Chapter 10:The Arrival at the City Lord’s Palace

The journey had been long, and the dust of the road clung to John's cloak as he rode ahead, his horse's hooves pounding against the stone of the worn path. His mercenaries, ever loyal and disciplined, flanked him on either side, their faces stoic, eyes sharp, ready to strike should the need arise. The sun was low in the sky, casting long shadows on the horizon as they made their way toward the city lord's palace. The air was thick with anticipation, but there was no joy in it for John—just the cold satisfaction of a conquest nearing its end.

Behind him, the carriage rumbled on. Inside, she sat still, her hands resting carefully over her swelling belly. She had not spoken since their departure. There was no need for her to. John had made it clear what role she would play in his new life, and that was all that mattered. As his pet, she would serve him, bearing his heirs, silently obedient.

But as the palace came into view, perched on the edge of the city like a giant waiting to be awakened, John couldn't help but feel the weight of his actions. This palace was no longer just a seat of power—it was a symbol of everything he had sacrificed to get here. The city lord's reign had been brutal, and his family had been just as ruthless. But John had shown no mercy, even to the children. His was a blood-soaked rise to the throne, and as much as it was necessary, it still haunted him in the darkest corners of his mind. The massacre had been swift, but it had sent a message.

"Today, this city bows to me," John muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowed, gaze fixed on the looming palace.

As they neared the city lord's gates, John's mercenaries closed ranks, surrounding the area as the carriage slowed to a halt. There was no need for the city's guards—they were long dead, their heads displayed as trophies in the streets. His men were all that was left to secure the palace now. John dismounted from his horse with practiced ease, his boots landing silently on the stone ground as he gave the order to move inside. The gates were wide open, and there was no resistance. The palace was his.

The towering structure loomed over them, the grand entrance waiting to be claimed. John, flanked by his men, walked toward the stone steps that led into the grand hall. The air was thick with dust, and the remnants of the old lord's family still lingered in the very fabric of the place—shadows of a life once lived. The city lord had thought he could hold onto his power forever, but he had underestimated John. He had underestimated the cruelty John was willing to wield to take what he wanted.

The high, arching doors creaked as they opened to reveal the interior of the palace. The once-pristine floors were now scarred, marred by the passage of time and neglect. Tattered tapestries hung from the walls, their colors faded and frayed. The grand portraits of the former rulers were barely visible beneath the grime that had accumulated over the years. But John didn't care. He had no interest in the past. This place would be remade in his image, and the memory of the old regime would be erased.

"Bring her inside," John commanded, his voice sharp and commanding as he turned toward the carriage.

One of his mercenaries quickly approached the vehicle and opened the door. She stepped out, her movements slow, weighed down by the burden of her pregnancy. She did not look at John, nor did he expect her to. She had no need to look at him. Her role was simple, her purpose clear. She was to bear his children and remain obedient to him, and that was all that mattered.

As the woman was escorted into the palace, John moved forward, his gaze fixed ahead. There was nothing more to say—he was the lord now. His men secured the perimeter, ensuring that nothing would disturb the peace of his arrival. He was a king in all but name. This was his palace now, and soon, the city would know nothing but his rule.

The grand staircase awaited, leading up to the upper floors of the palace. The stone steps, once polished and gleaming, were now worn and chipped. The shadows cast by the high ceilings seemed to stretch endlessly, and the sound of John's boots echoed through the empty hall, amplifying his every step. His men moved with precision, securing the palace, ensuring that no one could challenge their lord's claim.

At the top of the stairs, John was met with a familiar face—Lucius, standing in the center of the hall. The light from the broken windows bathed the room in an eerie glow, casting long shadows on Lucius' stern face. His posture was straight, his expression unwavering, as though he had been waiting for John's arrival since the moment he had left.

"Lucius," John greeted him, his voice devoid of warmth. "I trust everything is in order?"

Lucius nodded. "The palace is secure, my lord. The preparations for your arrival are complete. The men are stationed throughout the grounds, and everything is in place for your rule."

John studied Lucius for a moment, his sharp eyes narrowing. Lucius had proven himself time and time again. He was loyal, reliable, and utterly devoted to John's vision. There were few men in this world who could match Lucius in terms of loyalty, and that was something John valued above all else. He was the one person John could trust to help him maintain control of his growing empire.

"Good," John said, his voice cold but approving. "Make sure the palace is restored to its former glory. I want no reminders of the old lord's reign left. This place should reflect the new order, the new power."

Lucius bowed his head, acknowledging John's command. "It will be done, my lord. The restoration will begin immediately. We will make this palace a fitting seat for your rule."

John nodded curtly and turned to face the grand hall once more. His eyes swept across the room, taking in the worn tapestries, the cracked stone floors, and the broken windows. This palace was his now. It belonged to him, and soon, the entire city would be under his thumb. The world would bow before him.

He looked down at the woman, who had silently entered the hall behind him. She was standing near the stairs, her eyes distant, her hands resting on her swollen belly. She was nothing more than a vessel now, a tool to ensure the continuation of his bloodline. Her role had never been about love or affection. It was always about power.

"Ensure she is comfortable," John said, his voice flat and devoid of any emotion. "She will stay here, in the palace. Make sure she is kept in good condition. I have plans for her, and she will fulfill her role."

Lucius nodded, his face remaining impassive. "Of course, my lord. I will see to it personally."

John's gaze shifted toward the grand windows overlooking the city. The sprawling expanse of buildings, streets, and rooftops stretched out before him like a sea of opportunity. This city was his now, and soon, he would expand his influence. His empire would grow, one city at a time, until there was no one left to oppose him. He would crush any rebellion that dared to rise against him.

John turned back to Lucius, his eyes cold and calculating. "The restoration must be completed as soon as possible. I want this palace to reflect my power. The city is mine, and soon, the surrounding lands will belong to me as well."

Lucius bowed again, his expression steady. "It will be done, my lord. We will make sure the palace is a proper reflection of your strength."

John's hand clenched into a fist at his side. The mercenaries standing at attention around him were a reminder of the path he had taken—one marked by bloodshed, violence, and conquest. He had done whatever was necessary to get here, and now, with the city lord's palace in his possession, there was no going back.

John turned toward the stairs, his footsteps echoing through the hall as he made his way toward the upper floors. Lucius followed closely behind, ensuring that everything was in order. The palace was vast, and there was much to do, but it would be done. It would be made into a fitting home for a ruler like John.

The woman remained behind, her presence little more than a passing thought to him. She would fulfill her role, and that was all that mattered. This was his palace, his city, and soon, the world would know his name. The reign of John Noctis Solene had only just begun.