Therizo 30, Imperial Year 1644
The Royal Palace, Mercia – The King's Chambers
King Alaric did not sleep.
He sat in the dark, a goblet of wine beside him, untouched. The fire had died hours ago. The room was cold, but he did not call for a servant. He did not want witnesses.
He kept seeing the duke's head.
Not Orin Vex – another duke, months ago. The Raven had killed him in this very palace, in the throne room, in front of the entire court. One shot. The duke's head had simply… vanished. Blood spray on the tapestries. The body standing for a heartbeat, then falling.
Alaric had watched. He had done nothing.
The Raven had called himself Alucard then. Now there was Zero. The Black Knights. Different masks, different names, but the same thunder weapons. The same cold efficiency.
They are the same, Alaric thought. Or they are working together.
He had no proof. But fear did not require proof.
A knock at the door.
"Enter."
His spymaster stepped inside, bowing. "Your Majesty, the prince's faction has grown. Three more generals have pledged to him."
Alaric did not react. "And the Black Knights?"
"No new sightings. But the pamphlets continue to appear. The people are… restless."
"Restless." Alaric laughed – a dry, bitter sound. "They cheer for vigilantes. They cheer for my son. They cheer for anyone who promises to hurt me."
"Your Majesty, perhaps if you addressed the accusations…"
"The accusations are true." Alaric stood, walking to the window. The city was dark, but he could see torches in the distance – his son's camp. "I pardoned corrupt lords. I took their gold. I looked away while they raped and murdered. I am guilty."
The spymaster was silent.
"The Raven knew," Alaric said. "He killed that duke in front of me because he wanted me to know that I was not safe. That no one was safe." He pressed his palm against the cold glass. "And now Zero is finishing what the Raven started."
"What would you have me do, Your Majesty?"
Alaric turned. His eyes were hollow.
"Find them. Find the Raven. Find Zero. Find their weapons. I don't care how many gold marks it costs. I don't care how many prisoners we have to break. I want their heads."
"And the prince?"
Alaric was silent for a long moment.
"He is my son. I will not kill him." He walked back to his chair. "But I will not abdicate. Let him try to take the throne. Let him see how heavy the crown truly is."
The spymaster bowed and left.
Alaric sat alone, staring at the dying embers.
The Raven, he thought. Zero. Black Knights.
They are all the same. They are all coming for me.
He picked up the goblet and drank.
Pyra 1, Imperial Year 1644
The Royal Palace – The Throne Room
Alaric held court, though his mind was elsewhere. Nobles petitioned. Guards stood at attention. The throne room had been cleaned – the bloodstains from the duke's death were long gone. But Alaric still saw them.
His son was not present.
"Your Majesty," a herald announced, "the delegation from Valdria."
Alaric waved them forward. He did not care about Valdria. He cared about the shadows.
The delegation's leader, a thin man with a grey beard, bowed. "King Theodric sends his regards. He also sends a warning."
"A warning?"
"The Black Knights have grown bold. They executed a merchant of the Free Cities. They destroyed a demon cult. They are recruiting." The man paused. "They are also, according to our intelligence, interested in Mercia."
Alaric's hands tightened on the arms of his throne. "Interested how?"
"They believe your kingdom is the most corrupt. They believe you are the most vulnerable." The man bowed again. "My king suggests that you take action. Before they take action against you."
The delegation withdrew.
Alaric sat in silence. The court murmured.
They are coming for me, he thought. The Raven. Zero. The Black Knights.
And my son is helping them.
He stood.
"Court is dismissed."
The nobles filed out. Alaric remained on the throne, alone.
Pyra 2, Imperial Year 1644
The Royal Palace – The King's Study
Alaric wrote a letter. Not to his son – to Zero.
He did not know where to send it. But he wrote it anyway.
To the one who calls himself Zero,
I have seen what your kind can do. I have watched a man die in this very palace, killed by a weapon that should not exist. I have heard your speeches. I have read your pamphlets.
You think you are justice. You think you are saving the world.
You are wrong. You are chaos. You are death. And you will destroy everything you touch.
But I am not a fool. I know that I cannot stop you with swords and spears. So I offer you a deal.
Leave Mercia. Hunt your monsters elsewhere. In return, I will not hunt you. I will not send my armies after your Black Knights. I will look the other way.
If you refuse, I will burn this kingdom to the ground before I let you take it from me.
— King Alaric of Mercia
He read the letter twice. Then he burned it.
He could not send it. It would be seen as weakness.
But he had written it. And that was enough.
Pyra 3, Imperial Year 1644
The Royal Palace – The King's Chambers
Alaric did not sleep again.
He sat by the window, watching the torches of his son's camp. The rebellion was growing. The Black Knights were out there, somewhere, planning their next strike.
He was trapped.
The Raven, he thought. Zero. My son.
They are all the same. They all want me dead.
He reached for the goblet. It was empty.
He did not call for more.
He simply sat in the dark, waiting for dawn.
End of Chapter Fifty‑Two