Chapter : 1533

  "It is exactly what we expected," Lloyd said. He walked over to the King. He opened his medical bag. It wasn't the prop bag he used for Doctor Zayn. This was his real kit.

  Inside, nestled in velvet, was a set of long, silver needles.

  "Lloyd," Seraphina said, using his real name for the first time in hours. "What are you going to do?"

  "I am going to burn the candle at both ends," Lloyd said grimly.

  He took out the needles. He took out a small vial of a pungent, green liquid—a stimulant refined from the venom of a desert scorpion. It was dangerous. It was toxic. But it was potent.

  "His mind is fogged because his body is addicted to the poison Cassius fed him," Lloyd explained. "I can't cure the addiction in five minutes. But I can... override it."

  He looked at Seraphina.

  "I can use acupuncture and the stimulant to force his body into a state of hyper-lucidity," Lloyd said. "I can clear the fog. I can give him his strength back. His voice. His command."

  "That sounds good," Seraphina said hopefully.

  "It comes with a price," Lloyd said. His voice was heavy. "It burns life force. He is old. He is weak. If I do this... he will have maybe one hour of clarity. One hour of strength. And after that..."

  He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't have to.

  Seraphina looked at her father. She looked at the shaking, drooling shell of the man who used to carry her on his shoulders.

  "Will he... will he die?" she whispered.

  "Not immediately," Lloyd said. "But it will weaken him further. It will shorten his time. But Seraphina... look at him. Is this living? Right now, he is a victim. If I do this, he gets to be a King one last time. He gets to choose."

  Seraphina squeezed the King's hand.

  "Father?" she asked softly. "Can you hear me?"

  Aurelius looked at her. For a second, there was a flicker of recognition. "Sera? The... the darkness..."

  "The darkness is here, Father," she said. "We need the King. We need you to fight. But it will hurt. Do you want to fight?"

  The King’s hand tightened on hers. He didn't speak. He just nodded. Once. A sharp, jerky movement.

  Seraphina looked at Lloyd. She wiped her tears.

  "Do it," she said.

  Lloyd nodded. "Hold him steady."

  He took a needle. He dipped it in the green venom.

  "Ken," Lloyd said. "Watch the door. If anyone comes in before I am done, kill them."

  "Understood," Ken said, raising his rifle.

  Lloyd activated his [All-Seeing Eye]. The King's body lit up in his vision—a map of failing organs and clogged energy pathways.

  "This is going to sting," Lloyd whispered.

  He plunged the first needle into the King's neck.

  Aurelius gasped. His back arched.

  Lloyd didn't stop. He moved with a blur of speed. Needles went into the chest, the temples, the wrists. He was rerouting the King's entire nervous system, bypassing the damaged receptors, flooding the brain with adrenaline and mana.

  It was a dangerous, forbidden technique. It was something he had learned in a book he shouldn't have read.

  "Wake up," Lloyd commanded, driving the final needle into the center of the King's forehead.

  The King screamed. It wasn't a scream of pain. It was a roar.

  The room went silent.

  The shaking stopped. The King sat up. His spine straightened. The gray color faded from his cheeks, replaced by a flush of red.

  He opened his eyes. The fog was gone. The confusion was gone.

  In their place was cold, hard iron.

  King Aurelius looked at his hands. He looked at Seraphina. He looked at Lloyd.

  Then he stood up. He didn't stumble. He stood tall, towering over them. He ripped the blanket off his shoulders as if it were a shackle.

  "Where is my sword?" King Aurelius asked. His voice was deep, resonant, and absolutely commanding.

  Lloyd pointed to a display case on the wall, where a ceremonial blade rested.

  Aurelius walked over. He punched the glass. It shattered. He took the sword. He drew it. The steel sang.

  "My son thinks I am dead," the King said. He turned to the door. "Let us go and correct him."

  The corridor outside the King’s old chambers was a kill zone waiting to happen. The red carpet, usually pristine, was scuffed with the marks of hurried boots. The magical lamps on the walls flickered, their mana feeds disrupted by the lockdown protocols.

  Chapter : 1534

  A squad of ten soldiers marched down the hall. They wore the black armor of the Obsidian Eye. They were the elite. The cleaners.

