Chapter 76: The Crown Representative
The morning of the Tribunal arrived, and the entire city held its breath in tense anticipation. Yet, before the gavel could strike, there was one last meeting to attend.
Theresa returned the evening before with important news: the Crown's representative had agreed to a private audience. At dawn, Dominic and Theresa navigated the shadowed alleys of the palace district, leaving Florence and Lysandra behind at the manor with strict instructions to stay alert.
Their destination was a humble yet intriguing audience chamber tucked away in an ancient wing of the palace, far from the grandeur of the ball's opulent halls. The room was dimly lit, with only a few floating orbs casting a soft, golden hue that danced across the walls. The air carried the rich scent of aged paper and stone, filling the space with a palpable sense of history and hidden secrets.
Theresa lingered near the door, her presence understated yet attentive. Dominic stood alone at the center, tense yet composed.
Suddenly, the door swung open.
A man entered. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with golden hair that caught the light like spun sunlight. His eyes were the color of winter dawn, pale and piercing.
He wore simple robes of deep blue, no crown, no crest. But Dominic felt him before he saw him properly, a presence that seemed to shine, as if the man's face had a halo, though there was no light behind him.
The man's presence was overwhelming, not because of raw mana or magical power, but due to an unshakable authority. It was the same sensation Dominic had felt around the sickly prince, only intensified a hundredfold. While the prince's aura was faint, barely noticeable, this man wore his power like a crown.
It was evident in the set of his shoulders, the weight of his gaze, and the way the air seemed to still in his vicinity. Royalty, yes, but something deeper, something ancient and absolute.
Dominic reached through the bond, sensing Theresa nearby just outside the chamber. Through her, he felt it sharply, the enormity of the man's existence. Her reaction was instant and unambiguous.
Dominic bowed his head, not low, but respectful. "Your Highness."
The man's lips twitched. "You don't know who I am, do you?"
"A prince, I assume. The boy in the garden had something like your presence. Weaker, but similar."
"You've met my son." The man's voice was calm, but it carried weight. "He spoke of you. A kind man who taught him a game."
"Your son?" Dominic repeated. The words settled wrong. The man before him didn't look old enough to be the age the emperor's age should suggest. His face was unlined, his golden hair untouched by grey. Yet the presence around him was ancient.
The man smiled, and for a moment, the room seemed brighter. "I am older than I look, Lord Kane. Much older." He stepped closer, his eyes never leaving Dominic. "You've brought me something. I got your message and heard of the evidence you have for me."
"Then you know what we're facing," Dominic said, handing over a copy of the recording stone.
"I know more than you think. The Church of the Eternal Will is an old enemy, older than my dynasty. But we underestimated how far it had spread." The man's expression hardened.
"The Tribunal tomorrow—"
"The Tribunal is a stage. Harwick will try to destroy you publicly. If he fails, he'll try something else. You already know this." The man turned and walked toward the window. "The Crown is preparing. Your evidence has allowed us to move troops without alarming our enemies. Arrest plans are in place. But it won't be enough to stop the attack. Only to blunt it."
"The Church is going to move today," Dominic said. "If Harwick loses, they'll hit the city."
"Yes. They'll want the core. They'll want you dead. They'll want chaos." The man turned back. "I can't give you an army, Lord Kane; we lose a lot more responding early. You will need to survive long enough for the imperial forces to respond."
"I think I can do that."
The man reached into his robes and withdrew a small, unadorned ring. "This belonged to your father. He gave it to me before he was taken. I've been waiting for the right person to return it."
Dominic's chest tightened. He took the ring. It was simple, silver, warm to the touch.
"What does it do?"
"It's a key. To a safe your father left behind: research, weapons, and a message. He knew the Church was closing in on him. He prepared." The man's eyes were kind and very old. "He also prepared for you, Dominic. He believed you would finish what he started."
Dominic's hand closed around the ring. His father's message. His father's faith.
"Where is the safe?"
"I'll have the location sent to you. But only after the Tribunal, not before. You'll need to survive first."
Dominic met the man's eyes. "I will."
The man nodded. "I know." He stepped back, and for a moment, the glow around him dimmed. "Focus on the Tribunal, Lord Kane. The Crown will do what it was built to do."
