Upon returning to the Ember Circle's territories after his nights of solitary training, Lyrus found the camp abuzz with rumors. Scouts had brought word that emissaries of the Golden Serpent Sect were seen at the distant borders, observing from afar. The Golden Serpents—those whose betrayal had ignited HellSin's downfall centuries ago—still existed, powerful and cunning, with influence woven through distant courts and hidden alliances.
The Ember Circle had grown into a formidable force, its name known and respected. Villages, traders, and even lesser sects acknowledged their protection and order. Yet, compared to the sprawling Golden Serpent Sect, they were still a fresh contender. The Serpents were ancient, their roots sunk deep into the land's politics and economy. Their members were rumored to practice arts of deception and poison, winning battles before swords were drawn.
Kael and Alyra reported to Lyrus in a private council. "They've sent envoys to kingdoms," said Kael, pacing before the carved table. "They whisper that the HellSin name rises again, that your protection spreads too far, too fast. The Serpents are not pleased."
Alyra nodded. "They thrive on delicate balances of power. We are upsetting that balance."
Lyrus listened quietly. He had always known this day would come—the moment when the Ember Circle caught the attention of those who orchestrated the old HellSin downfall. But now, unlike his ancestors, he stood ready. His warriors were disciplined, his leadership trusted, and his power refined. The Ember Circle no longer cowered in the shadows; they walked openly in daylight, fearless.
"There will be no hasty provocations," Lyrus said at last, voice calm. "We observe. We learn. If the Golden Serpents wish to challenge us, we will meet them, but on our terms."
The council agreed. They dispatched discreet scouts and strengthened the borders. While no open conflict had ignited yet, the air crackled with tension. The Ember Circle had come far—from scattered outcasts to a coherent power rivaling even the Golden Serpents. The question was no longer if they would clash, but when. A century-old betrayal hung like a storm on the horizon, and both sides braced for its thunder.