Chapter 31: The Tyrant’s Paradox
Lucien Mason sat on the throne of obsidian, fingers drumming against the armrest. The throne room was dark, lit only by scarlet torches that cast flickering shadows across the crimson veins embedded in the walls. Ever since the massacre of the Silverfang nobles, his name had spread like wildfire across the Eastern Dominion. King-slayers, tyrant, demon... they whispered it all, but one truth echoed above all else—
Lucien was unstoppable.
A new title burned on his system interface.
> Title Unlocked: Tyrant of Bloodfire
Your aura instills dread in enemies and loyalty in followers. All charisma-related actions are tripled in effectiveness when in combat.
He leaned back, eyes glowing a shade deeper than red. Ever since awakening the dormant bloodline—the Forbidden Emperor’s Line—his body had changed. Taller, leaner, faster. His eyes could now see the spiritual flow in living beings. The veins of fate themselves revealed their patterns to him like a tapestry of destiny.
But peace was a lie.
The palace doors burst open with such force that the reinforced hinges cracked. Ancient protective wards flared briefly before dying, as if whatever approached had simply dismissed them.
"Milord," gasped Kallan, his second-in-command, dragging a bloodied knight behind him. The knight’s armor was melted in places, and his eyes held the thousand-yard stare of a man who had witnessed horrors beyond comprehension. "A messenger from the Midnight Crown. They request your presence."
Lucien stood, cloak whipping behind him like liquid shadow. The very air around him seemed to thicken with malevolent energy.
"Midnight Crown? I thought they vanished after the Purge."
"They returned," Kallan said grimly, his voice barely concealing terror. "And they brought... this."