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CHAPTER 74
Nightfall ReckoningNight fell heavy over the capital, thick with smoke and unspoken fear.From the broken rooftops beyond the outer district, Lian watched the palace outpost rise like a dark tooth against the horizon. Torches burned along its walls, their flames trembling in the cold wind. Guards paced with restless energy, unaware that tonight would not pass quietly. Behind Lian, the rebels waited in silence.Not an army.Not yet.But something stronger than numbers — belief.Tonight was not about victory.It was about proof.Proof that the crown could bleed.Proof that fear could change sides.Lian lowered his hood and turned to them. Moonlight caught the faint shadow marks along his arm, now calmer — controlled — but never fully silent.“This is not war,” he said quietly. “This is a message.”A murmur passed through the rebels.Serah stepped forward, eyes sharp. “We strike fast. No drawn battle. No unnecessary deaths.” Kade checked his blades. “Disable their signal tower first. If
CHAPTER 73
The Blood PriceMira’s breathing was wrong.Too shallow. Too uneven. Like every breath scraped against something sharp inside her chest. Lian sat beside her on the narrow cot, his hands clenched so tightly his knuckles had gone white. The safehouse was silent except for the faint drip of water from the cracked ceiling and the sound of her struggling breaths. Shadows pressed close to the walls, restless, agitated—responding to him.Responding to her.“Mira,” he whispered. “Stay with me.”Her lashes fluttered. Her skin, once warm, felt cold beneath his fingers. A faint glow pulsed beneath her collarbone, just over her heart—thin lines of light branching outward like veins made of silver and ash.The Blood Key’s mark.But it wasn’t on him.It was burning into her.Lian’s stomach twisted. “This is my fault.” Mira tried to smile. It barely formed. “You always say that,” she murmured weakly. “You don’t get to own every tragedy.”Her words ended in a cough. Dark flecks stained her lips. Pan
CHAPTER 72
The Hunt BeginsThe throne room was no longer silent.It breathed.Kairo sat rigid on the blackened throne as the last echoes of the divine horn faded into memory. The air around him vibrated with restrained fury, shadows clinging to the pillars like living things. Every torch burned lower than it should have, flames bending inward toward him as if afraid to look away.“They let him escape,” Kairo said softly.The softness was worse than a shout.The council stood frozen before him—generals, priests, strategists—none daring to meet his eyes. His fingers curled against the armrest, the burning mark along his spine flaring beneath his robes.“He moves too quickly,” one general said carefully. “The Black Ghost knows the lower districts better than our patrols.”Kairo’s eyes lifted. For a moment, they were human. Then they weren’t. “Then stop patrolling,” he said. “And start hunting.”The word landed like a death sentence. He rose from the throne, power rolling outward in invisible waves.
CHAPTER 71
The Masked MessengerThe city did not sleep anymore.I watched.From the shattered rooftops to the shadowed alleys below, every corner felt alert, as if the stones themselves had learned to listen. Lian moved carefully through the abandoned quarter, his steps light, his shadow pulled close to his body instead of stretching freely. After the collapse beneath the fighting pits, nothing felt safe—not even the dark.Especially not the dark.The rebels were scattered now, hiding in fragments across the lower districts. Safehouses rotated nightly. Signals changed hourly. Trust was rationed like food.And still, Lian felt eyes on him.He paused beneath a broken archway, rain dripping steadily from the cracked stone above. The Blood Key stirred faintly, not burning, not warning—listening.That unsettled him more than pain ever could.“Come out,” Lian said quietly, voice carrying just enough threat to discourage foolishness. “I know you’re there.”Silence answered.Then—A slow clap echoed fr
CHAPTER 70
Shadows GatherThe ruins beneath the fighting pits were quiet.Too quiet.Lian stood at the center of the old chamber, torchlight flickering across broken pillars and damp stone walls carved with symbols older than the palace itself. The air smelled of dust, smoke, and something sharper—fear mixed with resolve.They had come anyway.One by one, figures emerged from the shadows.Men. Women. Some barely more than youths. Others are hardened by years of loss. Fighters, servants, smugglers, former guards, pit survivors. People the palace had forgotten—or crushed.They did not kneel.They watched Lian with wary eyes.The Black Ghost.That was what they whispered now. Not as a curse. Not as a rumor.As a name.Lian felt the weight of it settle across his shoulders. The Blood Key mark burned faintly beneath his skin, reacting to the gathering of intent, of choice.Mira stood beside him, pale but steady, her presence grounding him.“This is it,” she murmured. “Once you speak… there’s no turn
CHAPTER 69
The Burning MarkPain woke Kairo before the screams did.It began beneath his skin, a slow, deliberate burn that pulsed in time with his heartbeat. Each thud sent fire racing through his veins, igniting nerves, muscles, bone. He gasped, fingers clawing into silk sheets already damp with sweat.The mark on his chest burned brightest of all.It was no longer a symbol.It was alive.Kairo rolled onto his side, teeth clenched, as the burning spread outward—down his arms, up his neck, behind his eyes. The world blurred. His vision fractured into overlapping shadows, each one whispering a different truth.They’re watching you.They’re lying.They fear you.“Enough,” he rasped, though no one stood in the chamber with him.The mirrors lining the walls caught his reflection—and he froze.The man staring back did not look like a king.Dark veins spidered beneath his skin, glowing faintly red, as though molten fire flowed through him instead of blood. His eyes flickered uncontrollably, shifting
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