The northern route was Talrakia’s lifeline, a path carved through stone and deep canyons. But lately, it had become a nightmare. Bandits from Eiskalt had been raiding caravans and causing people to disappear, which was wrecking the city's economy. Nashr wasn't about to let that slide.

He arrived at the scene of the latest attack just as the sun was coming up. It was a mess. Overturned wagons and bodies were scattered everywhere, and smoke was still rising from the bandits' campfires. Nashr dismounted, his calm exterior barely masking a hidden tension. The scent of blood and death hung heavy in the air. His amethyst eyes swept the surroundings. He checked the ground and saw fresh tracks, noting that they hadn't gone far.

"They’re not getting away," he muttered to himself.

He moved fast, climbing the cliffs with graceful yet deadly movements as he followed the trail of footprints and blood. His muscular frame moved nimbly among the rocks. Before long, he found them. There were about twenty men laughing and passing around stolen goods. They were definitely Eiskalt bandits, judging by the fox symbols on their armor.

A thin smile touched Nashr’s lips. It was the smile of a predator.

Without warning, he attacked. His eyes flashed gold, and a bolt of golden light shot from his palm, knocking one man backward into the rocks. The rest of them panicked instantly.

"Who are you?!" one shouted, struggling to draw his sword.

Nashr didn't answer. He was a shadow, moving too fast for them to see. His spiritual power formed a golden shield that deflected their arrows. The spirit lion, invisible to the eye but felt by all, roared in his mind, granting him multiplied strength and speed.

He shaped his golden light into a long whip, wrapping it around two bandits before slamming them into the stone. Then, he condensed the energy into a blade, striking with lethal precision. He was brutal and efficient. This wasn't a game. It was a matter of the safety of his people, and he acted as both judge and executioner.

The remaining bandits began to scream in terror and tried to flee, but the canyon had become their trap. Nashr pursued them. In just a few minutes, it was over. Every bandit was either incapacitated or dead. Nashr stood there, not even out of breath, covered in dust and blood. His eyes, which had been glowing gold, slowly returned to their natural amethyst. He checked the area one last time to make sure the road was safe.

"Problem solved," he said, his voice flat.

Nashr lowered his golden energy sword and absorbed the energy back into his body. With a calm pace, he headed back to his horse, leaving the mess behind.

When Nashr walked back into the palace, he still looked like he’d just come from a war zone. He was covered in desert dust and smelled of blood. He was enveloped in an undeniable aura of dominance. He had that "don't mess with me" energy that made every servant and soldier he passed look at the floor, feeling the heavy weight of the King’s presence.

Rasyid, in his dark robes and signature headpiece, was waiting in the main hall. He bowed briefly. "Your Majesty, the northern trade route is clear now that the Eiskalt bandits have been eliminated," Rasyid reported. "I will provide the full paperwork for you later."

Nashr nodded. "Good work, Rasyid. Fix the damage and double the security." He waved his hand, dismissing his right-hand man.

Nashr wanted to go straight to the east wing, where Entya’s greenhouse was located. He craved the peace and the scent of life that always greeted him there. However, noticing his blood-stained cloak and the sticky remnants of battle on his skin, he stopped. He didn't want her to see him like this.

"Rasyid," Nashr said, his voice a bit softer. "Before you go, prepare some rare seeds and tree saplings from the southeast and send them to Entya’s greenhouse."

Rasyid looked confused but simply nodded and left. Nashr headed to the baths in the west wing. He scrubbed himself thoroughly, letting the warm water wash away the grime and the scent of blood, trying to erase the traces of battle.

Once refreshed, Nashr finally headed east. The air grew cooler the closer he got to the greenhouse. The scent of damp earth and blooming flowers caressed his senses. As he opened the door, a faint smile appeared on his lips. He found Entya sitting in the middle of her "jungle." Her charcoal hair was half-loose and half-braided, shimmering under the light from the glass roof. She was hanging out with Gerel, and they were busy eating fruit.

"Nashr!" Entya yelled, her larimar eyes sparkling the moment she saw him. She waved a peach at him that she had just bitten into. "You're here! Gerel just arrived. We're eating today’s harvest."

Gerel nodded politely to Nashr. "Welcome back, Your Majesty. I heard your journey was quite difficult."

Entya didn't even give him a chance to answer. "Oh, I have to thank you, Nashr! The seeds from the southeast arrived. I’ve already started planting them." She pointed to small pots nearby. Then, without hesitation, she held out a whole peach to him. "Here, try it! It’s the best one I picked today!"

Nashr took the fruit, his hand brushing against hers. He took a bite. The fresh sweetness immediately filled his mouth, washing away all the stress of the morning. It was sweet, he thought. Even sweeter than the dates he had once given her.

"I also have apples, melons, and some wild berries I just planted!" Entya continued excitedly, gesturing to the baskets around her. "Want to try something else? I picked them all myself this morning!"

Nashr just chuckled and shook his head. The sweet aroma of fruit and Entya’s own scent surrounded him, creating a perfect oasis. He looked at the nomad girl who had turned his stone palace into a forest and felt his tension melt away. She was exactly what he needed after a long day of being King. Entya was an unexpected breath of fresh air.

Outside in the hallway, Rasyid stood in the main corridor. Around him, several palace staff members, including courtiers, advisors, and department heads, had gathered. Their eyes were all fixed on one spot. It was the door to the greenhouse, which now looked more like a tropical jungle.

They all looked terrified. Nashr, the dominant and pragmatic ruler of Talrakia, was showing a completely different side. His consistently good mood, even under a mountain of royal duties, made them uneasy.

"I’ve never seen His Majesty like this," a guard captain whispered. "Even when we won the great battle at the eastern border, he wasn't this cheerful."

"That nomad girl," a financial advisor added, shaking his head. "She has completely changed the King."

Rasyid listened and secretly agreed. The smiles and laughter coming from Nashr lately felt strange and even threatening to those who had served him long. They were used to a King who was cold, strict, and predictable. This new, "chilled out" Nashr was unpredictable, which made them nervous. They didn't know how to act around their leader.

Suddenly, the greenhouse door swung open. Cool air and the scent of wet leaves and sweet flowers spilled out. Nashr walked out looking satisfied, with a bit of dirt on his robes and a small smile on his face. The staff instantly froze and bowed as low as they could. Rasyid just watched him closely.

As soon as Nashr saw them, his smile died. In a split second, he went from "happy guy" back to "terrifying King." His eyes went cold and his posture stiffened. The warm vibe was gone, replaced by pure authority.

"What is it?" he asked, his voice sharp enough to cut glass. "Is there a problem that cannot wait?"

The staff swallowed hard. The scary, dominant Nashr was back. The sudden change was so intense it made their skin crawl. They were still afraid of him, but at least this version of Nashr made sense to them.