How Dare You ?

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The grand throne room was a place of immense splendor and power. It sat at the heart of the royal palace, stretching wide with towering pillars of polished marble that reached toward the high vaulted ceiling, where intricate designs of celestial patterns were painted in gold.

The floor beneath was a mosaic of silver , a reflection of the kingdom's wealth and history. At the far end of the room stood the golden throne, a magnificent structure carved from the finest materials, with intricate engravings that told the tale of the kingdom's long reign.

The walls were adorned with tapestries that depicted great battles, triumphs, and allegiances—a reminder to all who entered that the kingdom's strength had been earned through blood and sacrifice. But today, the opulence felt like a mask, hiding the simmering tension beneath.

The King sat atop the throne, his regal presence commanding respect as much as it inspired awe. King Xian, in his forties, was a man of striking handsomeness, with sharp, chiseled features and a jawline that spoke of unwavering authority.

His dark hair, touched with strands of silver at the temples, framed his face in an almost aristocratic fashion. His piercing eyes, dark as the midnight sky, held the wisdom and burden of leadership, and his posture as he sat upon his throne was a testament to his unyielding strength.

Donned in his royal robes, a deep crimson cloak trimmed with gold embroidered patterns draped around him, the king was every bit the embodiment of his title. The crimson of his attire contrasted sharply with the surrounding golds and whites of the room, creating an aura of regality and unassailable power.

Before him, standing in the center of the room, was a solitary figure—Elder Ma.

Unlike the King, Elder Ma had no need for the extravagance of robes or gold. His presence was marked by his sheer power and the years of wisdom etched into his features.

The elder's face was weathered with age, his deep-set eyes framed by the wrinkles of many battles fought—both physical and mental. His attire was simple: a dark gray robe with silver embroidery, the only adornment being a jade pendant that hung around his neck, representing his position in the royal family's inner circle.

Each elder had his own distinct presence, contributing to the tension in the air.

To his right, Elder Lan stood tall and composed, his dark brown eyes sharp like a hawk's. His white robes adorned with silver thread seemed to shimmer with every movement he made, as though his very presence commanded the air around him. He had a reputation for speaking his mind and acting decisively. Some feared his bluntness, others revered it. Today, though, there was a hardness in his gaze that none could ignore.

Elder Wei, often the quietest of the group, sat on the opposite side of the King. His gray robes flowed gently around his lean frame. His hair, black but graying at the edges, was tied back loosely. His face, usually serene, now bore the furrowed lines of someone lost in contemplation. There was no doubt that his mind was working furiously to understand the implications of the conspiracy.

Next to him, Elder Ji , clad in golden robes stood with his arms crossed, his posture rigid. His slim frame, despite his age, was as imposing as ever. Unlike the others, Ji concerned himself with the politics of the court. He was a man of wealth, and his restless energy was evident in the way he shifted from foot to foot. He was the kind of man who believed in quick decisions, bold moves, and the destruction of enemies before they could rise.

Finally, there was Elder Hong, his sharp features framed by a mane of silver hair. His demeanor was cool and collected, as always. His dark green robes were understated yet elegant, as if he did not need the grandeur of gold and silver to proclaim his authority. His eyes, however, were intense and calculating, and his reputation as a master of strategy was well-known.

With a slow and deliberate motion, Elder Ma bowed before the king, his head lowered as a sign of respect.

"Your Majesty," he began, his voice calm and steady, but with an undercurrent of urgency that caught the attention of all present. "I bring you unpleasant news."

The King, whose eyes had been following the elder's approach, allowed the silence to stretch for a moment before he spoke.

"You may stand, Elder Ma. We have been awaiting your report," King Xian said, his voice deep and composed. There was no trace of impatience in his tone, but rather a careful calm that bespoke his years of experience in matters of state.

Elder Ma straightened, though his demeanor remained respectful. "Thank you, Your Majesty." He hesitated for a fraction of a second, taking in the king's solemn form, before he began recounting the details in his usual methodical manner.

"The situation we face is more dire than we anticipated. The recent assassination attempts were not as they seemed. As you are aware, I have delved into the memories of one who seemed to be the leader assassins. From there, I uncovered truths that were hidden from the eyes of even our most trusted allies."

As Elder Ma spoke, the other elders in the room—five men of significant standing—shifted in their seats. They were seated in a semicircle beneath the throne, each of them dressed in robes that denoted their particular station.

Elder Jiang, the eldest of them all, sat closest to the King, his thin, frail frame almost seeming to shrink into the folds of his dark blue robe.

Elder Lan, a man of sharp wit and sharper tongue, sat with his arms folded, his expression one of deep thought.

Beside him was Elder Wei, whose normally calm and passive demeanor was now replaced with an intensity that spoke volumes.

Elder Ji, the most direct and action-oriented of the elders, looked impatient, his leg bouncing rhythmically, as though preparing to leap into action at any moment.

Finally, Elder Hong, known for his diplomatic nature, kept his hands clasped before him, watching Elder Ma with a calculating gaze.

Elder Ma's words took form slowly, but surely, as he began detailing everything—starting with Fei Yue's report.

The tensions of the room heightened with every new revelation: the secret order, the involvement of powerful families hidden beneath the veneer of normalcy, and the shocking truth that even the assassins had no idea who their true masters were. The conspiracy had roots far deeper than they had ever imagined.