  "Check every room," the Squad Leader barked, his voice distorted by his helm. "The Prince wants them found. The order is execution. No prisoners."

  "What about the Princess?" a soldier asked.

  "The Prince said she is compromised," the Leader said. "If she resists... neutralize her."

  They reached the end of the hall. There was a tapestry hanging there, depicting an old hunt.

  "Behind there," the Leader said. "The Old Queen's rooms. It's the only place we haven't checked."

  He signaled two men forward. They ripped the tapestry down. Behind it was a heavy wooden door.

  "Breach it," the Leader ordered.

  One of the soldiers stepped up and kicked the lock. Wood splintered. The door swung open with a bang.

  The soldiers rushed in, swords drawn, expecting to find a cowering doctor and a weeping girl. They expected easy prey.

  What they found was a nightmare.

  The room was dim, lit only by the moonlight and a few candles. In the center of the room stood a man.

  He was not cowering. He was not weeping.

  He was wearing a simple nightshirt, but he stood as if he were clad in full plate mail. In his hand was a heavy broadsword, the steel gleaming in the candlelight. His face was lined with age, but his eyes... his eyes were burning with a terrifying, golden intensity.

  It was the King.

  Not the sick, trembling invalid they had seen shuffled around the gardens. This was Aurelius the Lion, the man who had led the charge at the Battle of Black River thirty years ago.

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  Behind him stood the refugees—Jasmin, Risa, and the children. And guarding his flank were the Doctor and the bodyguard, looking calm and dangerous.

  The soldiers froze. Their training screamed at them to attack. Their orders were absolute. But their instincts rebelled. This was the King. The man whose face was on the coins in their pockets. The man they had sworn oaths to.

  "Halt!" the Squad Leader shouted, trying to regain control. "In the name of the Crown Prince!"

  "The Crown Prince?" King Aurelius’s voice rolled across the room like thunder. It wasn't loud, but it had weight. It hit the soldiers in the chest. "Since when does the Prince give orders while the King still breathes?"

  "Your Majesty," the Leader stammered, taking a half-step back. "We... we were told you were incapacitated. We were told there were spies holding you hostage."

  "I see no spies here," Aurelius said, gesturing with his sword to Lloyd and Ken. "I see my physician. I see my guests. And I see traitors breaking into my wife's bedroom with drawn steel."

  He took a step forward. The soldiers took a step back. The psychological pressure was immense.

  Lloyd watched from the side, his hand hovering near his belt where he kept his flash-bangs. He was amazed. The acupuncture was working better than he expected. The King was burning through his life force at an incredible rate, but he was channeling it into pure presence.

  "Lower your weapons," Aurelius commanded.

  The soldiers looked at each other. They were wavering.

  "Don't listen to him!" the Leader yelled, desperate. "He is sick! His mind is gone! The Prince is Regent! The order stands! Secure the targets!"

  The Leader lunged forward, raising his sword. He was committed. He knew if he backed down now, Cassius would kill him.

  "Treason," Aurelius whispered.

  The old King didn't wait. He moved.

  It wasn't the fast, flashy movement of a young man. It was the brutal, efficient economy of a veteran. He stepped inside the Leader's guard. He parried the blow with a clash of sparks. And then he drove the pommel of his sword into the Leader's helmet.

  CRUNCH.

  The Leader dropped like a stone.

  The other soldiers gasped.

  Aurelius stood over the fallen man. He looked at the squad.

  "Who is next?" the King asked. "Who else wants to strike their King?"

  Silence. Absolute silence.

  Then, a clatter. One soldier dropped his sword. Then another.

  They fell to their knees. They put their heads to the floor.

  "Forgive us, Majesty!" one cried. "We didn't know!"

  Aurelius looked at them with sadness. "Get up. Guard the door. If any more of my son's dogs come... show them whose house this is."

  "Yes, Majesty!"

  Lloyd let out a breath. "That," he whispered to Ken, "was impressive."

  "Old lion still has teeth," Ken agreed.

  Chapter : 1535

  But Lloyd saw the tremor in the King's hand. He saw the sweat on his brow. The energy was finite. The clock was ticking.

  "We have to move," Lloyd said, stepping up to the King. "Majesty, we can't stay here. Cassius will send more. He will send men who don't know your face. Or men who don't care."

