Three days had passed since the devastating battle that carved a scar into the heart of the Western Quarter. The dust had settled, but the political storm was only beginning to gather.
The Kingdom of Velmora: The Throne Room
The grand hall of Velmora was silent, save for the rhythmic clicking of boots against polished marble.
Roric Alfred, the current King and SSS-rank Knight, stood before a tall, weathered man seated on a secondary throne—the Previous King.
Roric's face was a mask of cold fury. He looked at his father, the weight of the last three days visible in the shadows beneath his eyes.
"Father, all kings are gone, and I have come to say you something," Roric said, his voice echoing in the hollow chamber.
The Previous King looked up, his brow furrowed with concern.
"What is it, son?"
Roric exhaled, his hand tightening on the hilt of his blade.
"My lord, we found the person who did this all. But we can't take him... as I haven't told you yet, Master Maren is with him."
The Previous King's face went pale. He stood up so abruptly his chair nearly toppled.
"What!!! Maren Walberd?!"
A ripple of terror went through the knights standing guard along the walls. Their grips on their spears faltered. The mere mention of that name was enough to make the air in the room feel thin.
"Father, he protected that creature," Roric continued, his voice trembling with suppressed rage. "And also, his name is Markil... that creature."
The Previous King staggered, his legs giving way until he sank back onto his knees on the dais.
"If that is what you are saying, so we should abandon this mission immediately. Because we can't... we can't fight him! Roric, you know—not only us, everyone knows. Every kingdom knows! Because you know he is death himself! And don't you know he was also your teacher?"
Roric's head snapped up. His yellow eyes glowed with a sudden, violent intensity. He looked toward his father with a look of pure, unadulterated anger.
"I don't care if he even is my teacher, father!" Roric roared. "I want that Markil creature dead! That bastard! And father... he is also like us. He is a human!"
"Are you mad or something?!" the Previous King shouted back, his voice cracking with fear. "You are thinking to go against Maren Walberd?!"
BOOM.
In a sudden, violent surge, Roric's aura exploded. It wasn't the aura of a protector; it was a crushing wave of golden, suffocating pressure. The knights along the walls didn't even have time to gasp before they collapsed, falling unconscious where they stood.
The Previous King gasped, his eyes rolling back as the sheer weight of Roric's power bore down on him.
Roric lunged forward, grabbing his father's shoulders. The older man's head slumped, his consciousness fading under the strain of his son's fury.
"I don't care!" Roric shouted into the empty, silent room. "I want that piece of shit dead!"
The Kingdom of Emberfall: The Royal Court
Miles away, in the fiery heart of the Kingdom of Emberfall, Sasha Wamen walked toward her own father's throne. The heat in the room was oppressive, fueled by the lava pits that lined the hall.
She stopped at the foot of the throne and bowed deeply.
"My lord, greetings."
The King of Emberfall, a man with eyes like burning coals, smiled down at her.
"My little girl... have you succeeded in the job?"
Sasha closed her eyes for a moment. The image of Markil flashed in her mind—the way he had caught her flaming fist and Roric's blade simultaneously without breaking a sweat.
The memory of his cold, red eyes beneath the broken mask sent a shiver down her spine.
"My lord," Sasha said, her voice steady but grim. "We can't take him."
The King's smile vanished instantly.
"What? What are you saying?"
"Sorry, but we can't," Sasha replied.
The King slammed his fist onto the arm of his throne.
"Why?! What is the problem? Didn't I tell you my plan?!"
"He has Maren Walberd on his side!" Sasha shouted.
The room went deathly silent. The King froze, his hand still resting on the scorched wood of his throne.
Suddenly, Sasha's own aura flared—a flickering, intense heat that mirrored the agitation in her heart.
He is also a human like us, but his skills... she thought, remembering the brutal strength of Markil's grip.
She saw Maren standing in front of the boy, shielding the world's greatest threat.
"What are you?!" the King hissed, his teeth clenching so hard they threatened to shatter.
That bastard... her Master, the King thought, his mind racing with bitterness.
Whatever I do, we can't try to fight with him. That asshole. I was also against this plan that we will inform Maren that we are trying to find that creature. My plan was simple: get that creature on our side, use him to kill Roric and take his kingdom. That person—Maren—wouldn't have known! After all, he is just traveling from kingdom to kingdom. What else could he do?
He looked at the floor, his eyes dark with greed and frustration.
But that's for sure... he could kill us all if he wants. But I don't know why... if I had power like him, I would have already killed the kings of the neighboring kingdoms! I would have taken all the kingdoms, all the gold... and all the elves.
The King looked up, his gaze landing on Sasha. His expression shifted into one of cold, calculating disdain.
Ooo, what else job should I give this bitch? This daughter of mine...
A slow, sickening smile spread across his face.
"Sasha," he said softly.
Sasha looked up, her purple-and-pink hair catching the orange light of the embers.
(Chapter 53 Finished)