My eyes fluttered open, my mind still delirious from the drug as I felt myself being dragged.

  Before me, a courtroom - vast, circular, high-domed. Rows upon rows of seats rose in tiers like an amphitheater, forming a perfect oval around the center stage. On that stage, a single chain hung from a marble pole - where heretics and traitors met their judgment.

  The guards shackled me there, the cold iron biting into my wrists as they moved away to guard the entrances.

  All my Inquisitorial gear was gone now, stripped on the way here.

  To my left, a man - tall, gray-eyed, his hands steady - took a pistol from Arken's outstretched hand.

  "This," Arken said, his voice solemn while looking at me, "is Gerald. Should I fall, he alone will do what must be done. We truly hope it won't come to that, though."

  I looked at him. His eyes remained steadfast despite the implications.

  Arken took the podium at the front, flanked by nobles and surviving faction heads. Around thirty of them remained, all wearing expressions somewhere between dread and brittle arrogance.

  Arken's attention returned to me, nodding to Gerald who stood behind me.

  A vial was pressed to my lips. Bitter liquid burned down my throat. The same lavender scent as before. Only this time, instead of dulling me, it cleared my head. Too quickly. The fog peeled back, and the ache in my chest sharpened to clarity. My divinity seemed to calm, but I still felt like I had little control over it left.

  Arken watched me closely. "You feel it, don't you? Your divinity… splintering. We used enough suppressant to knock out any ordinary divine user for hours. But not you. We didn't account for a Veilwalker, so it's to be expected."

  I met his eyes through the strands of hair falling into my face, now stripped down to my usual clothes. I stretched my limbs as best I could, enjoying the sensation of mobility again.

  "Nobody mentioned how special that made me. Would've been nice to know."

  His smile twisted - admiration and loathing in one expression. "Special?" he repeated, incredulous. "There have been only six others in recorded imperial history. And only one of those was also a Veilwalker. Do you have any idea what you are, boy?"

  I said nothing, only watching him with listless eyes.

  The Regent definitely didn't make it sound that rare. He has some explaining to do, it seems.

  Arken sighed, rubbing his temples, suddenly looking very old. "We've pierced the hornet's nest, it seems."

  I glared, smiling slightly in condemnation. "You know they won't let you live now, right? You've seen my face. You're as good as dead."

  Arken only smiled, his lips thin and solemn.

  "We know."

  I could only reply with a confused expression.

  Am I not their hostage?

  The nobles murmured among themselves, worry and uncertainty whispering through their ranks. Arken raised a hand to silence them.

  "Enough. Our path is set. With this Inquisitor as hostage, our families' safety is assured. The Eastern Republic will grant them asylum with the information we've given them. They wouldn't dare waste leverage that valuable."

  That made me blink. "You're betting everything on the Republic honoring a deal with traitors. That's optimistic."

  Arken turned back to me. His tone softened, just barely. "I have to apologize, Damian. I once thought you a piece of plebeian trash. But it's clear now the Almighty favors you. Still, you're naive if you think we have any other choice, or that the Empire would stop with us."

  My eyes narrowed. "You don't mean-"

  He gave a humorless laugh. "I can't particularly blame them. I'd do the same if I were them. A family can breed vengeance and hatred. Why do you think us Nobles detest heretics so much? Because they killed our friends and families, and we killed theirs. An endless cycle that's been waged for more than a millennia."

  His voice hardened. "We don't regret our betrayal, Damian. Only that we chose the wrong side, the one that would work with such scum. We would all rather die than work with Heretics."

  I stared at him coldly. "How did you even know I'd be here?"

  He tilted his head toward the man with the pistol. "Gerald has ears where others have eyes. He warned me of your approach long before you set foot in this place."

  I followed Arken's glance, my stomach sinking. Gerald didn't look at me - his expression didn't change - only showing cold indifference. His finger brushed the trigger slightly, as if to punctuate his determination.

  "Wasn't supposed to be possible," I said hoarsely. "You were meant to be in custody until midnight."

