The capital did not panic.
It murmured.
And murmurs were worse.
By the time Arthur returned from the northern ridge, three different versions of the same rumor had already reached the noble quarter:
The rebels had wounded the Crown Prince.
The Emperor had nearly fallen.
A second dragon had appeared.
None of it was entirely true.
None of it was entirely false.
Arthur stood in the High Court chamber as the nobles gathered.
Rows of silk and polished steel.
Measured smiles.
Careful eyes.
They bowed when he entered.
But the bows were shorter than usual.
He noticed.
Of course he noticed.
Emperor Caelus sat at the elevated seat beside him.
Silent.
Letting Arthur stand first.
This was deliberate.
Arthur stepped forward.
"The rebellion at Northern Ridge has declared itself openly."
Murmurs rippled across the chamber.
"Three hundred confirmed rebels," Arthur continued evenly. "One dragon-bound lieutenant. Structured formations."
He paused.
"We are not facing chaos. We are facing organization."
Count Varin rose first.
Too quickly.
"Your Highness," he began carefully, "might this not be the result of… rapid reform?"
Arthur's gaze moved to him slowly.
"Explain."
Varin swallowed.
"Some nobles feel displaced. Tradition must be balanced with—"
"Tradition," Arthur interrupted calmly, "did not include burning supply routes."
The chamber went quiet again.
Varin bowed slightly.
"Of course."
Arthur stepped forward one more pace.
"You are free to disagree with reform."
He let the sentence breathe.
"You are not free to fund rebellion."
That landed.
Several faces shifted subtly.
Arthur turned toward Seraphina, who stood near the pillar.
She gave the faintest nod.
He already had confirmation.
"Count Edevane," Arthur said calmly.
A thin man near the back stiffened.
"Yes, Your Highness?"
"You transferred three shipments of reinforced steel to Northern Ridge under agricultural exemption."
The chamber froze.
Edevane paled.
"That is a misunderstanding—"
"Two shipments of medicinal mana crystals," Arthur continued evenly.
Silence deepened.
"I would like you to explain."
Edevane's composure cracked.
"I—I was coerced."
"By whom?"
"I do not know their names."
Arthur descended the steps slowly.
The entire hall tracked his movement.
"You funded them," Arthur said quietly.
"I was threatened."
"With what?"
Edevane hesitated.
Arthur's eyes hardened.
"Speak clearly."
"My daughter," he whispered.
The hall murmured again.
Arthur did not react outwardly.
"Where is she?"
"They took her."
"When?"
"Three weeks ago."
Arthur glanced at Seraphina again.
She nodded once.
That aligned.
Kidnapping.
Financing.
Control.
The organization was not just ideological.
It was coercive.
Arthur straightened.
"You will be confined."
Gasps.
"For investigation," Arthur clarified.
He turned to the court.
"Any noble who has been coerced will step forward now."
No one moved.
Arthur let the silence stretch.
Then he spoke again, voice lower.
"If you do not step forward now… you will be treated as willing conspirators."
Still silence.
He nodded once.
"So be it."
Guards stepped forward and escorted Edevane away.
The message was clear.
Cooperation would not be hidden behind fear.
Later – Private Chamber
Edevane knelt in the interrogation room.
Arthur stood alone before him.
No torture instruments.
No spectacle.
"Your daughter is alive," Arthur said.
Edevane looked up sharply.
Arthur continued.
"She is being held near the southern industrial quarter."
Hope flickered across Edevane's face.
"You will give me every name. Every contact. Every coded phrase."
"I don't know much—"
"You know enough."
Arthur crouched slightly.
"If I retrieve your daughter and discover you withheld information… I will consider that betrayal."
Edevane trembled.
"I understand."
Arthur stood.
"You will live if you cooperate."
It was not mercy.
It was leverage.
Public Square – The Next Day
The capital gathered.
Word spread fast when nobles were involved.
Edevane stood bound on the platform.
His crimes announced publicly.
Funding rebellion under coercion.
Arthur stood before the crowd.
Not raised above them.
Level.
"Count Edevane funded insurgent forces," Arthur declared.
Gasps rippled.
"Under threat to his family."
The crowd shifted.
Arthur's voice remained steady.
"He did not come forward when given the chance."
Edevane's face twisted in shame.
Arthur continued.
"Fear explains action. It does not absolve it."
The execution was swift.
Clean.
No cruelty.
But no leniency.
The message was clear:
Coercion would not shield treason.
As the body was removed, Arthur turned toward the gathered nobles.
"You will not hide behind fear."
His eyes swept the crowd.
"If your families are threatened, you come to me."
The crowd did not cheer.
They did not need to.
They understood.
That Night
Arthur stood alone on the palace balcony.
The city below flickered with torchlight.
Lucian approached quietly.
"You executed him."
"Yes."
"He was afraid."
"Yes."
Lucian hesitated.
"Was there another choice?"
Arthur did not answer immediately.
He thought of the hospital room in another lifetime.
Of fear.
Of helplessness.
Then he spoke.
"If I excuse him, ten more will hide."
Lucian nodded slowly.
"You're becoming harsher."
Arthur's gaze remained on the city.
"I am becoming clearer."
Lucian stood beside him.
Not behind.
For once.
After a moment, he spoke quietly.
"I will monitor the western nobles."
Arthur glanced at him.
"Voluntarily?"
"Yes."
Arthur gave a small nod.
"Good."
It wasn't dramatic.
It wasn't emotional.
But it was progress.
Far Away – Canyon Depths
The cloaked leader stood before the storm dragon.
"You lost ground."
The lieutenant knelt.
"We measured him."
"And?"
"He adapts."
The cloaked figure's fingers tapped against the dragon's scaled neck thoughtfully.
"Good."
The lieutenant looked up.
"You are pleased?"
"Yes."
His voice lowered slightly.
"Pressure reveals fracture."
He turned away.
"Prepare the next escalation."
"Military?"
"No."
The cloaked figure's voice softened.
"Personal."
The war was no longer confined to canyon walls.
It had entered the capital.
And next —
It would strike closer to the throne than before.