The throne room of House Vortigan blazed under blood-red torchlight, the flames casting jagged shadows that danced across the shattered marble floor. Velvet banners, emblazoned with the sigil of a coiling serpent, trembled in the icy wind pouring through the broken stained-glass window, its vibrant shards glittering like spilled jewels. The air reeked of iron and ash, a testament to the carnage that had unfolded mere moments ago. A dozen noble corpses littered the chamber, their bodies twisted in grotesque poses of agony and disbelief—faces frozen in the moment they realized their ancient lineage had crumbled beneath a usurper's heel.