  Arken frowned faintly, confused. "Custody? My dear boy, I haven't left this courthouse since that horrible night when I nearly died."

  My mind went blank before the realization hit me.

  I couldn't help but bite my lip in anger.

  I don't know what the fuck your plan is, Regent, but it better be worth keeping me in the dark like this.

  I knew the Regent wouldn't throw me to the gallows like this without reason. I just had to hope that reason didn't include me dying in the process.

  "Nevertheless," Arken continued smoothly, "we'll send our demands for the safe passage and protection of our families. Once confirmed, we'll die honorably - as men, not cowards."

  He turned toward the crowd of nobles, his hand rising in a solemn gesture. "They will not spare our families unless we can hold here, my friends! We may be traitors, but our families and lineage can still be saved. This is the only chance left. To destroy the rot-"

  Suddenly, the chamber door slammed open.

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  The Regent walked through, black cloak billowing, flanked by two Inquisitors in their usual black clothing. His eyes found me instantly - sharp, unreadable.

  And behind him, Mary.

  "Damian! Are you okay?!"

  The room erupted.

  Arken's faction shouted, guards raised rifles, the Inquisitors drew their blades. And in the middle of it all, Mary's expression froze as her gaze met mine - eyes wide, horrified.

  The Regent looked at me briefly, smiling knowingly as though our plan had worked. The plan he had conveniently forgotten to tell me about.

  My tired eyes couldn't handle any of it.

  Just what the hell have I gotten myself into?

  Whatever illusion of order had held the courthouse together shattered in that single heartbeat.

  The shouting didn't turn into gunfire - not at first.

  It stopped because a single voice cut through it.

  Calm, smooth, utterly unthreatened.

  "Everyone," the Regent said as he stepped forward, cloak settling around him like smoke, "stand down. I'd rather not shed any unnecessary blood if I don't have to."

  The command wasn't shouted. It didn't need to be. It settled on the room like pressure from the heavens.

  Even the nobles lowered their guns out of instinct.

  Arken raised his hand, steady but tense. "Everyone… hold. Don't fire unless I give the order."

  The Regent nodded politely to him. "Good. Now that we've all regained our wits… let us talk."

  Arken's jaw tightened. "I see you have some guests. Are you here as a representative of the Crown… or the Inquisition?"

  "Both," the Regent replied calmly. "Though both want different outcomes. I'm more leaning towards an end without needless bloodshed, but the Inquisition seems to disagree."

  Then his eyes slid to me - chained, roughed up, barely upright.

  "And the boy," he said, voice suddenly sharpened with cold steel, "is innocent. He is an unfortunate bystander in your decisions, nothing more."

  The nobles murmured uneasily.

  My pulse spiked.

  I saw Arken's eyes shift - calculating, conflicted.

  He could expose me with a single sentence.

  He was probably hoping the Regent didn't know. Holding onto that slim chance of survival.

  Not to mention Mary was here.

  Why the hell did the Regent bring her?

  My tired eyes met Mary's, and all I could see from her was extreme agitation, as though one wrong move could set her off.

  Arken's voice cut through the tension. "We only wish for our families to have safe passage to the Eastern Republic. Nothing more, nothing less. Once they are safely over the border, you may have our heads."

  The Regent smiled - charismatic, well-meaning.

  But I could tell his intention was anything but.

  "Well, that would be quite a problem, you see. After all, they hold classified information about our Imperial Army and its formations. Our numbers, equipment, locations of military installations. It almost sounds like they're preparing for a war, are they not?"

  Arken's eyes visibly shook. "How did you know-?"

  The Regent waved his hand. "It matters not. But you know as well as I do we can't let them leave."

  He smiled gracefully, holding his arms out.

  "So I propose this - you release that young man as a token of good faith, and the Empire will deal with this matter, not the Inquisition. It's the best I can offer, truly."

  Arken's gaze turned into a glare, realizing what the Regent was offering. "You think me stupid. You know I cannot accept this. That would spell our destruction."

  He then pointed to Mary, seemingly outraged.

  "And bringing the Princess here - to this? What is your game, Regent?"

