The war in the forest did not end quickly.
It raged.
Steel clashed against steel, cries of men echoing beneath the towering trees as blood soaked into the earth. One by one, bodies fell—until the ground itself seemed to swallow the living.
And through it all—
Suho did not retreat.
He fought like a man with only one purpose left in the world.
To protect.
To survive.
To keep Minsoo alive.
"Stay behind me!" he ordered, his blade cutting down another approaching enemy.
Minsoo's breath came unevenly, her hands trembling as she clung to the edge of consciousness, the horrors around her too much to bear.
The battle dragged on—
Until eventually…
Silence.
Not peace.
But extinction.
No one remained standing.
⸻
Far away, within the palace walls—
A messenger fell to his knees before the king's uncle, his voice shaking.
"My lord… the battle in the forest—everyone is dead."
A pause.
"The war has ended."
The uncle's expression did not change.
"…and the king?"
The messenger hesitated.
"…his body was not found."
Silence fell.
Heavy.
Then slowly—
A smile touched the uncle's lips.
Cold.
Knowing.
"So… he lives."
⸻
At the edge of the forest—
Hidden beneath shadow and exhaustion—
The king still breathed.
Beside him stood his personal guard, bloodied but unbroken.
Together—
They had escaped.
Not by strength alone.
But by instinct.
By survival.
By fate.
⸻
The uncle did not wait.
By nightfall, he rode for the forest himself.
When he arrived—
He saw it.
A battlefield of the dead.
Bodies scattered in every direction, the aftermath of complete annihilation.
But no king.
His expression darkened.
He searched.
Again.
And again.
Nothing.
The truth settled in like poison.
The king had survived.
Rage flickered across his face.
Without another word—
He turned back.
⸻
The palace doors slammed open as he entered.
His steps were sharp, filled with restrained fury.
He did not stop until he reached the chambers of the Grand Prince's mother.
She rose as he entered, her expression tense.
"My lord—"
"The king is missing," he cut in coldly. "Which means he lives."
Her face paled.
"What are you saying?"
"I am saying," he stepped closer, voice dropping, "we do not wait for him to return."
Silence filled the room.
Then—
His command fell like judgment.
"Prepare the court."
Her breath caught.
"The Grand Prince will be crowned king."
⸻
The next day—
The palace transformed.
Not into mourning.
But into ceremony.
Ministers gathered.
Guards lined the halls.
And before the throne—
The Grand Prince was crowned.
A king—
Born from chaos.
Seated upon a throne drenched in blood.
Yet even as the crown touched his head—
Whispers spread like wildfire.
The true king…
Was nowhere to be found.
⸻
Far from the palace—
Hidden deep within a quiet refuge—
Minsoo wept.
Days had passed, yet her tears had not stopped.
Grief consumed her.
Fear held her captive.
"Eat," Suho said gently, placing food before her.
She didn't move.
Her voice broke instead.
"…he's gone, isn't he?"
Suho said nothing.
But his silence was not agreement—
It was restraint.
⸻
Until one fateful morning—
Everything changed.
Suho entered quickly, his usual calm shaken.
"Minsoo."
She looked up, her eyes swollen from endless tears.
"There's news."
Her heart skipped.
"…what news?"
He held her gaze.
"The king is alive."
For a moment—
She forgot how to breathe.
"And by tomorrow…"
A pause.
"He will return to the palace."
Hope surged through her like light breaking through darkness.
For the first time in days—
She smiled.
⸻
The palace gates opened.
And he walked in.
Alive.
Unbroken.
The air shifted instantly.
Servants froze.
Guards lowered their heads.
And at the center of it all—
The king stood once more.
His gaze swept the hall—
Until it landed on one man.
His uncle.
Seated beside the throne.
Watching.
Waiting.
"So," the uncle said calmly, "you survived."
The king stepped forward, his voice cold.
"I should say the same… traitor."
A faint chuckle escaped the uncle.
"Careful. You stand before your king now."
The king's eyes darkened.
"Greed has made you shameless."
Silence thickened.
"To think," the king continued, "that my own blood would crawl this low for power."
Then—
His gaze shifted.
And stopped.
Miya.
Standing beside his uncle.
Smiling.
Amused.
As if all of this—
Was nothing but entertainment.
A flicker of disappointment crossed his face.
"…what more was I expecting from you?"
Her smile faltered.
Then twisted into anger.
"You lost," she snapped. "Accept it."
The king looked back at his uncle.
For a moment—
The fire in his eyes dimmed.
Not into weakness.
But into something quieter.
More dangerous.
"I am no longer king," he said.
The words stunned the room.
"But hear this—"
His voice hardened.
"No one follows me."
A pause.
"No one hunts me."
Silence.
Then—
Without another word—
He turned.
And walked away.
⸻
The forest awaited him once more.
But this time—
There was no army.
No guards.
No kingdom.
Just silence.
And shadows.
He walked alone—
Until a voice stopped him.
"I knew you would come this way."
The king stilled.
Slowly—
He turned.
His uncle stood behind him.
Sword already drawn.
"So even in defeat," the uncle said, stepping forward, "you remain predictable."
The king's grip tightened on his blade.
"This ends here."
The uncle smiled.
"Yes."
His voice dropped—
Cold.
Final.
"It does."
And then—
They moved.
⸻