The discussion room of Ashkara Royal Castle was sealed tight, as it always was when truth—not ceremony—was to be spoken.

  Thick stone walls swallowed sound before it could escape. Heavy crimson curtains smothered the night sky, blotting out stars and moon alike. Even the torches burned low, their flames disciplined, as if they too understood where they were.

  At the center of the chamber stretched a long obsidian table, its surface etched with sigils of authority, conquest, and centuries of unbroken rule. Each mark had been carved by decree, blood, or war.

  Around it sat the Eight Flags of the Kingdom—each a living embodiment of power and policy. Behind them stood the Three Royal Knights Captains, silent but watchful.

  At the head of the table sat King Akiyama Ashen.

  He removed his gauntlets slowly, deliberately, and placed them upon the obsidian surface.

  The faint clink echoed louder than it should have.

  “Begin,” the King said calmly.

  Hoshin Kurobane, the Gold Flag, spoke first. His sharp features were set like cut stone, jet-black hair tied neatly behind his head.

  “The criminal syndicate has been completely eradicated,” he said. “Every confirmed member is dead.”

  A murmur threatened to rise—but died quickly.

  Elira Vayne, the Blue Flag, folded her gloved hands. “Inspector Valen Croix confirmed the report. The bodies were still warm when examined. Whoever did this departed minutes before the knights arrived.”

  “Efficient,” Raiden Solcrest muttered. The Yellow Flag’s golden eyes narrowed. “Too efficient.”

  “At least the drug flow has stopped,” Mireya Thorne of the Green Flag said, her tone measured and deliberate. “For now.”

  Lysander Quill, the Pink Flag, leaned back slightly, fingers tapping the arm of his chair. “Stopped does not mean destroyed. Supply chains do not vanish overnight.”

  A deeper voice cut through the chamber.

  “Nor do monsters.”

  Valen Kyr, the Red Flag, rested his forearms on the table. “The boss. Varkhan Lucem. His death is… troubling.”

  The shift in atmosphere was immediate.

  Eyes turned, subtly and not, toward the far end of the table where a woman sat in composed silence.

  Ash-gray hair pulled into a strict bun. Pale eyes devoid of warmth or fear.

  Seraphine Morholt.

  “The Grey Flag,” Hoshin said, nodding toward her. “You examined the site personally.”

  Seraphine lifted her gaze. Her expression did not change.

  “The wounds were surgical,” she said. “No wasted motion. No hesitation.”

  She paused, choosing precision over speed.

  “Whoever killed Varkhan Lucem understood his power.”

  That drew full attention.

  “Hyper-critical,” Gideon Falk murmured. The First Royal Captain—Bloodline Conqueror—rested a gauntleted hand on the hilt at his side. “A man capable of ending battles in a single strike.”

  “And yet,” Itsuki Shiraishi said softly, the Silver Flag’s aged hands folded atop her cane, “he was killed.”

  Silence settled like ash.

  King Akiyama Ashen spoke again. “Explain the drug.”

  Elira inclined her head. “Ashveil is a synthetic alchemical compound. Its base ingredients include crushed nightshade resin, ether-laced mercury salts, fermented dreammoss spores, and a catalyst refined from void crystal dust.”

  Raiden scowled. “That mixture should kill anyone.”

  “It does,” Mireya replied. “Unless taken in precise ratios. It heightens perception, dulls pain, accelerates reaction time… and erodes sanity.”

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  “And loyalty,” Valen Kyr added. “Perfect for cult recruitment.”

  “The production alone requires advanced facilities,” Lysander said. “And someone with deep knowledge.”

  Seraphine’s pale gaze sharpened. “Which suggests external backing.”

  “Or,” Gideon said evenly, “someone we already know.”

  Rhen Calder had remained silent throughout. One boot rested casually over the other. Lemon perched on his shoulder, chewing a dried berry with cheerful indifference to the weight of the room.

  Rhen said nothing.

  King Akiyama Ashen looked directly at him. “Captain Calder. You led the squad.”

  Rhen lifted his eyes. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  “Your thoughts?”

  Rhen paused, measuring truth against consequence. “Whoever did this was decisive. They weren’t here to send a message.”

  He exhaled once.

  “They were here to erase a problem.”

  “And that concerns you,” the King observed.

  “Yes,” Rhen said evenly. “Anyone capable of this could be a threat.”

  Or an ally, he thought—but did not say.

  Hoshin exhaled slowly. “The cult remains.”

  “I regret to say,” Itsuki added, “we never identified the leader of Ashen Cradle.”

  Rhen’s eyes flickered.

  A memory surfaced unbidden.

  Red hair. Calm eyes.

  I should have asked.

  The King rose to his feet. “Then we remain vigilant. Meeting adjourned.”

  –––

  Later — Akitsu’s Apartment

  Night had fully settled by the time Rhen Calder stood before a quiet apartment door.

  He knocked once.

  Then twice.

  The door opened.

  Akitsu Shouga stood there, black hair damp as if he had just finished washing. He wore a simple dark shirt. His expression was neutral.

  Too neutral.

  “You’re late,” Akitsu said calmly.

  Rhen studied him. “…Did you kill everyone in the criminal syndicate without letting the knights handle it?”

  Akitsu blinked. “What are you talking about?”

  Rhen sighed inwardly.

  “May I come in?”

  Akitsu stepped aside.

  The apartment was modest. Clean.

  Too clean.

  Rhen sat at the table as Lemon immediately hopped down from his shoulder.

  “Got fruits?” Lemon asked cheerfully.

  Akitsu nodded, retrieved a bowl, and placed sliced fruit on the table. Lemon squeaked happily and began eating.

  Rhen leaned forward. “Stop doing risky things.”

  Akitsu poured himself a glass of water. “They came after me first.”

  “That doesn’t justify—”

  “They wouldn’t have stopped,” Akitsu interrupted quietly. “If I left, they would’ve followed. If I hid, they would’ve waited.”

  Rhen frowned. “You’re not wrong. But you’re not invincible.”

  Akitsu met his gaze. “I don’t need to be.”

  Silence stretched between them.

  “You’ll get caught,” Rhen said. “Knights. Flags. Someone will connect the dots.”

  Akitsu shrugged. “Then I’ll deal with it.”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  “It’s the only one I have.”

  Lemon paused mid-bite. “…You two sound like an old married couple.”

  Rhen groaned. “Lemon.”

  Akitsu almost smiled.

  Rhen stood. “Just… be careful.”

  Akitsu nodded once. “You too.”

  Rhen turned to leave, then paused at the door. “If you disappear again…”

  Akitsu said softly, “Don’t look for me.”

  Rhen did not reply.

  The door closed.

  And the night moved on.