A group of knights walked through a narrow trail between two tall mountains. The cold wind brushed past their armor as dust rose under their boots. They were the elite knights of Ruthiana, sent to the North Tableau to guard the hidden treasure that few even knew existed.

"How much farther?" asked Gareth, the commander, his voice calm but firm.

"Sir, it's a little ahead," one of the knights replied.

Gareth frowned. "Where are the scouts we sent earlier?"

"Sir, we haven't received any signal from them yet."

His expression hardened. "Where did they go without reporting?" he muttered under his breath.

One of the younger knights hesitated before speaking. "Sir, what if... they took the relics and ran away?"

The others went silent hearing this.

The thought alone made everyone uneasy. Greed could easily overtake any man when faced with the promise of power. The treasure hidden in the Dragon's Nest was said to hold enough wealth and power to raise a new empire.

No one wanted to believe their comrades could betray them, but the temptation was too great to ignore.

Gareth's eyes turned sharp. "Everyone, speed up," he ordered.

The knights immediately moved faster, their armor clanking in rhythm. The narrow path opened slightly as they advanced. From afar, they saw what looked like a flat plateau which was the remains of a mountain that had once stood tall.

But when they reached closer, they froze.

A huge crater stretched across the land, wide and deep. Inside it, gold shimmered faintly under the sun, scattered like sand across the ground. In the center of the crater lay a giant carcass.

It was the remains of a dragon.

Even though it was lifeless, a chilling aura still came from its body, thick and oppressive.

However, the knights' attention soon shifted to the outer edge of the crater.

Gareth's face darkened. A formation of soldiers stood there, their armor shining in the light. At their center flew a flag that did not belong to Ruthiana.

"Frontiers," Gareth whispered, his voice low and full of anger.

Then his voice broke out in a furious roar. "FRONTIERSSSS!"

The men from Ruthiana looked in disbelief.

Bodies of their fallen comrades were hanging from wooden poles at the front line, swaying gently in the cold wind. The sight filled them with rage.

At that moment, a mocking laugh echoed from afar.

"Hohohoho!"

A man riding a large mountain goat appeared from between the rocks. His armor was dark, and his face carried a smug smile.

"Well, well... look who we have here," he said in a teasing tone. "Our friendly neighbors from Ruthiana. It seems you've also come for the treasure. How unfortunate for you."

He stroked his thin mustache, his eyes glinting with arrogance.

"We must apologize," he said mockingly. "But this land now belongs to the Frontier Kingdom. Any further step from you will be seen as an act of aggression."

"Bastards of Frontier!" Gareth shouted furiously. "You dare trespass on our land and kill my men? Do you want war?"

"War?" the man laughed loudly, throwing his head back. "Hahaha! Do you think I'm afraid of your tiny army? We came prepared."

"Damn you!" Gareth roared, his rage breaking free. He drew his sword with a loud metallic ring.

"Knights of Ruthiana!" he shouted. "Make these bastards pay for their sins. Don't let a single one of them escape!"

The knights raised their weapons, their battle cries filling the air.

The Frontier commander grinned and lifted his sword. "This land belongs to us! Kill every Ruthian who dares to touch it!"

"Fight!" he yelled.

In the next instant, both sides charged forward.

Steel clashed against steel.

The sound of swords meeting echoed through the valley like thunder. Knights struck with all their might, swinging their blades and smashing shields. Horses neighed and reared as arrows whistled through the air, piercing armor and flesh alike.

Blood splattered across the ground. A Ruthian knight drove his spear through an enemy's chest, only to be struck down by a blade moments later.

The mountain trail became a field of chaos with men shouting, swords clanging, and bodies falling one after another.

Gareth fought at the front, cutting down two enemies in a single swing. His armor was stained red, and his breath was heavy, but his eyes were burning with fury.

"Push forward!" he yelled, his voice raw.

But the Frontiers were just as fierce. Their soldiers fought back with wild strength, refusing to retreat. The ground shook under their feet as the battle grew even bloodier.

Hours passed, and the sun began to sink behind the mountains. The valley was now filled with the stench of blood and smoke.

Corpses lay scattered everywhere of Ruthiana and Frontier soldiers.

By evening, the noise finally started to fade. The surviving Ruthian soldiers stood among the fallen, their faces pale and weary. The battle was won, but barely. Their victory had come at a terrible cost.

At the center of the field, Gareth knelt beside a wounded knight. His own body was bruised and bleeding, his sword broken at the hilt.

"Sir, are you alright?" a soldier asked, rushing over.

Gareth coughed and waved his hand weakly. "Give me a potion."

The soldier handed him a small glass bottle. Gareth took it and drank it down. Slowly, the color returned to his face, and the bleeding stopped.

"Sir…" the knight said softly with tears forming in his eyes.

"Don't be sad," Gareth said with a tired smile.

"Losses like this are normal in war. No one will blame you."

He gave a bitter laugh. "Normal, huh?"

He looked at the battlefield, where the smoke still rose into the evening sky.

His voice grew quiet. The last rays of sunlight fell over the dead, casting long shadows across the valley.

"This isn't over; rather this is the beginning.The knights who escaped will surely bring back the news.*

None of them knew that this bloody fight, what seemed like a small border clash, would soon lead to something far worse than anyone expected.

The spark of this battle would spread like fire, burning across Ruthiana and beyond, changing the fate of many kingdoms forever.

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