The body of Duke Larethin lay on the plush carpet of the Royal Chamber, a dark stain spreading beneath him.

  Prince Lucian stared at the corpse, his breathing shallow. He looked up at the man holding the bloody sword, the man he had thought abandoned him.

  "Lucian, you see?" Lancaster spoke, his voice smooth and completely at odds with the violence he had just committed. "I am here as I promised. And I will help you. I will make you the true King."

  Lucian pressed his back against the headboard of his bed, his face twisted in horror. "You... you just killed him."

  "Duke Larethin was jealous," Lancaster said, wiping the blade on Larethin’s velvet cloak. "He was jealous of you. Jealous of us, and how well we bond. I cannot let a mere noble disrespect my King. If he doesn't follow, he gets punished."

  Lancaster smiled, a gesture that didn't reach his cold eyes.

  Lucian, still shocked, blabbered, his mind racing to find logic. "But... but he said... he said you were controlling me. He said you were the danger."

  Lancaster laughed. It was a light, airy sound. "And? As I said, he didn't trust your capabilities and strength. It is for your own good that I have taken him out. I am here to help you finally."

  He stepped closer, looming over the Prince. "I have made preparations for my plans. But before that, let's take out those pests outside your walls."

  Lucian blinked, hope warring with fear. "How?"

  "I have set up a trap, Lucian," Lancaster explained leaning in. "You should open the gates. Let Duke Thorne and Alaric in. We will take care of the root of the problem at once, and then you can be the King."

  Lucian hesitated. "Are you sure? Wouldn't they just storm the castle? They have an army."

  "Trust me," Lancaster said, holding Lucian's gaze. "Have I betrayed you up until now? I have come here, into this city that is besieged, haven't I? Without even worrying about my own life!"

  The logic, twisted as it was, took root in Lucian’s desperate mind. He finally calmed down. He nodded slowly.

  "Servants!" Lucian screamed, his voice cracking. "Call Commander Rudolf! Now!"

  Moments later, the heavy doors burst open. Commander Rudolf stormed in, breathless from the chaos outside.

  He stopped dead in his tracks as he saw the mess inside the room. The overturned chair. The pool of blood. And the dead Duke of the East lying face down.

  "What happened here?!" Rudolf screamed, instinctively grabbing the hilt of his sword.

  Before Lucian could speak, Lancaster stepped forward, his hands raised in a mock gesture of peace.

  "Commander Rudolf, no worries," the priest said calmly. "Duke Larethin tried to stage a coup while the Prince was cornered. I merely saved His Highness from the traitor."

  Rudolf looked at Lucian. The Prince just nodded frantically.

  "It’s true, Rudolf," Lucian said, his voice trembling but resolute. "Now, listen to me. Open the city gates."

  Rudolf’s jaw dropped. He looked at the Prince with pure astonishment.

  "Are you surrendering?" Rudolf asked, incredulous. "Your Highness, if we open the gates... they will take our heads. There will be no mercy from Thorne."

  "Me? Surrender? No way!" Lucian quickly retorted, a manic grin spreading across his face. "We have a trap set up. Lancaster will activate the trap and take them both out once they enter!"

  Rudolf looked from the Prince to the smiling priest. He tried to stop this madness.

  "Your Highness, listen to reason!" Rudolf pleaded. "There is no way a 'trap' can take out such a large army! And even if it could, Shersalon has almost half a million citizens! Fighting inside the walls will kill a huge amount of people! They will revolt for your head before Thorne even gets to you!"

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  "Do it!" Lucian screamed. "That is a command!"

  Rudolf stared at the Prince for a long moment. He saw the madness in Lucian's eyes

  "As you command," Rudolf said stiffly.

  He turned and walked out of the room.

  As soon as the door clicked shut, Rudolf’s expression shifted from shock to cold calculation. Even he knew how hopeless this case was. He wasn't giving up his life here for a madman and a corpse.

  He grabbed the first officer he saw in the hallway.

