The war was over.The plains of Talas were littered with corpses.Even the sun seemed unwilling to rise.
The remnants of the Holy Army stood in silence—not the silence of peace, but of exhaustion.Roney sat atop his horse, his severed arm wrapped in bandages.His face twisted with rage.
"Kill every last one of them!" he roared."Don't leave a single rat breathing! That bastard Kaelric cut off my arm—his people will pay the price with their lives!"
The surviving soldiers of SkyDrane heard the order and froze in terror.They ran, cried, crawled through the mud, desperate to escape death.But Roney had unleashed his men.The SkyDrane survivors were trapped in a ring of steel.One by one, they were slaughtered.
Arthwin rode forward, his voice sharp as the wind."Enough!" he barked. "This is a massacre! Let the remaining few go—they number less than a hundred and fifty!"
Roney turned on him, fury blazing in his eyes."Do you hear yourself? Do you have any idea what that damned king did to us? Half our army is gone! He slaughtered tens of thousands with just forty-five thousand men! And you'd let these worms live?"
Arthwin gritted his teeth."Those who accept the Holy Faith will be spared! Surrender and swear the oath!" he shouted.But even he knew it was hollow. There was no victory left in this war—only ruin.Half their soldiers were dead. One six-star knight maimed, the other bleeding.Victory reeked of shame.
From the ruins, a SkyDrane soldier rose to his feet."We swore loyalty to a king!" he cried. "Loyalty isn't a fruit to be sold in the market! Our allegiance belongs to Kaelric!"Then he plunged his sword into his own heart.
The field fell silent.One by one, the others followed.They wept as they died—but their faces were strangely peaceful.
Arthwin lowered his head. Something cracked inside him."He was a good king," he murmured. "Perhaps we were the ones who sinned. But rules are rules."
He turned to his men. "Gather the wounded. We return to the capital."The Holy Army was spent.Many soldiers trembled, lost in madness after what they'd witnessed.Arthwin remained cold, ordering the priests, "Tend to their minds. Calm them."
Meanwhile, in SkyDrane Castle, messenger doves arrived one after another.Each carried news of death, defeat, and silence.The final dove brought the worst message of all: Kaelric was dead.
Selara read the note—and collapsed.Her hands trembled, tears streaming down her face.In that moment, she lost her husband, her kingdom, and her hope all at once.
Lane, passing by the corridor, heard his mother's sobs.He pushed the door open and rushed in."Mother! What happened?" he asked, his voice trembling.
Selara's answer came as a broken whisper."Your father… lost the war."
Lane stood frozen.Tears welled in his eyes—but he straightened his back.He whispered to himself:"This world isn't fair… No world ever is. So I won't be fair either."
He turned to his mother, his tone deeper than a child's."Mother, lift your head. We're not alone. There are five of us left. We must hold onto what remains, not what we lost. Father wouldn't want to see you like this."
Selara wiped her tears and looked at him."You're just like your father," she said softly.But inside, a chill crept through her.This child wasn't normal.He spoke not as a six-year-old, but as a man who had lived forty years.
Selara stood, composing herself.Lane handed her a handkerchief. "Here, mother. Wipe your tears."She smiled faintly.
After a while, she spoke again."I must call the council. The kingdom cannot remain without a ruler. Lane… it's time you took the throne."
Lane paused, thinking."There are three things that must be done before I become king," he said calmly.
Selara tilted her head. "And what are they?"
He tapped his fingers against the table."First, the head of the Finance Minister must fall. Father suspected him before the war. I've confirmed it. He embezzled funds and leaked information to Solarin. We have traitors among us."
"Second, the family's safety. We carry dragon blood. For that bloodline to survive, we must trust no one."
"Third, the head of Intelligence must be judged. They reported one hundred and twenty thousand enemies—it was one hundred and eighty. That's not a mistake, that's sabotage. I suspect infiltrators within the network."
Selara stared at him, speechless.The first shock was betrayal; the second was her son's terrifying clarity."My son… you discovered all this yourself?"
Lane smiled. "Yes. I've been watching the council meetings in secret."
Selara took a long breath."Then we know what must be done. Let's go."
They walked down the corridor in silence.Selara's steps were steady; Lane's eyes sharp, unblinking.
When they entered the council chamber, chaos reigned.The moment Selara opened the door, the noise died.The queen sat upon Kaelric's throne and slammed her hand against the table.
"Summon the Royal Guards!" she commanded.
The doors opened; two guards marched in.Selara threw a stack of documents onto the Finance Minister's desk."Open them," she said. "Read."
The man hesitated, then obeyed.His face drained of color as he saw the seals and forged accounts.
Selara rose.The aura of dragon blood surged through the chamber—heavy, suffocating.Everyone felt it pressing against their lungs.
The minister collapsed to his knees."My queen! Mercy! I was wrong!" he cried.
Selara said nothing.She drew a guard's sword and, with a single motion, took his head.
"Let this be a warning," she said coldly. "To all who betray the crown."
She placed the sword on the table and turned her eyes to the others.Then she faced the head of Intelligence."Your report to the late king stated one hundred and twenty thousand enemy troops. The truth was one hundred and eighty. Explain."
The man stood, trembling."My queen… we were deceived. I had no idea the numbers were false. I failed my duty. I request to resign."
Selara was about to respond, but Lane spoke first."Your resignation is accepted. Leave the chamber—and surrender yourself."
Silence fell.No one could believe such a voice had come from a six-year-old boy.The intelligence chief swallowed hard and lowered his head.Guards stepped forward and took him away.
Selara realized her son had seized the room without lifting a sword.The council now belonged to them.
"Listen carefully!" she said."Fortify the defenses. I will oversee the treasury myself. Intelligence will fall under the Royal Guard temporarily. Strengthen the walls. Move civilians to the underground shelters. Check every grain stock.Anyone who fails—loses their head."
No one dared speak.The air itself turned cold.
Selara didn't mention the throne.And that, too, was part of Lane's plan.He had acted like a king—without wearing the crown.And everyone had noticed.
As the council dispersed, Selara looked into her son's eyes.As a mother, she feared him.As a queen, she was proud.This child wasn't merely Kaelric's heir—he was his legacy.
They left the hall and returned to their chambers.Selara ordered the maids, "Take the family to the safe zone. Two guards for every child. If danger comes, they run—no hesitation."
Lane called his nanny."Do you remember what I told you?" he whispered."Never forget it. Now go, bring me food from the kitchen."
She nodded and left.
Lane used the silence that followed.He slipped out of the room, walked down the corridor, and descended the stone steps.When he stepped into the darkness of the cellar, his face carried no trace of innocence—only resolve.
He was no longer a child.He was the price of Kaelric's prayer.