Derion's eyes locked onto the face behind him. For a moment, the world narrowed. The battle below faded. The shouting, the steel, the fire, all of it pulled away until there was nothing left but the man holding the blade inside him.
William, hiss hand, his trusted man.
Derion's lips parted. Blood slipped out, slow and thick. "Why?" he gasped. The word came out broken, dragged through pain and disbelief.
William did not pull the blade out. He held it there, steady. His face was tight, jaw clenched, eyes burning with something that had been waiting far too long.
"Because," William said, his voice low but clear, "you forcefully took and had sex with my niece." The words landed heavier than the blade.
For a brief second, something flickered across Derion's face.
Recognition. Then, nothing. No apology. No regret. Just a faint tightening of his jaw, as though the accusation was an inconvenience more than a crime.
William saw it. His grip hardened. "You have no respect," he continued, louder now, his voice carrying across the wall. "No shame for anyone."
His eyes swept over the soldiers nearby. Men who had served the king. Men who had watched. Men who had stayed silent. "You deserve to die."
Silence fell.
Not complete. But enough. The palace soldiers froze. Some still held their swords raised. Others stood mid-motion, caught between command and confusion.
No one moved. No one spoke. William turned to them slowly, and carefully. His voice changed. Not softer, but sharper. "Drop your blade," he said.
No one obeyed.
The weight of habit held them in place. The years of obedience. The fear of consequence.
William took a step forward, dragging Derion slightly with him. The king's feet stumbled against the stone, leaving a thin trail of blood. "And open the gate."
The hesitation stretched..A few soldiers glanced at each other. Others looked toward Aturo's empty position. Some looked at the king.
Waitingz and hoping for an order. Derion tried to speak. His lips moved, but only a wet sound came out.
William's voice cut through again.."Do you think the king cares about you?"
That hit. Heads turned. Eyes shifted. William's gaze hardened. "How many of your wives have been defiled?"
The question hung there. No one answered. But the silence changed. It was no longer obedience. It was memory. A man near the edge lowered his gaze. Another's grip on his sword loosened.
A third swallowed hard, his jaw tightening as something unspoken surfaced.
William did not rush. He let it sit. He let it grow.
Then, a sword dropped. The sound rang louder than it should have.
Clang.
Every head turned. The man who dropped it did not look up. Another followed. Then another. One by one, blades hit the ground.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The line broke. Not with noise, but with surrender.
William exhaled slowly. "Open the gate." This time, they moved. Hands reached for the mechanisms. The heavy iron chains rattled. The gate groaned as it began to lift.
Slow at first, then faster. The gap widened. Outside, Robert saw it. And he did not hesitate. He leaned forward slightly. That was enough.
His horse surged ahead, charging through the opening as soon as it was wide enough. His men followed, pouring into the palace like a flood that had finally found its path.
The courtyard filled with movement instantly. Boots struck stone. Orders were shouted. Resistance was crushed before it could form.
The palace had fallen. Aturo returned at that moment. He and his men carried jars.
Dark, and heavy. The black water. They stopped. Surrounded. Their own soldiers stood around them now, weapons raised, eyes uncertain but firm.
Aturo's chest rose sharply. He looked from face to face. There was no loyalty left there. Only decision.
Slowly his shoulders dropped. The jars felt heavier in his hands. Behind them, William tightened his grip on Derion.
"Bring the king down." He did not wait for assistance. He dragged him..Step by step..Down the stairs. Derion's body resisted. Not with strength, but with weight. His legs no longer moved properly. Blood marked every step they took.
When they reached the ground, Robert was already there. Waiting, and watching.
Derion lifted his head slightly. His eyes found Robert. For a moment, something like pride flickered through the pain.
Then he chuckled. Weak, and broken. "You think." he struggled to breathe, "you have won."
Blood slipped from the corner of his mouth. "but my sons" His chest tightened. "…will avenge me."
Robert's smile did not fade. Not even a little. "Do not worry about them," he said calmly. The words were too calm. Too easy. "They are being taken care of right now."
He paused. Just enough. "I believe they must all be dead by now." The words struck deeper than any blade.
Derion's eyes widened.nNot fully. Just enough to show it landed.nHis breath hitched. His mind tried to grasp it.
His sons might be dead? The thought twisted inside him, sharper than the pain in his chest.
