The Lord Master’s Palace had a big, circular square in front of it, adorned with multiple statues of the man himself caught in triumphant poses like a true conqueror. One look, and you would think he was some twisted version of Caesar who was not only feared by the people but also respected in a begrudging and undeniable way.

  This fickle man who got caught by the arms and left kneeling on top of the long stairs, though? He might have to take a few pointers from the statues by how small and weak he looked in those torn, fancy robes. Two men held him like a child, one of them pressing with one finger into his neck to keep his head down. Mother and Belfray were standing right behind him.

  “Hah…” Radek sighed as we made our way up the stairs, surrounded by hundreds of men clad in Palark’s colors. I sneaked a glance at them to see if they were actually the kingdom’s soldiers and was met by a chorus of colors that lacked anything remotely close to gold or silver.

  There were no Silver or Golden Knights here.

  The weakest of these men and women were at the Diamond Stage.

  My back tensed. I could feel the rhythm of my heart, thumping loudly in my chest. It was likely because I was being stared at by a thousand great men and women, their gazes opening imaginary holes across my body. I stood strong, however. Radek kept me on my feet as we reached the top of the stairs.

  I found my place beside Mother, who nodded gently when I glanced up at her, while Belfray placed a soothing hand on my shoulder. Radek, instead, drew a few steps away and decided to stand beside the fallen Lord Master, gesturing soon after with a hand to no one in particular.

  A man came running up the stairs shortly after, delivering Radek a new set of robes that looked like an official’s clothing. That, and a great tome of sorts with a leather back. Radek donned the clothes with impossible speed, then opened the tome with the ease of a librarian and… simply waited.

  “There has to be an audience,” Belfray broke the tense silence. “This is a grand ceremony.”

  His fingers held more strength as he finished his words, clasping slowly around my shoulders as though afraid I could run away at any moment. Yet, there was nowhere for me to run to. I belonged here, even as I kept sweating like an overworked horse.

  This was fine, right?

  This was how it was supposed to happen, no?

  We were in a coup. I remembered reading something about the French Revolution back in the day. It wasn’t out of curiosity, but there was this game that had just come out and the whole setting was based on post-revolution France. To actually make good choices and get the best ending, you had to be aware of certain things.

  So, I did my research.

  It was bloody times, really.

  Of course, there were hardly any similarities between that game and this particular moment. For one, I wasn’t playing some character here. I was here, quite literally. Secondly, I was the one who’d allegedly planned this whole coup. Or took part in it, sort of. I was to become the new ruler who replaced the old, hateful guy who tortured his people for years.

  In other words, I was the good guy. I just hoped there wouldn’t be dozens of executions in the name of change.

  Looking at the square, though, I couldn’t help but think that we looked like a bad group of sorts. We had what, a thousand Diamond Knights here before the Grand Palace? Celestials at the helm, looking down upon the great city of Sangdon with a certain indifference? Did we really paint the picture of a savior’s brigade marching here for the sake of the poor folk?

  No, I’m afraid not.

  This was just a part of a small business.

  And I was the only one who, apparently, felt out of place here.

  My Mother’s men seemed like this was their thousandth time doing it. Hell, many of them likely thought it wasn’t worth bringing everybody here at all. Who was Palark, anyway? Just a small kingdom with a few Diamond people, its army crowded by no-name Golden and Silver guys. There weren’t any true enemies here. Just small fries to be about.

  There came a loud noise from beyond the streets, a thumping sound much like a war drum. It echoed across the city, followed by another bang that pulled me out of my stupor.

  Squinting my eyes, I could barely make out movement far in the distance. It looked like a sea of moving heads, shuffling feet, swinging arms. Flags flapped loudly over the group, held by strong hands clasped tightly around the poles. There was no end to it. The city was flushed with people in no time as we stood there, waiting.

  Soon, hundreds and thousands of people spilled into the giant square, headed by none other than Marcus, who wore his official robes as the new Head Secretary of the Kingdom. Beside him was Payem, looking mildly bored, but still making sure to keep up with the group.

  At the middle of this grand crowd were the prisoners.

  My breath hitched. I saw, at that exact moment, dozens of people shackled with ropes and being dragged by men of wanton fury. Some fell painfully to the ground, pulled at by hands that appeared anything but gentle. Others left bloody trails across the paved roads as the furious mob dragged them across the stretch, screaming all the while, pleading to ears that had long been made deaf to reason.

  They weren’t wearing fancy clothes in the din. Except for a few, I couldn’t see any clean faces, either. They carried the marks of their labor with hatred and power this time, these villagers and slaves. They were so blind in their rage that they didn’t stop to consider the fact that thousands of Diamond Knights had spawned out of nowhere and turned this coup into a triumphant reality.

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  It was true, then, I guessed. A drowning man would clutch at a straw.

  “The Families of Palark are no more!” Radek’s voice boomed over the slowly growing din, hushing the rebellious villagers and pulling their attention with ease. “The Palark Royal Family is no longer the rulers of this poorly managed kingdom, its members justifiably caught and brought here to face their charges! The good people of these lands, long plagued by tyrannical rulers and their endless greed, have finally decided to make their stand, and thus won, with blood and tears, their long-deserved freedom!”

  The expected thunderous applause didn’t come. Instead, the crowd faced the Heart Mage with obvious confusion, eyes squinting up at him, full of questions. They seemed to be searching, in their silence, for an answer as to who this man was who had taken the stairs and found it in himself to address thousands.

  Who, indeed?

  But then, he wasn’t the only stranger here.

  There were voices soon. They started as questioning murmurs that slowly grew into a series of demands. Some jabbed furious fingers at the Heart Mage, while others clutched their spears and swords, glaring straight at the soldiers as though they expected some sort of assault.

