Chapter 31: The King's Proclamation

The halls of the Noah Empire's newly conquered palace in Solaria were bathed in golden light from the setting sun, yet within its walls, an uneasy silence lingered. Soldiers patrolled cautiously, the tension of war still fresh despite victory. The banners of the Kingdom of Light had been torn down, replaced with the sigil of Noah—the golden phoenix rising from flames. Yet despite the conquest, David Haipoli knew clearly—the battle was not yet over.

He stood at the central balcony, overlooking the vast city below. The streets were alive with murmurs—some voices of relief, others of uncertainty. Solaria, the supposed holy capital, had fallen, and now its people stood at a crossroads. Would they accept David as ruler, or would they resist?

Beside him, Athena, regal as ever, surveyed the scene with thoughtful eyes. "The people remain wary," she observed. "They were raised to believe Noah's empire was built on blood, that you are a tyrant."

David's gaze did not waver. "Then let them see clearly who I truly am."

As the palace bells tolled, signaling a public gathering, David stepped forward onto the grand balcony, his silhouette framed by the crimson sky. Thousands of people filled the courtyard below, watching in tense anticipation. Even the defeated knights of Solaria stood among them, bound by duty and tradition.

David's voice rang out, strong and unwavering. "People of Solaria, hear me! Your king, Lucius, has fallen—not by betrayal, but by his own deceit. He waged war in the name of righteousness while committing murder in the shadows. He sought power, not justice."

A hush fell over the crowd. The words stung, for many had believed in Lucius's divine rule. But doubt had already crept into their hearts, especially after his cowardly surrender.

"I do not come to destroy your faith, nor to steal your lands," David continued. "I come to bring an end to the age of false kings, to unite this continent under justice, strength, and wisdom. The Noah Empire does not enslave; it protects."

Murmurs rippled through the audience. Some nodded cautiously, while others looked uncertain. David knew trust would take time, but the first seeds had been planted.

As he turned back into the palace, Athena smiled. "You did not demand loyalty; you inspired it."

David exhaled, feeling the weight of the moment. "Inspiration alone will not hold an empire. We must prove ourselves worthy."

---

The Trial of Lucius

The next day, King Lucius of the fallen Kingdom of Light was brought before the grand court. Once adorned in fine silks and golden embroidery, he now stood in tattered robes, his crown stripped away. His hands were bound in iron shackles, yet his eyes burned with resentment.

The chamber was filled with nobles, generals, and representatives from across the empire. Among them sat Jacques, the rightful king of the Strength Kingdom, alongside Peter, Lily, and Jiang. It was a momentous occasion—the trial of a king by the will of the people, rather than the blade.

Lucius sneered. "So this is how it ends? A farce disguised as justice? You have no right to judge me, Haipoli."

David met his gaze without flinching. "You waged war against my people, murdered innocents, and betrayed alliances. It is not I who judges you—it is the world you sought to deceive."

One by one, witnesses stepped forward. Former generals of Solaria confessed how Lucius had orchestrated secret assassinations and manipulated religious texts to control his people. Merchants testified how he taxed the lower classes into poverty while hoarding riches in the palace. Even his own knights, once fiercely loyal, remained silent, their shame evident.

Lucius's smirk faltered as reality closed in around him.

After hours of testimony, David turned to the council. "What say you?"

Jacques rose, his voice clear. "Lucius is guilty of treason, tyranny, and the corruption of faith. He has led thousands to their deaths for his own ambition."

Peter stepped forward. "The penalty for such crimes is death."

Lucius's eyes darted wildly, searching for an escape. "I am a king! You cannot do this!"

David regarded him calmly. "You were a king. Today, you are nothing but a man who betrayed his people."

He turned to the gathered assembly. "The people of Solaria must see justice done. Lucius shall be executed publicly at sunrise. Let his fall be a lesson—no ruler is above justice."

The verdict was clear.

As Lucius was dragged away, he screamed curses, but no one listened. His reign had ended.

---

A New Threat Rises

That night, while the city prepared for Lucius's execution, a messenger arrived from the palace archives. He bore ancient scrolls—the texts David had ordered translated.

"My lord," the scholar said, breathless with excitement and fear. "We have deciphered the inscriptions beneath the temple ruins."

David took the parchment and scanned the writings carefully. His expression darkened.

"These texts," the scholar continued hesitantly, "speak of a forgotten force—a power older than the kingdoms of men. A prophecy foretells that when the kings of this world fall, the Old Gods shall awaken."

Athena frowned. "Superstition?"

David set the scroll down carefully. "Perhaps. But what concerns me is this line—'The blood of a false king shall be the key.'"

They exchanged uneasy glances.

Lucius was set to die at sunrise.

Could this prophecy be referring to his execution?

David clenched his fist. "Postpone the execution. We must investigate further."

---

The Unseen Hand

As dawn approached, chaos erupted within the palace. Lucius had escaped.

The guards who had been stationed at his cell were found slain, their throats cut with eerie precision. No signs of struggle. No forced doors.

Peter stormed into the war chamber, fury evident in his eyes. "This was no ordinary escape. Someone powerful is behind this."

Jiang, having examined the scene, added grimly, "There was no struggle, no signs of forced entry. Either the guards let him go willingly, or… someone—or something—took him."

David's mind raced. If the prophecy held even a sliver of truth, then Lucius's blood might have played a role in whatever had just begun.

He turned to Athena, his expression unreadable. "We must find him—before the unseen forces that freed him do."

The War of Kings had ended.

But a far older war was about to begin.