[Empire Qashmar — House Vaelric — The Next Morning]
Morning arrived, but for Kael...there was no peace. Silence blanketed House Vaelric.
Servants moved quietly through the manor, careful not to disturb their young master, who had finally returned after disappearing into the hands of the Shadow King.
Yet no one knew...that Kael had never truly returned; he stood alone before the open window of his chamber. The morning breeze carried the scent of pine forests. Normally...that scent had always calmed him.
Today...it felt empty; his amber eyes remained fixed upon the distant horizon. Somewhere beyond those endless mountains...hidden from every map in the empire...stood Nhar’Zhul Veyth.
The land of the Shadow King.
His fingers unconsciously drifted toward the strange mark resting above his heart, and it remained warm.
His fingertips lingered over it as he whispered. "I should be relieved...I should be happy, so why...does my heart feel so heavy?"
Silence answered him.
Then—
KNOCK.
KNOCK.
"My Lord?"
The chamber door slowly opened, and an elderly man dressed in the formal black uniform of House Vaelric stepped inside. His silver hair had begun to thin with age, yet his posture remained perfectly straight.
It was Edric, the chief butler of House Vaelric. Edric bowed respectfully. "Young Master, his Grace has requested your presence in the dining hall."
Kael nodded. "I’ll be there."
Edric smiled gently; without another word, the old butler stepped aside, allowing Kael to leave first.
***
[House Vaelric — Dining Hall — Later]
The grand dining hall was unusually quiet; sunlight poured through the tall windows, illuminating the long oak table where only two people sat.
Grand Duke Lior and Kael. Servants moved silently around them, placing breakfast upon the table before retreating several steps away.
Neither father nor son spoke; only the faint clinking of silver utensils echoed through the hall. Finally...Lior placed his cup down.
"Everything has changed."
Kael looked up. Grand Duke Lior’s eyes remained on the window overlooking the estate.
"The empire has lost its emperor." His voice remained calm. "Tharzek died without naming an heir; until a new ruler is chosen, the Imperial Court will govern Qashmar."
His expression darkened.
"And that...is when the real war begins."
Kael remained silent, and Grand Duke Lior continued, "The great houses will begin gathering allies, and the noble clans will turn against one another. Assassinations, betrayals, political marriages, and hidden alliances. They will smile at one another in daylight...and sharpen knives once night falls."
He finally looked directly at Kael as his voice became heavier.
"The throne does not remain empty for long, and when wolves begin fighting over a crown...they forget who the true enemy is."
Kael quietly listened. Lior leaned back in his chair and met his son’s gaze.
"So...until this storm passes...stay alive."
That was all, no command to become stronger and no reminder about House Vaelric’s honor. Just...stay alive.
Kael stared at his father for several long moments. Then...a small smile appeared on his face because...for the first time in his life he understood his father.
"Thank you." Grand Duke Lior frowned slightly. Kael lowered his eyes. "...For being my father."
Silence.
Grand Duke Lior’s hand tightened slightly around the cup in front of him; for a brief moment the stern Grand Duke disappeared.
Only a father remained; he slowly stood from his chair.
"You’ve thanked me too early."
Kael looked up. Lior walked around the table before stopping beside him; he rested one hand on Kael’s shoulder, firm, warm, and protective as his voice softened.
"I’ve spent years teaching you how to fight for this empire." His fingers tightened ever so slightly. "But today...I’m asking you to fight for yourself."
A long silence followed.
Then Lior withdrew his hand, and he adjusted the cloak over his shoulders.
"I must attend the Imperial Court. There will be arguments before noon and perhaps bloodshed before sunset."
He looked back once more.
"You don’t need to come today; rest."
Kael nodded. "Yes, Father."
Grand Duke Lior gave one last glance toward his son before turning away. Edric immediately stepped forward.
The old butler bowed before following him out of the dining hall; soon...the enormous room became silent once again. Kael remained seated alone, his untouched breakfast rested before him.
But his appetite had disappeared, without warning...a familiar face entered his thoughts. Long black hair, ancient golden eyes, and a cold voice that carried the weight of judgment.
"Take him. He is utterly useless to me."
Kael’s fingers slowly curled into a fist; the word escaped his lips before he realized it. "That’s a lie."
He looked down; the mark above his heart remained hidden beneath his clothes. Yet...he could still feel its warmth.
"This...is no ordinary mate’s mark." His amber eyes narrowed. "Lytharion knew something, and whatever happened beneath the Heart Tree...even he didn’t expect it."
Kael slowly rose from his chair; his mind had already reached a decision. "If answers exist...then House Vaelric’s archives will have them."
His hand unconsciously rested over the mark one last time.
"I will uncover the truth behind the Lunar Covenant...even if I have to search every forgotten record in this empire."
With quiet determination... Kael turned and walked toward the ancient library of House Vaelric.
***
[Empire Qashmar — Imperial Palace — The Grand Assembly Hall]
The throne stood empty. The golden crown rested upon a black silk cushion beneath the imperial banner.
No emperor, no heir, only silence. Yet that silence was more dangerous than any battlefield because every noble seated inside the Grand Assembly Hall carried the same thought—
The throne was vacant.
And whoever claimed it...would rule the Empire of Qashmar.
The enormous hall was packed; the leaders of every Great Wolf Clan had arrived. The White Wolf Clan. The Golden Wolf Clan. The Grey Wolf Clan. The Brown Wolf Clan.
And...the Red Wolf Clan.
At the very center of the assembly stood Grand Duke Lior Vaelric, alone. Every gaze inside the chamber rested upon him, some with admiration, others with hatred, and many with calculation.
An elderly noble suddenly rose from his seat.
"I accuse Grand Duke Lior Vaelric of murdering the Emperor!"
