"My Lord," a squire whispered, rushing into the room. "The Gold Mines... they are overflowing. Not with ore, but with a strange, crystalline energy. The scouts say it feels like a gift from the Ancients."
He stepped onto the balcony, overlooking the fledgling city. "Let the gates be opened," he commanded. "The knowledge of our survival and the strength of our magic shall be shared with all who seek refuge. No tolls, no barriers. Tell them the path to this new world is open to everyone, free of the old world's chains."
Lysander looked back at the map. In this new world, the old rules had changed. Heroes no longer sat safely behind their armies; they stood on the front lines, swords swinging alongside their crusaders, feeling every blow and every victory. This surge of energy felt like a second chance—a way for every soul in the kingdom to rise.