Chapter 8:

Vallu was still smoldering, the faint

scent of blood and fire lingering in the

air as John's horse thundered through

the streets. The once grand city, now a

ruin of what it used to be, lay in silence.

The marketplace, once alive with the

cries of vendors and the rush of city folk,

had been emptied. The familiar hum of

everyday life had been replaced with an

eerie stillness. Those who had once

called this place home were either dead

or scattered to the winds. What remained

were memories of a power that had

crumbled beneath the weight of John's

ambition.

In the distance, the remnants of the city

lord's palace could be seen, a

once-proud structure now reduced to a

smoking shell. The city lord had been but

a fleeting obstacle-a puppet too weak to

retain control. His reign had ended in a

blood-soaked display of cruelty. His

family, who had once resided in the high

towers of the palace, were now dead,

their bodies strewn across the courtyard

like discarded dolls.

The mercenaries of the Black Sun,

John's loyal soldiers, had executed the

massacre with chilling precision. The

city lord's soldiers had fought valiantly at

first, but their resistance had been little

more than a brief flicker in the face of

the overwhelming power that John

wielded. His forces had stormed the

palace, cutting down anyone who dared

to stand against him. It had been swift,

brutal, and final.

The bodies of the city lord and his family

had been paraded through the streets in

the wake of the massacre. Their lifeless

forms had been displayed like trophies, a

grim reminder to all who saw them of the

price of defying John. The heads of the

city lord and his family had been severed

and placed on pikes, their cold eyes

staring down at the people of Vallu as if

judging them for their weakness. John

had commanded this display, ordering

his men to make it public-to ensure that

no one could forget the price of crossing

him.

The procession had been slow,

deliberate, the heads bobbing with each

step of the mercenaries who carried

them. The bodies of the lord and his

family had been tied to horses, dragged

through the cobbled streets for all to

see. The streets, once full of life, now

carried only the sound of footsteps and

the sickening drag of blood-soaked

bodies. The people had watched in

silence, some too terrified to speak,

others too broken to move. There had

been no cries of protest, no defiance-

only the dead silence of a city under the

thrall of fear.

John had stood in the midst of the

chaos, watching with a cold, calculating

gaze as his men carried out the grisly

task. He had shown no sign of emotion,

his face impassive as the heads of the

city lord and his family were displayed

for all to see. There had been no sorrow,

no regret-just the satisfaction of a man

who had achieved his goal through sheer

force and brutality. The city had been

brought to its knees, and John had been

the one to grind it into the dirt.

The screams of the city lord's wife and

children as they had been dragged from

their chambers had echoed through the

palace, but John had heard nothing.

Their pleas for mercy had fallen on deaf

ears. His men had done their work with

efficiency, their blades sharp and swift.

The city lord's youngest son had begged

John for his life, but his cries had been

silenced before they had even finished

their sentence. A single swing of a

mercenary's blade had severed the

child's head from his body, his life

snuffed out without a second thought.

John's mind had been focused entirely

on the goal-he was building an empire,

a legacy that would not be tarnished by

weakness. His enemies had to be

eliminated, and those who defied him

had to be made examples of. The

massacre had been necessary, the

bloodshed a means to an end. This was

the price of power.

As the procession drew to a close and

the heads were mounted on the pikes,

John had turned away from the

spectacle. He did not linger. There was

no joy in the sight, no satisfaction to be

gained from the cruelty. It was simply a

step in the journey, another obstacle

removed.

Behind him, the Black Sun mercenaries

continued their grim work. The city lord's

soldiers who had survived the massacre

were rounded up and executed, their

bodies tossed into the streets like

refuse. There was no mercy in John's

eyes, no hesitation in his orders. The

Black Sun did not know mercy. They

were soldiers, loyal only to him, and they

followed his commands without

question.

The mercenaries, ever loyal, continued

their task with grim efficiency, securing

the city and preparing it for John's rule.

They were a well-oiled machine, trained

for violence, and they had delivered what

John had demanded. But for all the

bloodshed, for all the carnage, the city

remained his. The people of Vallu would

come to know him as their new master,

and they would fear him as they had

feared no one before.

John did not look back as he rode

toward his estate. There was nothing left

to see. The city lord's reign had ended,

and the path to his own throne was now

clear. His eyes were fixed on the future-

the seat of power that awaited him. Vallu

was only the first step. There would be

more cities, more blood, more broken

families in his wake.

The mercenaries followed behind, their

movements silent, like shadows in the

night. Their loyalty to John was absolute,

and they would follow him wherever he

led. They would aid him in his quest for

domination, and in return, they would be

given the spoils of war. Power, wealth,

and a place in the new world John was

forging. It was all within their grasp, as

long as they remained loyal.

As the gates of the estate loomed in the

distance, John dismounted, his boots

landing heavily on the cobbled ground.

His expression remained cold,

unreadable. The destruction of the city

lord's family, the parade of heads, the

bloodshed-it was all just part of the

plan. And now, as he returned to his

estate, the final piece of the puzzle was

falling into place.

He turned to his nearest guard. "Bring

her to me."

The guard nodded and quickly

disappeared down the hallway. John

didn't need to explain further. He had

already made his intentions clear. She

would serve him at the palace, just as

she had always done. And once she was

by his side, there would be no more

hesitation. No more games.