Chapter 7;- A City of Shadows

"Sebastian!"

The name rang through the grand corridor like a death sentence.

Sebastian froze mid-step, his body stiffening as though he had been struck by lightning. Slowly, he turned, his eyes wide, disbelieving.

No. No, this wasn't possible. Rhaegar was dead. He was supposed to be dead!

And yet, standing before him, draped in shadow, eyes gleaming with unholy power, was the very man he had betrayed.

Sebastian took a step back, then another. "T-This isn't real." His voice wavered, panic setting in. "You died."

Rhaegar tilted his head, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. "You should know by now, Sebastian—I don't die that easily."

The air in the corridor shifted, a suffocating tension settling in. The guards stationed nearby hesitated, gripping their weapons but unwilling to move. They had all heard the rumors—the whispers of something unnatural, something terrifying stalking the lands.

Sebastian's throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. Then, in a desperate attempt to regain control, he sneered. "You're nothing but a ghost, Rhaegar. A shadow of what you used to be. And I—"

He didn't finish.

Because in the blink of an eye, Rhaegar moved.

Sebastian barely had time to react before a fist slammed into his gut, sending him hurtling across the corridor. He crashed into a marble pillar, the stone cracking from the impact.

Lucian whistled. "Oof. That looked painful."

Sebastian coughed, staggering to his feet. Blood trickled from his mouth as he wiped it away with shaking fingers. His mind was racing. How was this happening? How was Rhaegar this strong?

Rhaegar strode toward him, his boots echoing through the silent hall. "You took everything from me." His voice was cold, devoid of mercy. "And yet, here you are, parading around like a king. Like you deserve any of this."

Sebastian's eyes darted to the guards. "What are you all waiting for?! KILL HIM!"

The hesitation shattered. The guards lunged.

It didn't matter.

Rhaegar became a storm. His sword cut through the first soldier like a scythe through wheat. Blood painted the walls as he spun, dodging an incoming blade with ease before shattering the attacker's ribs with a single punch.

Lucian had drawn his own weapons by now, slicing through enemies like a man who had been dying for some action. "Man, I forgot how much fun this was!"

Sebastian stumbled back, watching in horror as his men were slaughtered.

And then Rhaegar was on him again.

A blade pressed against his throat.

Sebastian froze, chest heaving.

"You should be dead," he whispered, his voice cracking.

Rhaegar leaned in close, his breath chilling against Sebastian's ear. "And you should have killed me properly."

Sebastian shuddered.

Rhaegar pulled back, raising his sword—

Sebastian threw himself to the ground. The blade sliced into the pillar instead, splitting stone like butter.

Taking the opening, Sebastian bolted.

Lucian groaned. "Oh, for f—are you serious? He's running? Like a damn rat?"

"Let him," Rhaegar muttered, wiping the blood from his blade.

Lucian frowned. "You're not gonna chase him?"

Rhaegar's eyes burned like the abyss itself. "There's no need."

Because by the time the night was over, the whole kingdom would know.

Rhaegar Crowne had returned.

The city was drowning in fear.

By sunrise, the news had spread like wildfire—Sebastian had fled.

The king who had once paraded himself as untouchable, the man who had orchestrated Rhaegar's downfall, had barely escaped with his life.

The people whispered, terrified.

"Did you hear? He came back—Rhaegar Crowne. They said he walked through fire and death itself!"

"The guards were slaughtered like insects!"

"Sebastian barely escaped! What kind of monster did he create?"

The city of Veldrith had never known true terror until now.

And Rhaegar? He basked in it.

Lucian leaned back in his chair, propping his boots up on the table of the abandoned tavern they had taken over. The place had been emptied out the moment word got around that they were here.

Not that he was complaining. More space for them.

"Y'know, I gotta admit," Lucian said, chewing on a stolen apple. "I thought we'd have to kill a whole army to get people to shut up and respect us. Turns out, just kicking Sebastian's ass did the trick."

Rhaegar sat across from him, sharpening his blade with slow, deliberate strokes. His expression was unreadable.

Lucian sighed, watching him. "Alright, what's with that brooding face? You should be happy. You finally got your revenge—well, halfway, at least."

Rhaegar didn't look up. "This isn't over."

"No shit," Lucian muttered, rolling his eyes. "But dude, take a second. You just made the most arrogant bastard alive run for his life. That's gotta feel good."

Rhaegar exhaled, setting his sword down. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. "Sebastian isn't the only one who betrayed me."

