Chapter 36: The Blade Beneath the Silence
The throne room shook.
Dust rained down from the ceiling as the marble floor cracked again—thin lines spidering out from the base of the throne like nerves exposed under skin. Elric stood still, one hand on the sigil, the other clenched as the glow on his wrist pulsed brighter than ever.
The Root wasn't attacking.
It was listening.
Taran staggered near the wall, one knee hitting the ground as the voices of memory began to echo—not just around them, but through them. The palace itself felt like it was remembering.
Then—
A sound.
Fast.
Wrong.
From the shadowed archway behind the throne, a figure leapt forward—one of the cloaked Root-bound guards who had pretended to be statues earlier. No breath, no soul. Just a jagged bone-blade drawn and aimed straight for Elric's throat.
Lira moved before Elric did.