosphere had not entirely dissipated. After making sure that no one was around, Corvus let out a deep sigh and turned to Ilyada.

  “What is going on? Why are you clashing with the Ogons?”

  The eyes that had burned with fury just moments ago were now filled with uncertainty. It was as if she herself did not fully understand what she was doing. Her lips parted, but for a moment, she had to think about how to phrase her response.

  “You know my father.” Her voice carried a mixture of mockery and disappointment.

  “Is it ever possible to understand what goes through that lunatic’s mind?”

  Corvus frowned. Things were becoming even more complicated. He knew there had never been a long-standing enmity between the Ogons and the Iskats. If the Iskats were truly trying to undermine the Ogons’ influence in the army, there had to be a much larger reason behind it.

  His gaze turned to the young woman before him with suspicion.

  “Aren’t you the heir? If you do not know these things, then who does?”

  For a moment, Ilyada’s eyes flickered evasively. She seemed to want to say something but was uncertain. After scanning the surroundings once more, she stepped closer. Her voice was so low that even the wind could not carry it away.

  “I am not the heir anymore. Khara is the heir now.”

  There was not the slightest change in Corvus’ expression, but inside, his thoughts were like a storm. He had not expected this.

  Ilyada’s brother was not someone who could rival her. He was weak, lacked ambition, and was used to living in the shadows. Moreover, the unspoken but absolute condition of Corvus and Ilyada’s marriage agreement was that Ilyada would be the heir. The Tiamats had never explicitly stated this, but it was what they expected from the Iskats. And now, that balance had been shattered.

  Seeing Corvus’ silence, Ilyada continued.

  “After returning from Bahoz, I refused to follow some of my father’s orders.” The arrogance and indifference in her voice briefly gave way to a hint of sorrow.

  “No one knows, but I am no longer the heir.”

  Corvus’ hand instinctively ran through his hair. Now this? He already had enough problems to deal with. Maintaining order in the Council, balancing the power dynamics between the tribes, finding the Lightstone traders, growing the intelligence organisation, dealing with the Brihmond issue, fixing the Rhazgord economy, implementing plans to change the Rhazgord... And now, there was the threat of the bond between the Iskats and the Tiamats breaking apart.

  Corvus lowered his gaze for a moment, trying to rapidly organize his thoughts.

  The relationship between the Iskats and the Tiamats was one of the key factors keeping the Tiamats at the top. If this alliance were to be broken, the balance of power among the tribes would collapse. And once chaos began, there was no certainty that the Tiamats would emerge victorious from the storm.

  Ilyada watched the young man’s face intently. Even in silence, she could see how many calculations Corvus was making. Finally, he took a deep breath and turned his gaze back to her.

  “I will speak with the elders.”

  His voice carried the same authority as always, but this time, there was a heavy weariness beneath it.

  “But until the council is over, I do not want any more problems. I am really busy, Ilyada.”

  Ilyada’s eyes narrowed slightly, but she did not object. She could sense that Corvus had no patience left for her.

  “Show some restraint and stay away from the Ogons.”

  Ilyada stared at Corvus in silence for a long time. Then, she slightly turned her head away. It was clear that her anger had not yet subsided, but at least for now, she seemed willing to remain quiet.

  Still, as Soro had said, this matter was far from over.