Chapter 166 - The Weight of Survival

The catacombs were cold, the air thick with dust and memory. Ancient stones curved overhead in quiet arcs, remnants of dynasties long buried. The Shadows had lit a handful of lanterns, their glow flickering against the carved walls and broken altars.

A silence lingered after the last set of footsteps echoed down the stairwell.

The king sat on a stone bench, shoulders sagging, robe torn and smeared with dust. The queen held their son close, murmuring soft prayers in Kikongo. Lord Mvemba paced nearby, jaw clenched, while the two other nobles remained seated, whispering among themselves, their nerves worn thin.

Zara stood before them, arms folded, back straight.

"I know you have questions," she said, breaking the silence. "And I know you don't trust us. But you need to understand—if we hadn't come for you tonight, you'd be dead by morning."

The king looked up, face still drawn with disbelief. "You expect me to believe this is a rescue?"