Lucian smirked. "Ah. So, we're doing a whole 'hunt down every traitor one by one' kinda thing?"

"Yes."

"Damn. You're really committed to this villain arc, huh?"

Rhaegar gave him a dry look.

Lucian raised his hands in surrender. "Hey, no complaints from me. Just saying, most people would take a vacation after terrifying an entire city."

Rhaegar ignored him, turning his gaze toward the window. From here, he could see the streets—silent, wary. People moved quickly, their eyes darting around, afraid of catching the attention of the wrong person.

Afraid of him.

He had waited years for this moment. To take back the power stolen from him, to make every traitor regret their choices.

And this was just the beginning.

A frantic knocking interrupted their conversation.

Lucian groaned. "What now?"

The door creaked open, revealing a terrified man. His face was pale, sweat dripping down his forehead as he clutched a rolled-up parchment.

"L-Lord Crowne," the man stammered. "I—"

Rhaegar raised a brow. "Speak."

The man swallowed hard and shoved the parchment forward with trembling hands. "A message. From…from the capital."

Rhaegar took it, unfolding the letter. His eyes flickered over the words, and a slow smirk stretched across his lips.

Lucian leaned over. "Good news?"

"Sebastian is running straight into my trap."

Lucian leaned back in his chair, tossing his half-eaten apple across the room. It hit the wall with a dull thud before rolling onto the floor, forgotten.

"Man, this guy is dumber than I thought." He stretched his arms above his head, smirking. "Tell me, what's the genius up to now?"

Rhaegar's fingers tightened around the parchment, his smirk sharpening into something almost predatory. "He's fled to the capital, seeking protection from the high council."

Lucian let out a laugh. "Oh, that's rich. The same council that probably laughed behind his back while he stole your throne? I bet they're already thinking of ways to sell him out."

Rhaegar's eyes gleamed. "They won't have to. He's walking into my hands without realizing it." He set the letter down, tapping a finger against the rough wooden surface of the table. "Sebastian thinks the capital is safe. That it still holds the same power it once did."

Lucian snorted. "He's in for a rude awakening."

"Exactly." Rhaegar leaned forward, his voice dropping into a dangerous whisper. "The capital has changed. It's rotting from the inside, weak, divided. The people no longer have faith in their rulers. They live in fear, knowing corruption runs deep."

Lucian raised a brow. "So, what's the plan? March in and kill him in broad daylight?"

Rhaegar shook his head. "Too easy. Too clean." He traced a slow circle on the table with his fingertip. "No, Sebastian doesn't deserve an easy death. He needs to watch everything he built crumble before him. He needs to feel powerless."

Lucian let out a low whistle. "Damn. Remind me never to piss you off."

Rhaegar ignored the remark. "We leave at dawn."

Lucian groaned. "Ugh, why dawn? That means I actually have to wake up early."

Rhaegar gave him an unimpressed look. "Are you complaining about revenge now?"

"I'm complaining about waking up before noon," Lucian muttered. "But fine. I guess watching Sebastian suffer will make up for it."

Rhaegar smirked. "Trust me. It will."

By the time dawn broke, the two were already on horseback, riding toward the capital.

The road stretched long before them, cutting through endless fields and shadowed forests. The morning air was crisp, laced with the scent of damp earth. Birds stirred in the trees, their calls distant and hollow.

Lucian, ever the talker, had not stopped complaining since they left.

"This horse is uncomfortable."

"Why couldn't we steal a carriage?"

"My ass hurts."

Rhaegar, unsurprisingly, ignored every single one of his grievances.

Lucian huffed. "You know, a good leader listens to his most trusted ally."

"A good leader ignores nonsense," Rhaegar replied smoothly.

Lucian gasped dramatically. "Nonsense? My suffering is nonsense?"

"Yes."

Lucian groaned, throwing his head back. "I swear, I don't know why I stick around with you. I should've joined Sebastian's side."

Rhaegar gave him a sideways glance, his smirk returning. "You wouldn't last a day with him. He'd execute you for talking too much."

Lucian considered this for a moment, then sighed. "Fair point. Still, you could at least pretend to care about my comfort."

Rhaegar looked forward again, his expression hardening. "Comfort is a luxury I lost long ago."

The weight in his voice shut Lucian up—for a moment.

Then, of course, he ruined it.

"Wow. That was deep. Almost poetic. You should write a book."

Rhaegar gave him a look of pure exhaustion. "Lucian."

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

Lucian grinned. "As you command, oh terrifying one."

By midday, the towering walls of the capital came into view.