Then, his body jerked. Once, then twice..His mouth opened. No words came. Then his breath stopped. Just like that.
The king was gone. The body went still. The weight of him sagged in William's grip. For a brief moment, no one moved. Then Robert straightened slightly. "Secure the city," he said.
His voice carried easily. Firm, and final. "No one goes in or out except by my command."
His men moved instantly. Orders spread. Positions were taken. Control tightened. The war in Kings' City was over.
Meanwhile, at Dragon City, the air felt wrong. Too quiet in some places. Too loud in others. Dereek stood still, his sword hanging loosely in his hand.
His eyes moved across the battlefield. Men fighting. Men falling. Steel clashing. Everything looked normal. Except it wasn't. Something was missing. He felt it. Deep, and unsettling.
All his life, dragons had been there. Above him. Behind him. With him. But now, nothing. No roar. No shadow. No fire. Just silence where power used to live.
His grip tightened slightly. "We will not win this battle," he whispered.
Domion stood beside him, breathing hard, his sword stained. He shook his head. "Maybe, but we are no cowards," Domion said. "We should fight till we die."
Dereek shook his head slowly. "If they attack father the way they have attacked us…"
He paused.
The thought formed before he could stop it. "…then he is most likely dead." The words settled heavily. Domion's jaw tightened. Dereek turned to him fully now. "I need you to escape," he said.
Domion's brows furrowed. "With two dragon eggs." That made him freeze. "Find Drexo," Dereek continued, his voice firm now. "And run till the egg is hatch."
Domion shook his head immediately. "No." There was no hesitation. No doubt. "You want me to leave you behind now? I will never do that."
Dereek's expression hardened. Around them, Edmond and his men stood ready. Watching, and waiting. Edmond tilted his head slightly, a faint smile playing on his lips.
"What are you talking about?" he asked mockingly. Then his face changed. The smile vanished. "Attack." The word dropped. And the Northern men surged forward. The ground shook under their charge.
Steel rose..Shields slammed. Dereek moved instantly. He grabbed Domion. Then Theon, abd pulled them back.
Hard.
"If we all die here," he said quickly, his voice cutting through the chaos, "the Dragarian lineage will be cut off from Astarous."
He pushed them toward the rear. "You must leave." His eyes locked onto theirs. "Two of you. Find Drexo and go into hiding till your dragons are hatch and fully grown."
Domion opened his mouth to argue. But Dereek roared. "Leave now!" The command hit like a strike. "No argument." His voice dropped. "It is an order." That settled it. Domion's jaw tightened. Theon grabbed his arm. They turned, and ran. Straight toward Dragon Bay. Behind them, the battle closed in.
Steel clashed louder. Men shouted. Bodies fell. Inside the bay, they moved quickly. No hesitation. They grabbed two dragon eggs, carefully placing them into a bag.
The weight of them felt heavier than it should. Not just stone. Not just life.
Legacy.
They didn't speak. They ran. Out the back gate. The noise followed them. The screams. The clash of steel. The sound of something ending.
They mounted their horses. And rode, fast. Away from everything.
Back on the battlefield, Dereek stood alone now. Facing Edmond. The difference between them was clear. Not in size. Not in stance. In certainty.
Edmond moved like a man who had done this many times. Who had won many times. The sword of Odin rested in his hand.
Silent, deadly, and unbeaten.
Dereek knew it. He felt it. Still, he stepped forward. He lunged.
Fast, and desperate.
Edmond moved easily. Dodged. Turned. Their blades met. Once, and twice.
Sparks flew. Dereek struck again.
Wild, and driven.
Edmond countered. Clean, and precise. His blade cut into Dereek's ribs. A sharp line of pain tore through him. But he didn't stop. He swung again.
Edmond shifted. Another strike. This time lower. The blade cut into Dereek's heel. His leg buckled slightly. But he stayed up. Still fighting. Still pushing. Still refusing to fall.
For a moment, it almost looked like defiance could change something. Then, Edmond moved fast, and decisive.
The blade drove forward. Straight into Dereek's heart. Everything stopped. Dereek's body stiffened. His sword slipped from his hand. His breath caught. Then faded. He fell. The ground met him hard.
Still, Edmond pulled the blade free..He turned immediately. No pause. No reflection.
"Find Domion," he said. His voice was cold, and certain.
"Theon."
A brief pause. "And Drexo." His eyes hardened. "They must all die."