Episode-793
Chapter : 1585
He climbed into the carriage. Ken was already in the driver's seat, looking like a mountain of furs. With a crack of the whip, the carriage lurched forward, the wheels crunching on the gravel.
Jasmin watched them go. She watched until the carriage turned the bend and disappeared into the mist, leaving only the sound of fading hoofbeats. She reached up and touched the cold metal of the hairpin, gripping it tight. A deep, unsettling feeling settled in her stomach, a cold knot of dread that had nothing to do with the morning chill. It felt like the silence before a thunderstorm.
Arch Duke Roy watched her for a moment. He saw the way she stood, the set of her jaw, the hand on the weapon-ornament in her hair. He gave a rare, almost imperceptible nod of approval. The girl had steel in her spine.
"Come inside, girl," Roy commanded, turning back to the massive doors of the manor. "We have work to do."
"Yes, Your Grace," Jasmin said, tearing her eyes away from the empty road.
Roy intended to give her training because she has potential to use diamond like the steel.
But miles away, in a dark cellar beneath the capital, a scrying bowl filled with black liquid rippled. A pair of red eyes watched the carriage depart in the reflection. A voice, sounding like dry leaves skittering on stone, whispered into the darkness.
"The variable is removed. The Knight has left the board."
A second voice, deeper and hungrier, answered. "Then the Lion King is exposed. Begin the operation. Burn the house."
The shadows in the capital lengthened, stretching towards the north, towards the estate that suddenly felt very, very far away from help.
It had been three days since Lloyd Ferrum departed for the southern territories. The Ferrum Estate, usually a bustling hub of military precision and logistical marvels, had settled into a tense but functional rhythm. The soldiers drilled in the yard, the servants scrubbed the stone floors, and the air was filled with the smell of iron and pine. It was a normal Tuesday, right up until the moment the sun decided to die.
It didn't happen slowly. There was no gradual gathering of storm clouds or the rumble of distant thunder. One moment, the sky was a crisp, clear northern blue. The next, it was the color of a three-day-old bruise. A sickly, vibrant purple light washed over the entire duchy, tinting the white stone walls of the fortress with a nauseating hue. The birds stopped singing instantly. The wind died. It was as if the world itself had held its breath in anticipation of a blow it knew it couldn't dodge.
On the ramparts of the main wall, the Captain of the Guard squinted up at the sun, which now looked like a bloated, infected eye staring down at them. He was a veteran of three border wars, a man who had seen goblins, curse knights, and rogue mages. He had never seen the sky look like it was rotting.
"Sound the alarm!" he bellowed, his voice cracking slightly. "Full defensive positions! Shields up! Archers to the towers!"
The bells began to ring, a frantic, clanging sound that echoed off the mountains. But there was no enemy army on the horizon. There were no siege towers rolling toward the gates, no legions of skeletal warriors marching in lockstep. The horizon was empty. The threat wasn't coming from the north, south, east, or west. It was coming from above.
A single black dot appeared in the center of the purple sun. It grew larger, descending slowly, casually. It wasn't falling; falling implies a lack of control. This figure was lowering itself, like a man stepping off a carriage.
As the figure got closer, the pressure began. It wasn't a wind. It was a physical weight, pressing down on the shoulders of every living thing in the castle. The horses in the stables screamed and buckled, their legs giving out. In the kitchens, ceramic plates shattered on the shelves from the vibration in the air. The guards on the wall fell to their knees, gasping for air as if the oxygen had been replaced by lead.
The figure touched down in the center of the main courtyard. He didn't land with a crash. He didn't leave a crater. He touched the stone pavement as lightly as a feather, yet the shockwave of his arrival blew out every glass window in the main keep.
Chapter : 1586
He was beautiful. That was the most terrifying thing about him. He didn't have horns, or a tail, or skin made of lava. He looked like a human man in his prime, tall and perfectly proportioned. He wore a suit of pristine white armor that seemed to be made of bone and starlight, with a long, flowing cape of deep crimson. His hair was black, slicked back, and his eyes were the color of amethyst.
He stood there, in the center of the chaos he had caused, and he looked bored. He looked around the courtyard, at the soldiers struggling to stand, at the panicked servants peering from windows, and he sighed. It was a sigh of profound disappointment.
"Is this it?" he said. His voice wasn't loud, yet it was heard by everyone in the castle, from the dungeons to the highest tower. It bypassed the ears and spoke directly to the brain stem. "I was told the Lions of the North were formidable. But all I see are trembling dogs."
This was Lucifer. The Devil King of Pride. He hadn't brought an army because he didn't need one. He didn't bring generals because he didn't share glory. He had come alone because, in his mind, he was more than enough to erase a human bloodline from the face of the earth.
The Captain of the Guard, veins bulging in his neck from the effort, managed to force himself to his feet. He was a brave man, perhaps foolishly so. He drew his sword, the steel scraping loudly in the silence.
"You are trespassing on the land of House Ferrum!" the Captain roared, though his legs were shaking. "Identify yourself or die!"
Lucifer turned his head slowly to look at the Captain. He didn't draw a weapon. He didn't raise a hand. He just looked. And then, he smiled. It wasn't a smile of joy. It was the smile a boot gives to an ant.
"Identify myself?" Lucifer mused. "You do not ask the sun for its name before it burns you, little man. You just burn."
The pressure in the courtyard spiked. It went from heavy to crushing. The flagstones beneath Lucifer's feet cracked, a spiderweb of fractures spreading out from him in a perfect circle. He took a single step forward. The sheer arrogance radiating from him was a physical force, a tangible wave of superiority that hit the defenders like a physical wall.
"I am not here for war," Lucifer stated, brushing an invisible speck of dust from his white pauldron. "War implies that there is a chance for the other side to win. War implies a struggle. This? This is housekeeping. This is taking out the trash. I am here for an execution."
The terror in the courtyard was absolute. It wasn't just fear of death; it was the primal fear of a prey animal in the presence of an apex predator. The soldiers of House Ferrum were trained to fight men, beasts, and even magic users. But they weren't trained to fight gravity. They weren't trained to fight a concept. And that is what Lucifer was. He was the concept of Pride made flesh.
"Form ranks!" the Captain screamed, trying to rally his men. "Attack! Don't let him take another step! For the Arch Duke! For the North!"
It was a valiant effort. About fifty House Guards, the elite shock troops of the estate, managed to overcome the crushing pressure through sheer force of will. They roared their battle cries, raised their halberds and swords, and charged. It was a wave of steel and discipline, a coordinated assault that would have broken a cavalry charge.
They rushed toward the lone figure in white. They were ten feet away. Five feet away.
Lucifer didn't blink. He didn't shift his stance. He didn't even look at them. He simply released a fraction of his spiritual pressure, focusing it outward like a pulse.
Thrum.
The sound was like a heavy book slamming shut.
The charging guards didn't fly backward. They didn't burn. They simply stopped. The air around Lucifer became harder than diamond, heavier than a mountain. The fifty men hit that invisible wall of pressure and were instantly, horrifyingly flattened.