Immediately another noble stood.
"The Grand Duke has committed treason! He slew the Emperor inside the Imperial Palace; he should be executed!"
Voices erupted throughout the hall.
"He murdered the ruler; he has stained the imperial throne, so he must answer for his crime!"
Silence.
Grand Duke Lior remained standing, his expression never changed, and he neither defended himself...nor denied the accusation.
Because everything they had spoken was true.
Then a voice echoed across the chamber.
"Then shall we also execute every spirit that witnessed it?"
Silence.
Every noble turned; the speaker was an elderly man dressed in golden ceremonial robes.
The High Priest Azrakan Solmire of the Golden Wolf Clan, his ancient eyes calmly swept across the assembly.
"You speak of treason; you speak of murder, but tell me...which law stands above the judgment of a deity?"
No one answered.
High Priest Azrakan stepped forward as he directly looked at every noble’s eyes. "The Shadow King declared his judgment before thousands; the Emperor’s head was demanded as reparation for slaughtering the Ashkarath children. Will any among you declare that the judgment of a deity is unlawful?"
Silence.
Not a single noble dared answer because everyone knew the truth. A deity’s judgment...was older than kingdoms. Older than emperors, to deny it was to challenge the spirits themselves, even if that deity is called monster.
"So...Grand Duke Lior cannot be judged under Imperial Law."
The hall fell into uneasy silence. Immediately another noble rose, a sharp-faced man wearing the white robes of the White Wolf Clan from House Valtheris.
"If he cannot be punished...then neither should he remain the guardian of the throne."
Several nobles nodded.
"He murdered the Emperor; he commands the strongest military, and I believe House Vaelric is too dangerous. If the throne remains empty...what prevents House Vaelric from simply taking it?"
The question struck the hall like lightning.
Now...the accusations changed. It was no longer about justice. It was about fear. One by one...the clan leaders began speaking.
"The Red Wolves command nearly forty percent of the Imperial Army; the northern fortresses answer to House Vaelric, and they possess the greatest number of Alpha warriors. If Lior desires the throne...who among us could stop him?"
The atmosphere immediately changed; eyes shifted not toward the empty throne but toward Lior with fear.
Grand Duke Lior slowly lifted his head; his amber eyes swept across every clan leader seated within the chamber.
Then...he spoke for the first time.
"I have no desire for the throne."
Silence.
His voice remained calm.
"My sword has protected this empire. It has never ruled it; the emperor is dead, and the empire mourns, and yet...you have already begun measuring the crown."
No one answered because every word was true; the hall had not gathered to mourn; they had gathered to calculate, to bargain, and to decide who would become the next emperor.
An old grey wolf from House Voss, a strategist, quietly smiled. "As expected...the wolves have begun circling the carcass."
No one heard him, or perhaps...they simply pretended not to because everyone inside that chamber...was already playing the same game.
A game of smiles, promises, hidden daggers, and empty loyalties. Above them...the Imperial Throne remained empty, waiting and watching.
Then High Priest Azrakan slowly stepped into the center of the assembly once more; the hall gradually fell silent. Every pair of eyes turned toward the elderly priest; he looked neither at the throne...nor at Grand Duke Lior.
Instead, his gaze swept across every Great House gathered within the chamber.
"The empire stands upon the edge of another war. If one among us ascends the throne today...every clan unwilling to kneel will unsheathe its sword tomorrow."
Azrakan slowly continued, "Should an elder become emperor...the balance between the great houses will collapse. The empire will bleed before winter arrives."
A long silence followed. Then...the old priest lifted his head.
"I therefore propose another path."
Curiosity spread across the chamber.
"Let no elder of any Great House...claim the throne."
The nobles frowned. Even Lior narrowed his eyes. Azrakan continued, "The generation that has ruled this empire has already failed it. They allowed greed to blind judgment, they allowed one emperor’s arrogance to provoke a deity, and they brought Qashmar to the brink of ruin."
His gaze slowly swept across every noble.
"So...let their heirs answer for the future instead."
Silence.
The proposal hung heavily over the assembly, then murmurs erupted from every corner.
"The heirs? A competition?"
"You would entrust the empire to children?"
"I do not speak of children. I speak of those born to inherit our names and those destined to lead our clans." Azhrakan turned toward the empty throne. "Give every Great House the right to present its heir. For one year...let them govern, fight, negotiate, protect, and prove that they possess the wisdom worthy of the throne."
His eyes slowly lifted toward the ceiling, then toward the stained-glass moon carved high above the assembly.
"And when the next first lunar moon rises after a year...we shall gather before the Sacred Spirits to witness. Let the Spirits judge; let the First Lunar Moon decide...which heir and which Great House...is worthy to wear the Imperial Crown."
The hall fell into complete silence because for the first time since the emperor’s death...a proposal had been offered that no clan could openly reject.
It was fair. It honored the spirits and, most importantly...it gave every great house hope, and it was far easier to accept than another civil war.
One by one...the clan leaders slowly rose from their seats.
"I support the high priest."
"The White Wolf Clan agrees."
"The Grey Wolf Clan accepts."
"The Brown Wolf Clan has no objection."
Soon...voices echoed from every corner of the chamber. Finally...all eyes turned toward Grand Duke Lior. The man standing at the center of every accusation.
"House Vaelric...accepts the judgment of the Spirits," Grand Duke Lior said.
"So be it." The Grand Duke’s voice echoed throughout the Grand Assembly Hall. "From this day forward...the heirs shall determine the future of the Empire of Qashmar. And one year from now...beneath the First Lunar Moon...the spirits themselves shall choose the next emperor."
Above them the empty throne remained silent, as though it had already begun waiting for its next master.
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