  "To the Throne Room," Aurelius said. "If I am to die tonight, I will die on my throne. And I will make sure the entire court sees who kills me."

  "The Throne Room," Seraphina agreed, stepping out from behind her father. She looked pale, but determined. "The amplification array is there. We can speak to the city."

  "Then let us go," Aurelius said. "Doctor. You and your man... take the point. I will guard the rear."

  "With respect, Majesty," Ken said, racking his rifle. "No one gets behind you while I'm breathing."

  They formed a wedge. Ken and Lloyd at the front. The King and Seraphina in the center with the children. The converted soldiers forming a rear guard.

  They marched out of the room and into the hallway. They were no longer hiding. They were invading.

  ----

  The march to the Throne Room was a running battle. The palace was in chaos. Servants were fleeing. Loyalists were fighting Obsidian Eye troops in the corridors. The sound of steel on steel rang everywhere.

  Lloyd used his [All-Seeing Eye] to scan ahead, spotting ambushes before they happened.

  "Three on the left," Lloyd called out.

  Ken didn't hesitate. He fired three shots. Bang. Bang. Bang. Three soldiers dropped before they could even raise their crossbows.

  "Clear," Ken grunted.

  They reached the Grand Staircase. Below them lay the approach to the Throne Room. But it was blocked.

  A barricade of furniture had been erected. Behind it stood fifty Obsidian Eye soldiers. And leading them was a man in dark robes. A warlock.

  "They are dug in," Lloyd assessed. "We can't go through them without heavy casualties."

  "We don't have time to go around," Aurelius said. He was breathing hard. The stimulant was peaking. His eyes were wild.

  "I can breach it," Lloyd said. "But it will be loud."

  "Loud is good," Ken said. "Loud is scary."

  Lloyd reached into his bag. He pulled out the brick of alchemical explosive he had saved. He stuck a detonator into it.

  "Kasim," Lloyd said. "How is your throwing arm?"

  "Functioning," Ken said.

  "Aim for the warlock," Lloyd said. "Three seconds on the fuse."

  He lit the fuse. He tossed the brick to Ken.

  Ken caught it. He stepped out from cover. He hurled the brick.

  It sailed over the heads of the soldiers. It landed right at the warlock's feet.

  BOOM.

  The barricade disintegrated. The warlock vanished in a cloud of fire and splinters. The soldiers were thrown back, stunned.

  "Charge!" Aurelius roared.

  He led the way, running down the stairs with a speed that defied his age. Lloyd and Ken followed, firing into the smoke.

  They crashed into the disorganized soldiers. It was a melee. Close quarters. Brutal.

  Lloyd used his Steel Blood. He manifested chains from his sleeves, whipping them around, tripping soldiers, disarming them. He wasn't using lethal force if he could help it—these were just grunts following orders—but he wasn't being gentle.

  Ken was a machine. He used his rifle as a club, smashing helmets. He moved with efficient violence, protecting the children.

  Jasmin stayed in the center, shielding Risa. Her skin shimmered with diamond hardness, deflecting stray arrows.

  They broke through the line. The doors to the Throne Room were ahead. They were massive, golden, and closed.

  "Open them!" Aurelius commanded.

  Ken and Lloyd put their shoulders to the wood. They pushed.

  The doors groaned and swung inward.

  The Throne Room was occupied.

  Prince Cassius stood at the foot of the throne. He was surrounded by his inner circle—generals, ministers, and his personal guard of twenty elites.

  They looked up as the doors opened.

  They saw the smoke. They saw the blood. And they saw the King.

  Cassius’s face went slack. For a moment, just a moment, the mask of the arrogant prince slipped, revealing the terrified boy underneath.

  "Father?" he whispered.

  Aurelius walked into the room. He was covered in dust. His sword was bloody. He looked magnificent.

  "Get off my steps, boy," Aurelius said. His voice echoed in the vast hall.

  The ministers gasped. They looked from the Prince to the King. The legitimacy of the coup just walked in the door and told it to get out.

  Chapter : 1536

  Cassius recovered. His eyes hardened. He saw Lloyd. He saw Seraphina. He saw the children.

  He realized he was cornered. There was no talking his way out of this.

