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CHAPTER 201— The Anchor of the Storm
Foreign merchants sowed rivalries, offering bribes for better prices. Strangers demanded more, pushing villagers to dig deeper into the mines, stripping the earth faster than it could give.And most dangerously of all, gold entered the village — a metal none had valued before, but which outsiders craved more than life itself.Jonas watched as men killed for it. Friend turned against friend, brother against brother, over a glittering stone that could buy armies across the seas.The king, once content with tribute, became drunk with ambition. He ordered more men into the mines, demanded harsher tribute from neighbors, and began hoarding wealth for himself.In council, he silenced Jonas with a single look.“These foreigners kneel for what we own,” he told his chiefs. “And soon, they will kneel for our rule. I will make the hunters’ village an empire.”But Jonas felt the weight of visions gnawing at him. He saw not empires rising, but burning — and a shadowed figure at the center of it al
CHAPTER 200 — The Village That Rose
The hunters’ village no longer slept in shadows.Where once its nights were quiet save for the howl of beasts, now firelight gleamed from new forges, drums echoed with triumph, and caravans from distant lands arrived bearing gifts and requests for trade. All of it, they whispered, because of Jonas.But Jonas himself still felt like an imposter wearing borrowed skin.The iron veins he uncovered were only the beginning. As the villagers dug deeper under his direction, they found copper threaded through rock, clay fertile for bricks, and strange stones that sparked fire more easily than flint.Jonas, guided by the half-formed visions that haunted him, taught them how to combine and shape what they found. Soon, huts of mud and straw gave way to stronger homes lined with clay bricks. Spears tipped with sharpened iron cut through prey — and enemies — with ease.The hunters’ village became a beacon of power.It began with a small village by the river. Hungry and desperate, they had once mock
CHAPTER 199 — The Crown of Shadows
The Romanov mansion had grown quieter in the weeks since Zain seized power. What once hummed with order and disciplined loyalty now carried an uneasy stillness, like the silence before a storm.Zain relished it.To him, silence meant control. Obedience. Fear.He sat in his father’s chair — Aiden’s chair his fingers tapping against the carved wood of the armrest. The crown of authority he had fashioned for himself weighed heavy, not in burden, but in satisfaction.They thought him ruthless. Good. Let them fear.Bryden stood before him, his usual stoic expression intact. Zain’s lips curved into a cold smile as he studied his most trusted hand.“It is done?” Zain asked, his tone casual, almost bored.“Yes,” Bryden replied smoothly, without hesitation. “Neither Silvana nor the child will trouble you again.”Zain exhaled slowly, leaning back into the chair as if the answer soothed him. A sharp, dangerous glint flickered in his eyes.“Good. Very good.”Inside, relief swelled. The ghosts of
CHAPTER 198 — The Crown of a Stranger
The hunters’ village pulsed with celebration again, but this time the joy had a sharper edge. The drums were heavier, the chants louder, the wine flowing thicker. Jonas had grown used to the cheers that followed him wherever he walked, but tonight felt different.At the center of the firelit circle, the king rose. His staff, carved with ancient markings, struck the ground three times, silencing the revelers.“Jonas,” the old ruler’s voice thundered, carrying pride and authority. “You have fought for this village when death circled us like wolves. You have proven yourself more than a warrior — you are a leader, a shield, a son to this people.”The crowd erupted in applause, voices chanting his name.Jonas stood stiffly, trying to wear their love like a garment, but it never fit.The king’s eyes gleamed. “A day will come when these old bones of mine can no longer carry this staff. And when that day comes, I see no one more worthy to wear the mantle of king than you, Jonas. I would have
CHAPTER 197 — Shadows Within Shadows
Zain’s office smelled faintly of imported tobacco and ambition. The night’s rain still tapped against the tall windows as he leaned back in his leather chair, eyes narrowing on Bryden.“They’ve become a liability,” Zain said flatly, sliding a sealed envelope across the desk. “No more hiding. No more chances. Do it quietly, tonight.”Bryden glanced at the envelope but didn’t touch it right away. “And the bodies?”“Dispose of them where no one will find them. I want their names erased as if they never existed. Then…” Zain’s smile was thin, serpentine. “…you will stand as my shadow, my second in command.”Bryden gave a short nod. “Consider it done.”Later That Night — The DeceptionUnder cover of darkness, Bryden moved swiftly. Silvana and Zia were already hidden in the basement of the safehouse he’d prepared days earlier — a remote stone cabin in the wooded hills, stocked with enough supplies for months.He crouched in front of Silvana. “No matter what you hear, no matter who comes… you
CHAPTER 196 — Shadows Within Walls
The Romanov mansion had always been a fortress, but under Zain’s rule, it had begun to feel like a trap. Silvana noticed it first — the way the staff moved differently, the glances they exchanged before speaking, the new rules about where she could go and when.She could no longer wander the gardens freely without an escort. Zia’s lessons had been shortened and monitored. The kitchen doors were locked at odd hours. Every part of her life was quietly caged, and she could feel the bars closing in.Zain’s Office — MidnightThe fire crackled low as Zain poured himself a glass of brandy, speaking without looking up.“They still hold loyalty to the old name,” he said, voice calm but laced with venom. “As long as Silvana and the child exist, they will believe the Romanovs can rise again. I cannot allow that.”The man across from him — one of his personal enforcers — shifted uneasily. “Sir, you mean to…?”“Remove them,” Zain said simply, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “A tragic accid
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