CHAPTER 13: CHAPTER13-MAKING AN EXAMPLE OF YOU

In the end, William and Heimerdinger decided to wait one more night.

Though their hearts were full of unease, they both felt strongly that the Emperor before them—since his awakening—was no longer the same man he had once been. Something within Aurek had changed, something subtle yet unmistakable. And until they understood what it was, they chose caution over confrontation.

After the two men departed, silence returned to the chamber. Then, without warning, twenty faintly translucent figures emerged before Aurek, as though conjured from the very air.

They were his Elemental Assassins, their forms shifting with flickers of light, each one carrying an aura of cold lethality.

"Master," they intoned in unison, voices echoing like whispers from another realm. "We are at your command."

Aurek’s gaze turned hard, a flash of killing intent glimmering in his eyes. His words were calm, yet carried the chill of death.

"Exterminate Nock’s entire household. Leave Nock alive. I want the world to see clearly what awaits those who defy me."

The assassins bowed their heads wordlessly, their figures flickering before they vanished into nothingness.

When they were gone, Aurek lifted his head toward the distant blue sky. His thoughts were heavy.

The Crossbridge Empire had already rotted to its very core. Every fiber of the realm was infected by decay. To save such a diseased body, drastic remedies were required.

An empire in chaos must be ruled with iron and blood, he thought grimly. Only by wielding merciless measures could he hope to seize even the faintest chance at survival for the empire.

The Royalist Party themselves no longer believed that the fate of the Crossbridge Empire could be changed. But Aurek refused to surrender to despair. He had resolved that he would try—he would gamble everything on his own hands.

Whether success or failure awaited him at the end of the road, he would not regret the attempt. So long as he fought, his conscience would remain clear.

As for the Grand Marshal, and as for the Holy Theocracy—they would wait. And when the time came, he would confront them all.

...

In the city of Eryndor, the atmosphere was heavy with dread. The sudden annihilation of the Blackfish Gang had shrouded the entire capital in the shadow of the so-called "ghost."

Whispers flew across the taverns, marketplaces, and noble courts alike. Some speculated that the mysterious specter was none other than a secret force unleashed by the Red-Robed Archbishop Austin himself. Who else, after all, possessed the strength to wipe out an entire gang in a single night with such gruesome precision?

The fact that the Ordon Theocracy had offered neither denial nor clarification only fueled suspicion further. Their silence was more unsettling than any denial could have been. It made the people wonder: Who truly stands behind this ghost?

"Investigate this phantom immediately," Nock barked after returning to his estate. "Uncover its background, its origin, its masters. I want to know exactly which power dares lurk behind the mask of a ghost."

He gave his order with his usual arrogance, expecting swift obedience. But then, from a nearby corner, a quiet voice spoke.

"My lord Nock," said Wood. The once-proud officer now sat in a wheelchair, his body broken, his voice heavy with bitterness. "There is something I must tell you."

Nock paused, turning his head. "What is it?"

Wood’s eyes darkened. "It concerns what happened this morning, at the west gate of Valoria Palace..."

He began to recount everything that had transpired. His words came slow and deliberate, filled with resentment. He spoke of the moment he had drawn his blade against the Emperor, of the sudden and inexplicable force that had rendered all four of his limbs useless.

What chilled him most was that no one else present had been capable of such an act. It had been as though someone invisible had materialized behind him, struck him down, and then vanished without a trace.

Nock listened in silence, his brows furrowing. Wood’s description awakened his own memories of the morning, of that uncanny sensation that had swept over the gate—an eerie shiver, a hair-raising chill that still lingered in his bones.

"Are you certain," Nock asked carefully, "that it was not an ambush? Perhaps someone struck from behind?"

Wood shook his head vehemently. "Impossible! I myself am of Elite Rank. My senses are sharp, and we were in plain view of many witnesses. If anyone had attempted a sneak attack, others would surely have seen it. Yet when I questioned my most trusted guards, they all swore they had seen nothing. They felt only the faintest breeze, passing like a whisper."

