The messenger rushed into the throne hall with hurried steps, his face pale and his forehead drenched in cold sweat. Although he tried to maintain a dignified tone, he could not conceal the fear that had crept into his voice. He bowed before the king before saying,
"Your Majesty, the gates of the capital have been breached. The enemy is advancing rapidly, and our forces are collapsing before them."
The entire hall seemed to tremble as the fragile silence that had filled the room vanished, replaced by a wave of tension and anxiety that swept across the faces of the ministers and royal attendants gathered around the throne. They exchanged terrified glances, searching desperately for a solution or an escape from the nightmare that had suddenly descended upon them.
As for the king, he stared blankly ahead as though his mind had yet to grasp the magnitude of the disaster that had befallen his kingdom. The eyes that had always shone with confidence and wisdom were now empty and unfocused, as if he were trying to gather together thoughts scattered like leaves in a storm.
But only a moment later, that emptiness gave way to overwhelming fury. He suddenly turned toward the ministers and members of the royal clan who had persuaded him to attack the Blue Dragon Kingdom, decorating the idea of war with grand promises and convincing him that victory would be theirs, that the lands of the Blue Dragon Kingdom would become nothing more than an easy addition to their own. His voice thundered through the hall.
"What now? Tell me... what do you have to say now, you worthless scum?"
His voice trembled with uncontrollable rage, each word striking them like a whip. None of them dared answer. Every one of them lowered their head, unable to meet his gaze, for they all knew they were the ones responsible for the catastrophe that had befallen both their kingdom and their royal clan.
A suffocating silence settled over the chamber, broken only by the ministers' heavy breathing. Had they simply been content with the power and prosperity they already possessed, had they never marched against the Blue Dragon Kingdom, they would still be ruling the strongest nation in the world.
It was highly unlikely that the Blue Dragon Kingdom would ever have attacked them, for it had always remained neutral, never interfering in the affairs of others and never waging war except in self-defense. Yet the arrogance born from their overwhelming strength, combined with the blind confidence that no one could possibly oppose them, had driven them straight into this abyss. Now they were paying the price of that cursed advice with their own lives.
The king looked at them with an expression that blended fury with despair. He wanted to scream, to curse them, to demand their heads, yet something deep within him perhaps the last remnant of a king's pride, or his awareness of the responsibility he carried as their ruler held him back.
He took a long breath and let out a weary sigh, as though exhaling every hope that had already turned to dust, before speaking in a calm yet razor-sharp voice.
"No one leaves this hall. Since we are the ones who brought this disaster upon ourselves, then we shall bear it together. We will face the consequences of our actions with death. The dignity of the throne demands nothing less. There will be no escape today."
The moment several people in the hall heard those words, their expressions changed instantly. Until then, many of them had secretly been thinking of ways to flee before the enemy reached the capital.
But after the king made it absolutely clear that no one would be allowed to leave, panic overtook them. They leapt from their seats and sprinted toward the side doors leading to hidden passages like a flock of sheep fleeing from a wolf.
The king vanished from his throne in an instant. No one saw him move. They heard only the faint sound of something slicing through the air, followed by muffled screams.
Whoosh.
In the blink of an eye, he had passed among them like a shadow. Three bodies collapsed to the floor before they could reach the secret passages, their necks severed by a single flawless strike, their eyes frozen wide open in disbelief even as death claimed them.
Standing in the center of the hall, the king looked down at the corpses gathering around his feet before raising his voice, calm yet filled with profound contempt.
"Worthless vermin... You would flee and abandon your kingdom and your own clan to face their fate alone. You do not even deserve to be buried beside your ancestors."
Then he slowly lifted his gaze toward those who remained, all of whom stood frozen in place, caught between the terror of staying and the terror of trying to escape, before continuing.
"No one moves from where they stand. Do you understand?"
Their hearts trembled as they answered together in hoarse voices.
"Yes, Your Majesty... We will remain until the very end."
Afterward, the king called to one of the servants standing quietly in the corner of the hall and said,
"Go to my uncle. Tell him to take some of the younger members of the clan with him. Do not let them die here in vain."
The servant bowed deeply before hurrying away to carry out the order, while the king remained seated upon his throne, quietly awaiting the fate from which there was no escape.
At the same time, in the streets of the capital, the five Lone Wolf warriors broke through the city's defenses with astonishing ease.
Their advance formed a straight line of destruction, cutting through everything before them as they systematically eliminated every enemy soldier and every force that dared stand in their way.
Not a single defender survived as they marched relentlessly toward the royal palace, where their greatest objective awaited them.
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