  "The Crown Prince has ordered the gates opened," Rudolf said sharply. "Relay the order to the gatehouse."

  "Sir?" the officer asked, confused.

  "Do it," Rudolf barked.

  As the officer ran off, Rudolf turned the other way. He signaled to his personal guard, men who had served him for years.

  "I'm getting out of here," he whispered to his second-in-command. "The Castle has underground tunnels leading to the river."

  "Sir? We are abandoning the Prince?"

  "The Prince is already dead," Rudolf spat, adjusting his cloak. "I am not dying in this rat trap."

  Before the great gates of Shersalon even groaned open, the Commander of the Royal Army had vanished into the darkness beneath the city.

  Outside the city walls, the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife.

  Suddenly, the massive iron gates began to part.

  A scout galloped back to the Coalition camp. "Sir! The gates! They are opening!"

  Duke Thorne, standing beside his horse, got shocked. "Are they surrendering this early?"

  He frowned, looking at the open maw of the city. "No way... Are they going to field the army and try to engage us outside? That's suicide."

  Alaric, standing beside him, watched the gates with narrowed eyes.

  "What will we do?" Alaric asked.

  Thorne drew his sword. "Let's see. If they don't come out... we go in."

  They waited for a minute. Then two. No army marched out to meet them. The city stood open, silent and waiting.

  "Advance!" Thorne ordered.

  Thorne’s army started pouring in. They expected an ambush, volleys of arrows, something. But there was only chaos.

  Inside the walls, the Crown’s soldiers were leaderless. Rudolf was gone. Larethin was dead. They had no orders. When they saw the enemy pouring in, panic ensued. Some tried to fight, engaging Thorne’s disciplined troops in small, uncoordinated skirmishes.

  They were mercilessly massacred.

  Alaric looked up. "Bring the ship in."

  The SKYHAMMER descended, its shadow passing over the city walls. It bypassed the fighting in the lower districts and docked directly inside the Royal Sector, in the large plaza at the center of the octagonal city.

  Alaric and Thorne disembarked, leading a squad of elites. They started running towards the Royal Hall, cutting down the few Royal Guards foolish enough to try and oppose them.

  The heavy double doors of the Throne Room flew open, the wood splintering under the force of the kick.

  Alaric and Thorne strode in, their weapons drawn, blood dripping from their armor.

  And there he was.

  Prince Lucian was sitting on the throne, wearing the heavy crown that looked too big for his head. He was seated there even though he hadn't even been officially announced as King.

  Standing calmly beside him was Priest Lancaster.

  Thorne stepped forward, wiping blood from his cheek. He spoke with a smug, hard tone.

  "What? You gave up already?" Thorne scoffed, his voice echoing in the vast hall. "Well, that makes things easy for us. But don't think I will forgive your execution just like that!"

  Lucian looked at them. His eyes were wide, feverish. He started to laugh.

  "Hah... Hahaha!"

  He laughed hysterically, the sound bouncing off the stone walls.

  "Who is executing who?" Lucian shrieked.

  He turned his head towards the priest beside him.

  "Sir Lancaster!" Lucian screamed, pointing a trembling finger at Alaric and Thorne. "Now is the time! Activate the trap you spoke of! Kill them!!!"

  Alaric and Thorne froze. Their eyes locked onto the man in the priest’s robes.

  So this was Lancaster, Alaric thought, feeling a sudden, ominous pressure in the air. The one we’ve heard so much about. The Prince was really collaborating with the Covenant.

  Lancaster looked at the screaming Prince. Then he looked at the intruders.

  He gave a smile that sent a chill down everyone's spine, even Lucian’s.

  "Ahhh, yes," Lancaster spoke softly. "I said that."

  "Huh?" Lucian stopped laughing, bamboozled by the tone.

  Lancaster placed a hand on Lucian's shoulder.

  "I will make you a King, all right," Lancaster said, his voice dropping to a demonic whisper. "Or at least... what's left of you."