He turned and walked away, vanishing through a side door. The room felt smaller without him, as if the air itself had loosened.
Theresa came forward, her hand on Dominic's arm. "You didn't know."
"I didn't."
"That was the Emperor."
" Yeah, I know."
Theresa paused, her voice trembling with awe as the bond vibrated with her wonder. "He's truly beyond SS rank," she whispered, barely able to believe it. "His limits are invisible to me currently. I didn't realize how close he was until he was right there."
Dominic locked eyes with her, a knowing look in his gaze. "And I believe he's the one person in this city who might actually believe we can win."
They left the chamber together. The palace corridors were cold and silent. As they walked, the system pulsed quietly at the edge of Dominic's vision.
```
[Quest Complete: The Capital Has Teeth]
[Objective Complete: Individual identified — the Emperor.]
[Bonus Complete: Affiliation determined without directly asking.]
[Reward: 150 GT Tokens]
[Bonus Reward: 75 GT Tokens]
[Current GT Tokens: 730]
```
A second notification followed, quieter, heavier.
```
[Hidden Quest Progress: The Capital's Game]
[Progress: 80%]
[Remaining: Identify the nature of the sealed entity and the Church's ultimate objective.]
```
Dominic read both, then closed them.
***
The manor lay silent just before dawn, not with the gentle hush of sleep, but with the tense stillness of souls bracing for an unstoppable fate.
Theresa faced the mirror, fastening the collar of her deep blue tunic, nearly black in the dim lamplight, edged with subtle gold at the cuffs, polished yet serious enough for the Tribunal. Over it, she wrapped Astrielle's Promise around her shoulders. The coat fit like a second skin, its gold trim shimmering as if alive. She brushed her hair back and reached for the Moon's Whisper pendant. The cool crescent rested against her throat; she held it there, eyes closed, sensing the faint thrum of the bond within.
When she opened her eyes, calm resilience greeted her. Whatever lay ahead, she was ready.
Meanwhile, Dominic dressed in midnight black trousers and shirt, the Kane coat draping open at his sides. He buckled his sword belt and slid into gloves, soft leather, reinforced at the knuckles, shimmering black and gold. Turning to the mirror, the reflection stared back, older, harder, more formidable.
He pressed his hand over the ring in his pocket, the Emperor's gift, his father's ring, the anchor to everything Edmund Kane had left behind.
In the courtyard, Florence already practiced her halberd, slicing slow arcs through the dawn air. In a dark crimson jacket and fitted trousers, her hair tight in a braid, she moved with effortless grace that concealed the effort behind it. When she saw Dominic, she paused, planting her halberd upright.
"Almost time," she said.
"Almost," he replied.
She studied him, noting the black and gold, the sword, the determined set of his jaw. "You look like someone heading to war."
"I am."
A sharp smile. "So am I."
Inside, Lysandra sat on her bed's edge, her rods laid neatly across her lap, dark grey, simple, fitted. Gloves with gold spikes already on her hands, she flexed her fingers, preparing.
Dominic appeared, and she looked up. "I'm ready."
"I know," he said softly, crossing to sit beside her. For a moment, silence stretched between them before he gently tucked her hair behind her ear, fingers lingering at her temple. She closed her eyes, enfolded in the quiet intimacy.
"When this is over," he whispered, "I want to take you somewhere distant, just for a day, away from all this."
A faint smile touched her lips. "That would be nice."
He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, then rose. She followed, shouldering her rods with practiced ease.
In the entry hall, they assembled as dawn's first light seeped through the windows. Florence stood ready by the door, halberd in hand. Theresa checked her satchel of recording stones, Lysandra adjusted her harness, and Wobbly, a burbling bundle of determination, wobbled at Dominic's feet before bounding onto his shoulder.
Dominic looked at his team, his family. "No more hiding. Today, we bring the fight to them."
Florence's smile was fierce. "Now that's the spirit!"
Lysandra nodded. "We're ready."
Theresa met his gaze. "Together."
He reached for the door as the cold, bright morning spilled in. Outside, the city stirred awake. He stepped out, the others behind him. The door swung shut. The war had begun.