As the elder finished his narration, a silence settled over the room, thick and uncomfortable. It was a moment where everyone in the room seemed to wrestle with the gravity of the situation. The faces of the elders were hard to read—each one lost in thought, calculating the best course of action.

The King, for his part, sat upright, his hands folded on his lap, his eyes narrowed in concentration. The flames from the torches flickered in the quiet, adding to the intensity of the atmosphere.

The weight of the situation hung heavy in the air, and the King knew—he could feel it in his bones—that this was no longer just a matter of political intrigue. The foundations of his kingdom were being threatened, and this was not something he could ignore.

"I trust you, Elder Ma," the King finally spoke, his voice steady, though there was an unmistakable edge to it now. "This is... unsettling. But what do you propose we do?"

The room shifted again as each of the elders prepared to give their opinion.

Elder Jiang, the oldest of the group, was hunched over slightly, his movements deliberate as though every step was measured. His long beard cascaded down to his chest, and his pale blue robes were embroidered with patterns of the stars. His eyes, however, were not soft. They were calculating, hidden behind the veil of his age.

Elder Jiang, despite his age, spoke first, his voice fragile but firm.

"This situation, Your Majesty, is not something we can resolve with mere force. These families—the ones who pull the strings from the shadows—they are as ancient and powerful as the throne itself. If we confront them directly, it could lead to a civil war. The kingdom could tear itself apart."

He paused, glancing around the room as though searching for support. None of the other elders spoke at once, and after a long silence, Elder Lan leaned forward, his sharp eyes gleaming with a quiet determination.

"I disagree with Elder Jiang," he said, his tone clipped. "This is the time for bold action, not hesitation. These conspirators must be dealt with swiftly before their influence spreads further. If we wait, the kingdom will be doomed to fracture into factions, and we will lose control. We must act before it is too late."

There was an audible tension between the two elders, a difference in their strategies. Elder Wei, who had remained silent thus far, now spoke with a calm that contrasted with the others' fiery rhetoric.

"Perhaps, Elder Lan, you are right in your urgency," he began, his voice calm and measured. "But Elder Jiang also speaks truth. If we strike at them directly, it may backfire, especially if they are more entrenched than we think. I propose a more subtle approach. We begin by infiltrating their ranks. We find their weaknesses and strike when they least expect it."

Elder Ji, always quick to act, added his voice to the conversation, his impatience now clear in his posture.

"Infiltration? Too slow," he snapped. "We need to strike now. There is no time for subtlety. These traitors must be eradicated, and we can deal with the consequences later."

"I believe," Elder Hong said slowly, his voice soft but cutting through the tension in the room, "that both sides are correct. We cannot afford to act rashly, nor can we remain idle. There are many ways to strike without directly confronting them. We can use spies, allies within their ranks, and undermine their operations slowly, from the inside. Let them destroy themselves without even realizing it."

The room fell into a heavy silence as the King absorbed the words of each elder. They all had valid points, but the path forward was anything but clear. His kingdom, his very throne, was at stake. Every decision now could change the course of history.

As the elders exchanged their opinions, King Xian remained silent, his brow furrowed as he listened to the contrasting views. He had always prided himself on being a ruler who considered all perspectives before making a decision, but this was different. The stakes were too high, and every decision carried the weight of the kingdom's future.

When the last of the elders had spoken, the King raised his hand, calling for silence. The room immediately fell still.

"I understand your concerns," King Xian began, his voice carrying the quiet authority that only a true leader possessed. "Each of you has presented a valid argument, but I must remind you that this is not a matter to be resolved with haste. If we act without careful thought, we risk tearing apart the very foundation of our empire. I will not allow that."

He paused, allowing the weight of his words to sink in. Then, in a voice that brooked no further disagreement, he added, "We will proceed with caution. But make no mistake—this conspiracy will be brought to light. We will root it out, piece by piece."

The King stood from his throne, his regal presence filling the room.

"Prepare yourselves," he commanded. "This is the beginning of something far larger than any of us imagined."

There was no mistaking the finality in his tone. The elders nodded, some with more enthusiasm than others, but all recognizing the King's resolve.

Elder Ma, who had remained quiet during the discussion, stepped forward, his eyes still filled with the gravity of his findings.

"Your Majesty, I have one final piece of information, you have been ignoring. The assassin's memory revealed something, a clue. It may be the key to unlocking this mystery."

The King turned his gaze toward the elder, his curiosity piqued.

"What is it?"

Elder Ma's eyes darkened. " A petal. A petal from plum blossom. "

The room froze. The King's mind raced. 'Why? Could this be the key to everything?'

Elder Ji was quick to reply. " How come they are related? The last time we saw it was thirteen years ago!"

Elder Ma, always the one who didn't lose his composure, stared at Elder Ji in boredom.

" Thirteen years ago, an attack happened, and the memories of the assassins were wiped. Only a plum blossom petal was left. "

" Elder Ji, tell me, how are they not connected?"

He stared at Elder Ji calmly, but whether it was out of fear, or anger, Elder Ji's face was red, and scrunched up, like he was having difficulty in breathing.

King Xian sat back down , and breathed deeply.

" What…are you insinuating?"

Elder Ma turned his face to the king , and smiled. " If you had allowed me , we would have a clue by now. Don't you miss your daughter?"

" How dare you speak to His Majesty that way ?!! " A shrill high pitched scream echoed loudly in the throne room.