  "He is not the King!" Cassius shouted, pointing a shaking finger. "Look at him! He is mad! He is possessed! That doctor... that sorcerer... he has reanimated him! It is necromancy!"

  It was a desperate lie. But the elites of the Obsidian Eye didn't care about truth. They cared about orders.

  "Kill them!" Cassius screamed. "Kill the abomination! Kill them all!"

  The elites drew their weapons. These weren't standard guards. They were Ascended-level warriors. Their armor glowed with enchantments.

  "Protect the King!" Lloyd shouted.

  He stepped forward. He didn't summon his spirits. Not yet. He needed to save his mana for the big fight.

  He raised his hands. Steel chains erupted from the floor, creating a spiked barrier between the group and the charging elites.

  "Ken!" Lloyd yelled. "Hold the line!"

  "With pleasure," Ken growled.

  The final battle for the soul of Altamira had begun. And it was happening right at the foot of the throne.

  The Throne Room of Saber was vast, a cavern of black marble and gold pillars designed to intimidate. Now, it was a battlefield.

  Twenty elite Obsidian Eye warriors charged. They moved with supernatural speed, their blades wreathed in dark magic. They were the best killers money and corruption could buy.

  Against them stood a doctor, a bodyguard, a handmaiden, a frail princess, and a dying King.

  "Hold!" Lloyd roared.

  He slammed his hands together. The steel chains he had summoned wove themselves into a dense, thorny wall. The first wave of elites crashed into it. Sparks flew as enchanted swords bit into Lloyd's Void steel.

  "Break it!" an elite captain shouted. "Use force magic!"

  Three elites stepped back. They raised their gauntlets. purple energy gathered in their palms.

  BOOM-BOOM-BOOM.

  Force bolts slammed into the chain wall. It shuddered. Metal twisted and groaned.

  "It won't hold!" Lloyd gritted his teeth. The strain on his Void reserves was immense.

  Ken Park stepped through a gap in the chains. He had discarded his ruined rifle. He held a pair of heavy, serrated combat knives—weapons Lloyd had forged for him.

  "I will buy you time," Ken said.

  He didn't wait. He charged the elites.

  It was suicide. One man against twenty Ascended warriors.

  But Ken wasn't just a man. He was a King-Level user suppressing his power. Even without his spirit, his physical stats were monstrous.

  He ducked under a sword swing. He slashed the elite's hamstring. He spun, driving his other knife into the gap of another elite's armor.

  He was a whirlwind of violence. He didn't fight honorably. He fought to kill. He used elbows, knees, headbutts. He moved like a dancer made of granite.

  "Monster!" an elite screamed as Ken broke his arm like a twig.

  "No," Ken grunted, kicking the man into his comrades. "Just the help."

  But there were too many. They surrounded him. Blades cut at him from all angles. His armor was sliced. Blood began to flow.

  "Ken!" Jasmin screamed.

  "Stay back!" Lloyd ordered. "Shield the children!"

  Jasmin transformed fully into the Diamond Queen. Her skin became a faceted, unbreakable prism. She stood in front of Risa and the others, a living statue of defiance.

  A stray force bolt flew over the chains. It hit Jasmin in the chest.

  CLANG.

  She didn't budge. The bolt shattered against her diamond skin. She glared at the shooter.

  Meanwhile, Cassius was screaming orders from the safety of the dais.

  "Flank them! Get to the King! Cut his head off!"

  The elites split. Five of them ran up the walls, using gravity-defying boots. They were aiming to drop behind Lloyd’s barrier.

  "Father," Seraphina said. She was standing beside the King. Her face was white, but her eyes were burning gold. "The array. We need the array."

  The King nodded. He was leaning on his sword, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The hour was ticking down.

  "The control crystal," Aurelius wheezed. "It's on the arm of the throne. Cassius is standing right next to it."

  "I can get there," Seraphina said.

  "No," Lloyd said, maintaining the barrier. "He will kill you."

  "He won't expect me," she said. "He thinks I am weak."

  She looked at Lloyd.

  "Drop the barrier for a second," she said. "Just a hole. Enough for me."

  "Seraphina..."

  "Trust me, Zayn," she said.

  Lloyd looked at her. He saw the queen waking up.

  "Go," he said.

  He flexed his will. A small gap opened in the steel wall.