Episode-784
Chapter : 1567
Lloyd made a slashing motion with his hand. "Malachi promised that he would seize control of the Ferrum military. He would kill his father, the Emperor. He would purge the loyalist generals. And then, with the might of the North behind him, he would march south—not to fight Liam, but to join him. They would catch the Austins and Garcias in a pincer. The Rebel Hammer and the Traitor Anvil."
"It was a brilliant plan," Jasmin admitted.
"It was a suicidal plan," Lloyd corrected. "It relied on a thousand things going right. It relied on Liam surviving long enough for Malachi to win his civil war. It relied on Malachi being able to kill his own father, a man who was a Transcended Spirit user of immense power. It relied on the soldiers following a traitor. But they did it. They shook hands in that cold lodge, and they decided to burn the world down so they could build a better one from the ashes."
Lloyd looked at the portrait of Liam again. "That is the origin of our kingdom, Jasmin. Not a divine mandate. Not a holy prophecy. Just two men in a room, deciding that enough was enough. One gave his honor, the other gave his blood. And between them, they killed a god."
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Lloyd closed the book on Liam Bethelham and walked back to the shelf where the Ferrum family records were kept. These books were different. They were bound in iron-reinforced covers, heavy and menacing. He pulled one down with a grunt. It was black, with the Ferrum lion embossed in silver on the front.
"Now comes the ugly part," Lloyd said, placing the heavy tome on the table. "Liam went south and started his war. It was glorious, in a way. The underdog fighting the giants. He won battles he shouldn't have. He rallied the people. Songs were written about him. He was the hero."
Lloyd opened the black book. The pages were thick vellum, filled with names and dates written in sharp, aggressive calligraphy. Many of the names had red lines drawn through them.
"But while Liam was playing the hero in the south," Lloyd said, "Malachi was playing the butcher in the north. The Ferrum Civil War wasn't a war, Jasmin. It was a purge. It was a knife fight in a locked room."
"The King... your great-grandfather... he was strong?" Jasmin asked.
"King Ironheart," Lloyd said the name with distaste. "That's what they called him. He was a monster. He was a Sovereign-Level dual Transcended user. His spirit was a Behemoth, a creature of pure physical destruction. He ruled the north with absolute terror. He had spies everywhere. He had the 'Iron Guard,' elite soldiers who were fanatically loyal. Taking him down wasn't just about strength; it was about surgery."
"Surgery?"
"You have to cut out the heart before the body knows it's dead," Lloyd explained. "Malachi couldn't just challenge his father to a duel. He would have lost. And even if he won, the Iron Guard would have killed him. He had to dismantle his father's power base first."
Lloyd turned the pages, pointing to the crossed-out names. "It started quietly. A general dying in a hunting accident. A loyalist lord succumbing to a sudden illness. A treasury shipment disappearing. Malachi spent six months weakening the structure. He turned lieutenants against captains. He bribed who he could, and he killed who he couldn't."
"That sounds... like what you do," Jasmin said softly.
Lloyd paused. He looked at her, then gave a short, bitter nod. "It runs in the family, Jasmin. We are good at breaking things."
He continued. "When the moment came... it was swift. Liam had just won a major victory in the south. The Emperor was furious. He ordered the full mobilization of the Ferrum legions. He gathered all his high lords and generals in the Grand Fortress at Ironhold for a war council. He was going to lead the army south himself to crush the upstart Count."
"And that's when Malachi struck?"
"That's when he struck," Lloyd said. "Malachi was at the council. He stood at his father's right hand. The Emperor was giving a speech about burning the south to the ground. Malachi waited until the Emperor was at the height of his rage, distracted by his own power. And then, Malachi drew his sword."
Lloyd didn't need to describe the violence. The silence in the archives was heavy enough.
Chapter : 1568
"He didn't just kill his father," Lloyd said quietly. "He signaled his own loyalists in the room. In ten minutes, half the high command of the Ferrum nation was dead on the floor. It was a massacre. Malachi stood in a pool of his own family's blood and declared himself the new Arch Duke. He declared the Empire dead."
"But... not everyone agreed," Jasmin guessed.
"No," Lloyd said. "The Iron Guard fought back. The loyalist branch families fought back. The fortress turned into a slaughterhouse. It took three days of room-to-room fighting to secure the castle. Malachi fought on the front lines the whole time. They say his armor was red by the end of it, not from paint, but from blood. He earned the name 'The Lion' that day. But he also earned the hatred of the survivors."
"And that," Lloyd said, tapping the book, "brings us to Rubel."
Jasmin leaned forward. "Viscount Rubel?"
"The very same," Lloyd said. "Rubel's grandfather was the Emperor's younger brother. He was a loyalist. He believed in the old ways. He believed in the divine right of the Ferrum to rule over the weak. When Malachi launched his coup, Rubel's grandfather fought against him. He led the counter-attack in the lower wards."
"What happened to him?"
"Malachi killed him," Lloyd said simply. "Personally. In single combat. Rubel's father—who was just a child then—watched it happen. He watched his father die at the hands of his cousin Malachi. He watched his family's status be stripped away. The main branch—Malachi's line—took everything. The loyalist branches were given a choice: kneel or die."
Lloyd sighed. "They knelt. But they never forgot. Rubel grew up on stories of that night. He grew up believing that Malachi was the villain. That Malachi was the traitor who stole the Empire and replaced it with a weak Kingdom. In Rubel's eyes, my father Roy is the son of a usurper. And I am the grandson of a murderer. He believes the Arch Duchy belongs to him by right of blood and loyalty to the old ways."
"So his treason..." Jasmin started.
"In his mind, it's not treason," Lloyd said. "It's restoration. He thinks he is the hero of the story, trying to take back what was stolen. That's the tragedy of civil wars, Jasmin. They never really end. They just go quiet for a generation or two."
Lloyd closed the black book. The sound echoed like a gavel.
"Malachi won the war," Lloyd said. "He marched south, joined Liam, and together they crushed the Austins and the Garcias. They forced the creation of the Kingdom of Bethelham. They wrote new laws. They freed the slaves of Tiamat. They did good things. Great things."
He looked at the shelf of books, rows and rows of recorded history.
"They rebranded House Ferrum. We stopped being the 'Iron Tyrants' and became the 'Lions of the North.' We became the defenders of the realm. We became the shield. And for the most part, we have been true to that. My father is a good man. He protects his people."
"But?" Jasmin prompted.
"But you can't build a house on a foundation of bones and expect the ghosts to stay quiet," Lloyd said. "The river of blood that Malachi shed... it's still flowing. It flows through Rubel. It flows through the memory of the Altamirans. And it flows through me."
He looked at Jasmin, his expression tired but resolute.
"That is why this war is personal, Jasmin. We aren't fighting a new enemy. We are fighting the consequences of our own history. We are fighting the ghosts our grandfathers created. And the only way to end it... is to be better than they were. Not stronger. Better."
He sighed, the sound heavy in the quiet room. He reached for the lantern, intending to extinguish it and finally head back to his chambers. The story was done, or so he thought.
"Master Lloyd," Jasmin said, her voice cutting through his motion. She hadn't moved. Her eyes were fixed on the map again, specifically on the green valley of Tiamat.
"Yes?" Lloyd asked, pausing with his hand on the brass dial of the lamp.
"You said Malachi and Liam won," she said slowly, piecing the final part of the puzzle together. "You said they crushed the old families and built the Kingdom of Bethelham. They freed the slaves. They wrote new laws."
She looked up at him, confusion furrowing her brow. "But... if they freed Tiamat... why isn't Tiamat part of Bethelham? Why is there an Altamira? If we were the liberators, why did they run away from us?"