The Throne is Mine

The capital of Raegath was dead silent.

No more battle cries. No more screams. Only the sound of flames crackling, the occasional clash of metal as rubble collapsed, and the soft footsteps of the conqueror.

Valtherion walked through the bloodstained streets, his armor painted in crimson. His eyes scanned the ruined city. Bodies littered the roads, knights and civilians alike, their lifeless forms a testament to his absolute victory.

His soldiers stood behind him, watching in awe and terror. Some had witnessed great wars before. None had seen anything like this.

Valtherion's power was beyond human.

And now? Raegath belonged to him.

He reached the massive palace gates.

A single push—BANG! The gates crashed open.

Inside, the last remnants of Raegath's nobility huddled together, trembling as he stepped forward.

The royal court, once filled with arrogance, was reduced to cowards.

Valtherion's golden eyes scanned the room.

"Who among you," he said, voice dripping with amusement, "wants to die first?"

The End of a Kingdom

Silence.

Then—

"W-We surrender!"

An old noble, dressed in lavish robes, fell to his knees. His hands trembled as he clasped them together.

"Please, Your Majesty! Have mercy!"

Valtherion tilted his head. Mercy?

He stepped forward, his boots splashing in the blood on the marble floor.

The noble flinched.

Valtherion knelt beside him, placing a hand on his trembling shoulder.

"You want mercy?"

The noble nodded rapidly. "Y-Yes, please, My Lord! We were loyal to Raegath, but we can serve you now! W-We can offer—"

SPLURT!

A clean slice.

The noble's head rolled across the floor, his body collapsing with a dull thud.

Valtherion stood, wiping blood off his gauntlet.

"Next?"

The remaining nobles froze in terror.

Some tried to run. Bad idea.

In a single motion, Valtherion raised his hand. The shadows in the room twisted, forming dark tendrils that shot forward, skewering them where they stood.

SHLK!

One by one, they dropped.

The last survivor—a young noblewoman—fell to her knees, sobbing. "P-Please… I just—"

Valtherion ignored her.

He turned his gaze to the throne.

Raegath's royal seat, once belonging to kings who ruled for centuries, now stood empty.

He approached it slowly.

Then, with a satisfied sigh, he sat down.

The weight of his conquest settled in.

Raegath was dead.

Valtheria was absolute.

A New Order

The throne room doors burst open.

Isabelle and Elyndra stepped inside, their eyes immediately locking onto him.

Isabelle folded her arms. "You enjoyed that too much."

Elyndra chuckled. "He always does."

Valtherion leaned back, resting his head on his knuckles. "You two look disappointed."

"You slaughtered everyone," Isabelle said. "No trials, no negotiations. Just blood."

"Did you want me to hold their hands and ask nicely?" Valtherion smirked. "They were parasites. Now, they're corpses. Simple."

Elyndra nodded approvingly. "He's not wrong."

Isabelle sighed, rubbing her temples. "I swear, you're impossible."

Valtherion leaned forward, resting his elbows on the armrests. "We're done here. Now we move forward."

Elyndra smirked. "You mean stabilizing Valtheria?"

"Exactly."

Raegath was conquered, but the real challenge was ruling it.

Rebuilding a Broken Empire

The next few weeks were a whirlwind of activity.

Raegath's people, once defiant, now bowed to Valtheria. By force or by fear.

The soldiers reorganized the city, hunting down any lingering resistance. Traitors were executed publicly. Order was restored.

Valtherion spent his days signing decrees, overseeing military expansion, and ensuring his rule was absolute.

He sat on the throne, reviewing reports when a scout rushed in, kneeling before him.

"Your Majesty, urgent news!"

Valtherion raised an eyebrow. "Speak."

The scout hesitated before saying, "The Raegath prince… escaped."

Silence.

Valtherion's fingers tapped against the throne.

Then, he smiled.

"I see."

Isabelle, standing beside him, frowned. "You don't seem bothered."

"Why would I be?" Valtherion leaned back. "He'll come back eventually."

Elyndra smirked. "You sound sure."

"I am sure." Valtherion's golden eyes gleamed. "We'll meet again. And when we do… I'll carve my name into his soul."

A Visitor from the Past

That night, as the palace settled into its new rule, a messenger arrived.

She was clad in dark blue robes, her long silver hair flowing down her back. Her face was veiled, but her presence was unmistakable.

Solmara.

The former queen of Mythrendel.

The woman who once ruled half the continent.

Now? She stood before Valtherion.

The room tensed.

The guards gripped their weapons.

But Valtherion? He grinned.

"Didn't expect you so soon."

Solmara stepped forward, her gaze unwavering. "I had no choice. Word of your conquest spreads fast."

Valtherion gestured toward the seat beside him. "Sit."

She didn't move.

Instead, she stared into his golden eyes.

"I came here because I wanted to see it for myself." Her voice was calm, but there was an edge to it. "The man who conquered Raegath. The man who slaughtered an entire kingdom. The man… who now rules Valtheria."

Valtherion's grin widened. "Disappointed?"

Solmara's lips parted slightly.

"No."

For the first time in years, she felt something she thought she'd buried.

Fear.

But beneath that?

Something else.

Something dangerous.

And as she stared at the man on the throne, she realized—

This was only the beginning.