  The Regent smiled faintly.

  "To teach her something."

  He turned his head to address Mary, ignoring Arken's angry gaze.

  "Look at him, Mary. Look at Damian."

  Mary's breath hitched. Her hands trembled, agitated.

  The Regent's voice softened. Too soft. Too tender.

  "The things you care about can be taken from you in an instant. And if you are weak, if you hesitate, the world will devour everything you love."

  Mary shook her head, horrified.

  "Uncle - why are you-"

  "Because I love you," he said, and the tenderness vanished like a snuffed candle. "And I will not allow you to live ignorant and fragile. You must grow strong. Strong enough to protect what matters to you. Strong enough to protect the light you carry."

  His gaze sharpened, a blade in the dark.

  "Do not abandon your humanity… but never let anyone steal any of it from you."

  He pointed toward Arken like a teacher presenting an exhibit.

  "Especially not from people like him. Rot will take away the things you care about, infecting all that remains human. He is rot. He is inhuman. And the only way to stop a rotting tree is to uproot it."

  Arken stiffened, insulted and intimidated in equal measure.

  Mary's aura flared - white, brilliant, trembling with fury as tears welled in her eyes. Her power illuminated the entire courtroom like dawn breaking through stained glass. It was reminiscent of the night she awakened in the mansion, where she seemed to choke the oxygen out of the air. But now it was controlled.

  The Regent whispered, proud and cruel all at once.

  "Yes. Good. Use that anger. Anger is human. And when harnessed… it becomes a tool."

  Mary's breath shook, her angry eyes welling with tears as she stared down Arken and the other nobles. "I… I don't know-"

  "You've done enough Mary. Have a good sleep," he murmured, a faint dust on his hand blowing into Mary's face without her noticing.

  Her aura snapped violently - overwhelming her - and she collapsed, unconscious, into his waiting arms.

  He cradled her gently, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead.

  "My sweet girl… you've grown."

  Then, just as gently, he passed her off to one of the accompanying Inquisitors.

  The Regent's entire posture shifted.

  He rolled his neck, cracked his knuckles…

  …and dropped the mask.

  "Thank the Emperor," he sighed, his eyes now uncaring, cold. "I don't have to pretend anymore."

  The Inquisitor not holding Mary handed the Regent a hilt, which unfurled in one smooth motion - black shadow-aura spilling from the blade like liquid night. The aura suffocated the room, and black dripped onto the floor, spreading in web patterns on the tiled floor.

  Arken's face drained of color.

  "N-no... You were an Inquisitor this whole time?"

  Arken's eyes turned determined.

  "Gerald! Prepare to kill Damian if the Regent makes any moves!"

  My heart seized.

  The gun behind me shifted-

  -downward.

  I heard it drop to the floor.

  The Regent smiled, amused and almost affectionate.

  "Thank you, Gerald. Your service to the Empire is appreciated. As promised, your family will be spared."

  Arken's world seemed to collapse in his eyes.

  "You…" he whispered. "You traitor. You- how-"

  The Regent raised a brow. "Arken. My dear boy. How little do you think of the Inquisition? The idea that one of your people could track our movements? Ludicrous."

  Arken staggered. Betrayal carved into every line of his face.

  The Regent gave a short, delighted laugh.

  "I've enjoyed this entirely too much."

  He stepped forward, sword dripping shadow.

  "Oh - and regarding my earlier question?" he added lightly. "The Inquisition vs the Crown… no longer relevant. Though, I'd be lying if I said you ever had any choice."

  Arken blinked. "What?"

  "You kidnapped an Inquisitor."

  A shrug.

  "This is now solely Inquisition jurisdiction. Which means I get to do things… my way."

  Arken's eyes widened in horror.

  "The best way to stop rot in a tree," the Regent said calmly, "is to cut it down and uproot it."

  Arken wasted no time, eyes flashing with determination.

  "Fire!"

  Rifles ignited - but flame erupted across the chamber, a wall of red heat conjured by the second Inquisitor.

  Bullets melted mid-air.

  The Regent raised one hand.

  "Begin."