Chapter 180: Reduced To Ash
The grand hall of the imperial court was filled with rows of stern-faced courtiers on either side. At the center of it all, seated upon the towering golden throne, was Emperor Edgar Crawford Haynes. It was a normal court scenario, only with the difference of the heir-apparent who stood at the front of the rows of courtiers—Althea.
Edgar's cold gaze bore into the guards kneeling below him. Their heads were bowed in shame, and their bodies were trembling in fear. They were the guards who had failed in their duty to prevent Princess Maria from escaping.
The emperor did not take kindly to failures, and it was a known fact. Neither was he known to have occasional streaks of mercy. All those poor soldiers were praying for was to be spared alive, even if it meant getting exiled to the borders.
"Your incompetence has brought shame upon the imperial family," Edgar's voice boomed, echoing through the vast chamber. "You failed to guard a single hostage—a woman, no less. You let an intruder barge into your territory without any knowledge of it. Tell me, why should you not be flayed alive for your failures? What if that intruder had taken the perfect opportunity to harm someone?"
One of the guards attempted to stammer an apology, but Edgar raised a hand, silencing him immediately. "It's decided. You all will be executed by a firing squad at first light." His expression darkened, his lips curling into a contemptuous sneer. "Let this be a lesson to all who serve that failures will not be tolerated."
The soldiers accepted their fate with defeat. Their wish wasn't granted, it appears.
Just then, from the side of the room, a strong defiance came, "That is such a cruel punishment for something that wasn't even in their control!"
Everyone's eyes turned to the pink-haired girl, standing with her hands bound in iron cuffs. She was dressed in a plain white gown that hung loosely on her slender frame, looking nothing like the princess she grew up as.
"It wasn't their fault," she interjected, her voice steady but desperate. "Anybody who was in their position would have done the same thing. And not to mention, until then, they have been very careful in their duties!"
A murmur spread through the nobles, eyes darting from Maria to Edgar. They were impressed at the boldness of the Haberland's Princess. They all had thought she was just a good-natured, docile girl. It turns out she had some fire in her as well.
However, the one thing that Edgar disliked more than failures was women daring to raise their voices in front of him.
"Silence!" The emperor roared, his gaze snapping to Maria like a viper coiling to strike. "If you value what little comfort you get in Haynes, you will shut your mouth, Princess. Or would you prefer to spend the rest of your life here rotting in the dungeons below?"
Maria's defiance flickered, and her lips pressed into a thin line. Her eyes met Althea's briefly, and that made her lower her gaze.
A resigned heaviness settled over Maria. There was no point in arguing at this point when she was already on Edgar's bad side now. But how could she stay quiet as innocent soldiers' lives were sacrificed for the sake of their plan?
She was sure that her family would be ashamed of her if she backed down. Yes, she was peace-loving, but she wasn't a coward.
Seeing the small flicker of fire in Maria's eyes once again, Edgar's expression twisted his otherwise regal features into something dark and sinister.
With a casual flick of his wrist, he muttered an incantation under his breath. His rings glowed as rippling energy flowed from his hand, weaving through the air like a snake until it wrapped around Maria.
Suddenly, Maria gasped. Her body was being crushed as an invisible force constricted her.
She struggled to breathe, her eyes wide with panic as she felt her throat tighten. It was as if a big phantom hand was squeezing the life out of her.
The courtiers watched with a casual expression as though it was an everyday court scenario.
"Now," Edgar's voice was a low hiss, "why don't you tell me, if it isn't the soldiers' fault as you claim, whose fault is it? Who is the intruder who helped you escape? Speak the name, or I will crush the very breath from your lungs."
Maria's face contorted with pain, but she refused to yield. She struggled to form rehearsed words, which were merely the words, "I... I don't know. I don't know that person. He… he was just sent to help me out of there."
"And who sent him? Your family?"
As Edgar asked that question, the silence that followed was suffocating. Althea finally decided it was time to step forward from her place, lest Maria's bones were crushed beyond repair. It was her responsibility to safeguard her, after all.
"Your Imperial Majesty," Althea spoke smoothly, "I doubt the princess will so easily reveal the name, even under duress. She is more stubborn than that." She paused, allowing a small, sly smile to form on her lips. "But perhaps, if you allow me, I could... persuade her. I will make sure we know the truth when I am done."
Edgar considered her words for a moment, his dark eyes flicking between Althea and Maria. Finally, he gave a slow nod, a twisted smile spreading across his face, letting go of Maria from the spell. "Very well, Crown Princess. I leave it to you, then."
Althea accepted her duty and ordered some of the guards to lead Maria to the dungeons when she was done here.
Maria, on the other hand, pretended to be shivering. She knew Althea's suggestion was a ploy, a way to buy her time. There was no way Althea would actually torture Maria.
As for those guards, Edgar settled on firing them and awarding them a fine that would take them their entire lives to pay back. Why bother killing them uselessly when you can just milk them for some extra gold coins? Althea's suggestion, obviously.
As the court session drew to a close, Edgar dismissed the guards with a wave of his hand, who were just happy to be spared, even if it meant going into a miserable fine with the imperial family.
The emperor descended from his throne, moving along the red carpet that stretched out before him. His two Aura knights, Wyatt and Storm, trailed behind him like shadows, quietly as usual.
But as they reached out of the imperial court and stepped into the grand corridor, a deafening explosion shattered the quietness.
The shockwave ripped through the air, blowing apart a massive section of the palace from the throne.
Stone, marble, and shattered glass rained down, sending the courtiers diving for cover, while Wyatt and Storm instinctively blocked any debris coming towards their sire.
A plume of smoke and dust filled the chamber, and for a moment, chaos reigned.
"What the hell was that? An assassination attempt on the emperor?" Althea let out, her voice furious with anger.
"Thank goodness, whatever that was, it missed His Imperial Majesty," Storm murmured, a little relieved.
"Don't leave Sire's side," ordered the Captain of the Imperial Order of Aura, Wyatt, and ran in the direction of mass destruction, stepping the chunks of debris and disappearing into the smoke.
"Seal all the entrances to the imperial grounds! Do not let anybody in or out!" Althea barked out, and all the soldiers nearby sprang into action. "And call for the imperial medics! There are several people injured!"
All the chaos was only white noises to Edgar who stared in horror. He was seeing the throne he loved so much in ruins. He couldn't care less about the courtiers who were now bleeding and covered in debris. It was the loss of his favorite chair that was bothering him the most until…
His horror soon twisted into panic.
A sudden, chilling realization dawned on him—he felt no power surging from his rings anymore. Even as he tried to remove a piece of debris from someone, it didn't move an inch. It was like his connection to the mana supply was severed.
"No, no, no. That can't be…"
Panic flickered in his eyes, and without a second thought, he sprinted toward the source of the blast. His heart pounded with a dread he hadn't felt in years.
He reached the charred remains of what once was a hidden chamber behind the heavy curtains. His breath was coming in ragged gasps by the time he reached there. He was expecting to find Wyatt, but he was nowhere in sight. Rather, he was left to examine what lay ahead of him. Among the wreckage, he saw two blackened bodies, barely recognizable.
Edgar's face contorted with terror. One of the bodies had five rings on his fingers—the same ones as Edgar's. There was no doubt who it was—Aster. And the other body must belong to the Aura Knight who was in charge of guarding Edgar's mana source—Raith.
"No... NO!" Edgar's scream tore through the smoky air, his voice laced with anguish and fury.
His source of power—his carefully guarded secret, his lifeline—was gone, reduced to ash before his very eyes.
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