His voice grew harsh. "If this was indeed a sneak attack, the one responsible would have to be of at least Expert Rank!"

He met Nock’s eyes directly. "My lord... is it not possible that the one who struck me down was the ghost?"

"Ghosts?" Nock scoffed. His lips twisted into a mocking smile. "Do you truly expect me to believe in such fairy tales?"

His voice dripped with disdain. "You are frightening yourself with shadows. Think clearly. If the Emperor truly possessed such power, why would he need to rely on those relics William and Heimerdinger? Why would he cling to them at all?"

He leaned forward, his tone darkening. "Do not trouble yourself with fantasies. Once I eliminate William and Heimerdinger, the Emperor will be utterly powerless. That is the only truth you need concern yourself with."

Wood clenched his fists in his lap, bitterness thick in his heart.

Nock turned then, eyeing him coldly. "Your condition makes you unfit to continue in the Royal Guard. You would only be a liability there. I will arrange for you to transfer to the Ministry of War, to serve in logistics. It is a lesser role, but time is long. Opportunities always arise. You may yet find a future."

He spoke casually, as though dismissing a broken tool.

The Crossbridge Empire was collapsing. Everyone could see it. Yet from the ruins of a crumbling empire, a new order was bound to rise.

Whether it was Troy, Jacoff, or others, many were waiting for that day. And all of them believed it would come soon. For even the simplest of fools could see that the Crossbridge Empire was on its last legs.

No one could halt the fall. Not even the imperial throne.

Wood’s lips curled into a cold smile. His hatred for Aurek had already consumed him entirely.

"Very well," he muttered, nodding heavily. In his heart, a vow took shape: Because of that Emperor, I am ruined. Because of him, I am crippled. Let him wait. On the day this empire collapses, I will watch with my own eyes as the royal family is cut to pieces, slain without mercy.

Nock offered no further words. In truth, Wood was worthless to him now. If not for the fact that Wood still had loyal subordinates within the Royal Guard, Nock would not have bothered to save him at all. Even so, the man’s value had diminished almost completely. He was not worth any more of Nock’s time.

"Go rest," Nock said curtly. "I have more pressing matters."

Leaving Wood to stew in his bitterness, Nock rose and made his way deeper into his castle.

He passed through a series of long, shadowed corridors until he reached the most hidden chamber of the keep. This was no ordinary room—it was the sanctum reserved for his most important guests.

Two young men stood outside the door, clad in ornate robes of fine weave. Their posture was proud, their expressions haughty, as though they stood above all others.

Nock stopped before them, bowing slightly with uncharacteristic respect. "Is Mentor Butler Brown still in meditation?" he asked.

Though he held the title of Minister of War, one of the highest offices of the empire, his voice was deferential. Even he did not dare offend the two youths before him.

For they were emissaries of the Unicorn Trading Guild.

The Unicorn Guild dwarfed the Crossbridge Empire in influence and power. It maintained close ties with many theocratic and secular organizations alike, forming networks of wealth and alliances beyond imagination.

More than that, the Guild itself commanded great strength. Among its ranks were numerous Awakeners, individuals who wielded formidable abilities. Rumor even held that the Guildmaster himself had reached the exalted Master Rank.

Faced with Nock’s respect, the two young men showed only scorn. Their eyes gleamed with arrogance, their tone lofty, as though they addressed a servant.

"Nock," one of them replied coldly. "Our mentor remains in meditation. When his meditation is complete, he will break through to Expert Rank."

Nock’s eyes widened, delight sparking across his face. Each advance in Awakener rank represented a transformation of power. For Butler Brown to ascend to Expert Rank meant a massive leap in influence.

This was not just anyone—this was Butler Brown of the Unicorn Guild, the very man who stood as Nock’s backer.

Though Nock had aligned himself with Troy, in his heart he had no desire to live forever in another man’s shadow. Every man harbored ambition, and Nock was no exception.

And with Butler Brown at his side, perhaps his ambitions could soar even higher.