CHAPTER 154: A DECISION

Jae’s pulse quickened, the silence of the library suddenly pressing down on him as the weight of what he had read settled over his chest. His heart skipped, not from surprise alone but from the stark clarity that came with connecting the fragments in front of him.

This was no coincidence. The glowing runes in the cave, the attacks on the academy, the ambushes that had dogged his steps, none of it was random violence or scattered misfortune. It was all woven together, threads in a much larger design.

The Shadow Monarch’s cult. The realization sat in his stomach like a stone. The words on the page seemed to pulse, every line suddenly charged with more meaning than the dry parchment should have been able to hold.

For weeks now, he had suspected something more lay beneath the surface of their troubles, but the confirmation left him both vindicated and unsettled. He read on, forcing his eyes to focus despite the slight trembling in his hands.

The Chronicles described the cult as a fragmented order, broken in the aftermath of their master’s banishment, yet united by their unyielding devotion to his return.

Though scattered, they remained patient, willing to act in pieces if it meant the whole could one day be restored.

The book emphasized how secrecy was their greatest weapon, attacks that seemed chaotic or purposeless often hid calculated intent, distracting kingdoms and orders until it was too late.

Jae exhaled slowly, his mind spinning. The academy had been attacked twice. He had been ambushed directly. Whether those were separate strikes or part of one long campaign was unclear, but he no longer believed in coincidence.

They were moving. They had targets. And for reasons he could not yet grasp, he was tangled in the heart of it.

He pressed his palm against the page, steadying it as he leaned closer.

Do they want me specifically? Or is it the academy they’re after? The question gnawed at him. Both possibilities left an uncomfortable weight in his chest. If they sought him, then his every step put those around him in danger. If they wanted the academy, then he and his classmates were standing on the edge of a trap already set

Neither thought gave comfort.

Turning the page, Jae found an illustration of what appeared to be an underground shrine. Unlike the sigil sketches from earlier, this drawing was broader, capturing an entire chamber with pillars carved into claw-like shapes, each one inscribed with runes of binding and shadow. At the center stood an altar, flat and wide, its surface marked with deep grooves designed to channel blood.

The caption beneath the inked image made his breath catch.

Hidden beneath the palace of the First King lies a cavernous shrine once consecrated to the Shadow Monarch. Though sealed in later centuries, it remains a point of power, a conduit between realms. Cultists once gathered here to channel their master’s will and enact rituals of summoning.

Jae sat back sharply, the wooden chair creaking beneath his weight. His eyes darted around the empty library as though expecting a cloaked figure to emerge from the shadows. Beneath the palace. Here. Not some distant ruin or abandoned land far away, but under the very place he now sat.

He imagined it too vividly, the hidden stairs, the cold cavern walls, the glow of runes as chants filled the darkness. The thought of cultists gathering beneath the feet of the kingdom’s rulers while everyone above remained blissfully unaware sent a chill down his spine.

If the cult was active in the kingdom, if they had reoccupied the shrine, then the danger was not coming. It was already here

His instinct was immediate, almost primal. I should go now.

He rose abruptly from the table, the chair legs scraping against the polished floor. For a moment he hesitated, torn between reason and instinct. Then instinct won. He had to see it. He had to know.

The book gave a vague description of where the shrine door might be hidden, within the oldest sections of the palace, where the foundations were untouched by renovations of later kings.

Jae tucked the volume under his arm, his steps quick but cautious as he left the library. The corridors were mostly empty at this hour, the silence broken only by the occasional flicker of a torch.

He moved carefully, counting turns, following the subtle directions etched into his memory. The deeper he went, the less polished the halls became.

Marble gave way to rougher stone, torches fewer and farther apart, shadows thicker. The air itself felt cooler here, carrying the faint tang of earth and age.

And then he saw it.

The door was not grand or ornate, not marked with banners or sigils. It was plain, unremarkable at first glance, a slab of dark wood fitted seamlessly into the stone wall.

But when Jae drew closer, he felt it, the faint hum, the almost imperceptible vibration that whispered of power. And there, etched so faintly they might be missed by a careless glance, were runes like the ones he had seen glowing in the cave.

His hand hovered above the handle, every muscle in his body tense.

I could open it now. I could see what lies below. I could stop waiting, stop wondering.

His pulse hammered as he imagined what might wait for him: the shrine untouched, silent, nothing more than dust and relics, or worse, the cult itself, cloaked figures gathered in the dark, chanting as the altar bled with sacrifice. If he stepped inside, he might find answers. He might also find death.

His thoughts raced, drawing up strategies almost faster than he could keep track of them. He could cast light, cloak himself in silence, scout only the first passage.

He could retreat quickly if needed. But the other side of him, the part tempered by experience, forced him to acknowledge what he already knew.

He was not ready.

He had drained himself with the day’s summons, the audience with Shane, the hours of reading. His reserves were thin. His body demanded rest.