  “Give them enough crumbs to work with. That’s the key,” Belfray said softly. “Never tell them the whole picture. Either way, there’ll be questions. Confusion. Doubts. There’s no escaping them.”

  “It doesn’t matter if you give them what they want,” Mother said while I regarded the growing crowd with nervousness. “These people don’t want justice. They want to take their lives back.”

  “Effective immediately, His Royal Highness Leo Halark shall ascend the throne and be recognized as the one true King of the Palark Kingdom,” Radek announced. Without allowing the crowd a moment to respond, he continued.

  “To secure his reign, His Majesty hereby issues his first decrees: slavery is abolished throughout the kingdom, and all privately held lands formerly belonging to the so-called Great Families of Palark are hereby seized by the Crown. These lands shall, in due time, be redistributed by royal authority to the honest people of this realm.”

  That gave the crowd pause, but the Heart Mage wasn’t done yet.

  “All former members of the Royal Family shall be tried before the people, under the very laws that once governed these lands in their purest form. I, as His Royal Highness’s appointed Chair of Judgement , shall here and now proclaim the crimes they willingly committed during their rule, for all to hear.”

  What followed was a long string of endless words, all depicting the crimes committed by the Royal Family while Mother’s men dragged Lord Master’s famous heirs from within the palace. The number was easily over ten, with their ages varying from sixteen to fifty, all of them lacking a single sign of shame or regret.

  In fact, their eyes kept searching the crowd as if they still expected a savior to come fetch them, even as the ropes wrapped around their heads were tightened by each crime announced by our very own Heart Mage.

  You would think rapists and killers would have a different look about them, but they seemed strangely human in a way. I saw in the midst of them the so-called Crown Prince, who hosted weekly parties and had his men bring him pure young women from across the kingdom. Beside him sat his sister, a wicked middle-aged woman who dabbled in the darkest forms of alchemy and used young blood to keep herself at the ripe age of twenty.

  I was mainly kept away from these things, shielded from the outside world and instead forced to focus on my training. That didn’t mean I didn’t hear about them, though. They made my stomach churn even though I had nothing to do with these people. The poor folk of Palark, on the other hand, lived under their rule for the longest time.

  In the end, Radek closed the tome and waited.

  The noise that followed formed a constant pressure. Voices rose and fell in uneven waves. People shifted. Hands tightened on rope and spear shafts. A few stepped forward, then stopped, eyes flicking toward the ring of Diamond Knights around the square. No one crossed the line.

  Most of the prisoners stared ahead without moving. Others shook openly. One of the younger heirs kept swallowing, his gaze skittering across the square, perhaps slowly registering the fact that he was no longer untouchable.

  Arguments began among the villagers, low and scattered. I heard one man propose a closed-door hanging, only to be immediately shut down by a small group that demanded blood. Yet I could see that a big part of the crowd simply wanted this to end. I could relate to them in a weird way. I wanted this thing to end, too, just for different reasons.

  “It’s about time,” Mother said firmly. “Take your sword.”

  My hand went to Beatrice in a millisecond, around her handle, where it lingered with shaky nervousness. I was soon ushered by Belfray and Mother toward the line of the Royal Family, taking my place right behind them. The Diamond Knights forced the prisoners to their knees, kicking their heads down to the ground.

  “I’ll show you how it’s done,” Mother said just then. “Just follow my example.”

  I blinked up at her face, then across the square, my fingers shaking like knuckles about to pop off. Back in my first life, the only time I stood before a large crowd was when I graduated from high school, and even then, there were only a few hundred people in that schoolyard.

  Being stared at by thousands, though?

  That was a death sentence for an asocial guy like me.

  I could barely keep myself together, let alone think about what I was about to do.

  “That’s the Golden Eagle…”

  “So the rumors were true. He’s truly the King’s bastard son.”

  “Justice himself…”

  Voices drifted from the crowd, making me visibly cringe. I sneaked a glance at Radek and saw him stifling a chuckle.

  “He looks too young.”

  “Who are those soldiers? I’ve never seen them.”

  “They look strong…”

  “Why would they listen to a child King?”

  There was also the side that rightfully doubted my whole ascension. I gave them a secret nod in my heart, but remained silent. Those were clever people. Good thing for us, though, they weren’t the majority.

  Then… Mother stepped forward.

  She chose the nearest heir without ceremony. He was already kneeling, head forced down by a boot at the nape of his neck, his hands bound so tightly that his fingers had gone pale. She adjusted her grip on the sword once, tested the angle with a brief glance, and swung.

  The strike was clean. The body collapsed forward immediately, momentum carrying it down the steps while the head struck stone a heartbeat later and rolled to the side. Blood spread across the square, dark against the pale stone, seeping into the grooves worn smooth by years of passage.

  No sound came. A few people in the front recoiled, more out of reflex than outrage. Further back, the crowd leaned in, craning for a better view. Only a few turned their heads away, but most kept looking.

  Mother wiped the blade against the corpse’s robes and turned toward me.

  “Your turn,” she said, gesturing with her chin toward the line of prisoners.

  I stepped forward because there was nowhere else to step. Belfray did not touch me this time. Radek remained where he was, watching without expression.

  The heir in front of me was younger than the one Mother had killed. Close enough to my age that the comparison pressed itself into my thoughts whether I wanted it to or not. His breathing came fast and shallow. A thin line of saliva trailed from his mouth to the stone beneath him. He did not look up.

  I adjusted my stance the way I had been taught, feet set properly, weight balanced. My hands settled on Beatrice’s hilt with more familiarity than comfort. The sword felt heavier than it ever had during training, its weight pulling at my arms instead of resting naturally against them.

  Around us, the square waited. I could feel their expectation in the same way people wait for a sentence to finish once it has already begun.

  I raised the blade.

  I was about to become a killer.

  ……..

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