2025-09-08 11:54:23
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A Throne Taken Before Midnight
Xathanael’s declaration left the banquet hall silent long enough for the meaning to settle. Monorch was dead, Pedang Taiyang was in another man’s hand, and the white-robed Banxiang who had crossed the hall without resistance now intended to claim more than victory.The nobles did not object immediately. Strength had already decided who controlled the room, but dynastic habit remained powerful enough that several officials still believed lineage, ceremony, and court recognition gave them leverage.Whispers began near the side tables, first cautiously and then with growing confidence. One proud aristocrat frowned openly and said that Vellenor could not simply be handed to an outsider of unknown blood.A cautious minister repeated the same concern only after two peers moved closer around him, while an opportunistic official stayed silent and watched the room to see which side would dominate before choosing a pos
The Sword That Tempted an Angel
Xathanael’s hand closed behind Monorch’s neck before the king could complete his turn. Pedang Taiyang was still extended from the previous slash, and the awkward position left Monorch’s sword shoulder stretched forward while his spine and hips remained twisted in opposite directions.He tried to recover by drawing the blade back across his body. Xathanael tightened his grip first, locking the upper spine and disrupting the posture Monorch needed to redirect the sword’s weight, so the king’s arm moved only a fraction before the weapon became useless at such close range.For the first time that night, Monorch understood the difference between possessing a great artifact and possessing the strength to use it freely. Pedang Taiyang had allowed him to threaten a Banxiang from proper distance, but once his stance collapsed and his sword arm lost room, the weapon could no longer protect his throat or restore his balanc
The Sun Sword Against a Banxiang
Monorch stood near the royal dais with Pedang Taiyang angled across his body, while Xathanael remained on the banquet floor several meters away. The three defeated royal guards were still down near the edge of the cleared space, and nobles had retreated behind tables, pillars, and the nearest exits without daring to leave.Monorch’s cultivation had risen sharply since the days when his remaining soul had survived by taking another body. Intensive martial training among the Demon people in Eshera had pushed him far beyond his earlier limits, although Almaria’s magic-heavy environment had slowed his progress toward the higher Dao realms.He had rebuilt himself after dying once, and that history mattered more to him than he ever admitted. The memory of being killed by Guo Jiang remained his deepest humiliation, but he had spent years convincing himself that the defeat had come only from carelessness rather than a true gap in strengt
Three Blades, One Finger
The banquet hall had become a battlefield before most guests understood what was happening. Monorch remained near the royal dais with the dark sword in hand, while Xathanael stood in the open floor several meters below him and the three royal guards formed a practiced triangle around the intruder.Guard One held the front-left position roughly six meters away. Guard Two stood farther to the right, close enough to close the center line, while Guard Three remained slightly behind Xathanael at a lower angle that would punish any retreat toward the side corridor.Tables and chairs limited movement near the perimeter. Servants and musicians pressed themselves against the walls, while nobles withdrew behind pillars or crowded toward the safest gaps between banquet tables.The three guards did not exchange shouted instructions. Their footwork had clearly been drilled together often enough that each understood when the others in
A Feast Where Everyone Smiled
King Monorch entered the banquet hall to the sound of drums and lowered strings. Every noble, minister, officer, and invited guest rose before he reached the royal dais, while servants along the walls lowered their eyes and kept their hands still around trays of wine.“Long live King Monorch!”The first cheer came from a minister near the front who shouted loudly enough to prove enthusiasm. Others followed because remaining silent would be remembered more clearly than sincerity. An older noble moved his lips without matching the volume around him, while a young courtier watched the man beside him and copied every gesture half a breath late.Monorch enjoyed the display. He smiled broadly whenever the cheers became louder, and his gaze lingered on anyone whose response seemed slower than the rest. To him, fear and loyalty were useful precisely because he rarely cared which one had produced the obedience.
Music Above the Dungeon
Torredorm Palace became busiest in the hours before sunset. While the underground cells remained cold and dim, kitchens above them filled with steam, servants carried wine jars and lacquered trays through long corridors, and musicians repeated the same ceremonial passages until every transition matched the order expected by the royal household.The contrast between the palace and the city outside was difficult to ignore. Food enough to feed several streets was being prepared for one evening, yet servants still spoke carefully whenever King Monorch’s name entered the conversation. Fine carpets and bright lanterns could hide poverty from a banquet guest, but they could not hide fear from people who worked under the same roof every day.Near the kitchens, one young servant nearly dropped a tray when a supervisor called her name. An older woman caught the edge before the cups fell and whispered that a broken cup would cost more than wages
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