Rhaegar's eyes narrowed. It's been too long.

The last time he had seen these walls, he had been dragged through the gates in chains, beaten, bleeding—a man marked for death.

But now?

Now he would return as the nightmare they had created.

The capital loomed ahead, its massive stone walls stretching toward the sky like the ribs of a long-dead beast. Banners fluttered weakly in the wind, their once-proud colors faded with time. The city beyond was a sprawl of towering structures, narrow alleyways, and streets teeming with people who had no idea the storm coming their way.

Rhaegar slowed his horse, his sharp gaze drinking in every detail. The guards at the gates—six of them, armored, but barely alert. The merchants peddling their wares, too focused on their sales to notice danger approaching. The beggars, the nobles, the workers—all of them oblivious to the reckoning that was about to unfold.

Lucian pulled up beside him, cracking his neck. "Well, would you look at that? A city still standing. Guess we'll have to fix that."

Rhaegar said nothing. His grip on the reins tightened as the memories clawed their way back—his trial, the jeering crowds, the sneering nobles who had once knelt before him.

Sebastian's voice, arrogant and triumphant: "This is what happens to traitors."

Rhaegar exhaled slowly, forcing the rage back into the depths of his mind. There would be time for that later.

Lucian rolled his shoulders. "So, what's the grand entrance plan? Do we waltz in like we own the place? Or sneak in like rats?"

Rhaegar smirked. "We walk through the front gate."

Lucian blinked. "Oh. Well, alright then. Bold choice." He glanced at the guards. "I assume we're not exactly welcome here?"

"Not yet."

Lucian sighed dramatically. "Great. So, we'll have to kill them, won't we?"

Rhaegar didn't answer—because he didn't need to.

The guards barely had time to react before steel met flesh.

Rhaegar moved first, his blade slicing through the nearest man's throat in a single, fluid motion. Blood sprayed across the cobblestone as the guard collapsed, gurgling.

Lucian whistled. "Damn. No hesitation, huh?"

The others lunged forward, but they were sloppy—unprepared for true warriors.

Lucian drew his twin daggers, sidestepping a clumsy strike and driving his blade into the attacker's ribs. The man gasped, eyes wide, before Lucian yanked the dagger free and kicked him to the ground.

"Tsk. You guys are really underpaid, huh?" Lucian mused, dodging another attack. He twisted behind his opponent and drove his dagger into the man's spine.

The last two guards tried to run.

They didn't make it far.

Rhaegar flicked his wrist—and the shadows obeyed.

Dark tendrils shot forward, wrapping around the fleeing men like serpents, yanking them backward. They barely had time to scream before the shadows crushed them into silence.

Lucian stared at the aftermath, wiping the blood off his blades. "You and your creepy powers, man. Not gonna lie, that's still unsettling."

Rhaegar ignored him, stepping over the bodies as he approached the massive iron gates. He pushed them open with ease, stepping into the city like a god returning to his forsaken kingdom.

Lucian followed, hands behind his head. "Alright, next stop—finding our dear idiot king. Should we send him a letter first? Maybe something poetic? 'Dear Sebastian, prepare to die. Love, your worst nightmare.'"

Rhaegar smirked. "No need. He'll know I'm here soon enough."

And as the sun cast its light over the city, the people turned—eyes widening in horror as they saw him.

Gasps. Murmurs.

"Impossible!"

"He was supposed to be dead!"

"Rhaegar Crowne…he's back."

Rhaegar let them stare. Let the fear settle in. Let them remember exactly who he was.

Because this city?

It was his now

The whispers turned into murmurs. The murmurs turned into frantic gasps.

Some people backed away, pulling their cloaks tighter as if shrinking into themselves would make them invisible. Others stood frozen, their faces draining of color as recognition struck them like a blade to the gut.

"Rhaegar Crowne…" The name spread like wildfire, rippling through the streets, leaping from mouth to mouth.

Lucian snorted. "Huh. Feels like we just walked into our own fan club." He shot a glance at a wide-eyed noble, who clutched his gold-embroidered cloak like it would protect him. "Oh, relax. We're not killing anyone. Yet."

The noble let out a pathetic squeak and bolted into the nearest alley.

Rhaegar barely acknowledged the reaction. His focus was ahead, on the grand marble towers that loomed over the city like judgmental gods.

The castle.

The place where Sebastian sat on a throne that was never meant to be his.

Lucian nudged Rhaegar with his elbow. "Alright, boss. Are we just gonna stroll in there like we own the place?" He paused, then grinned. "Wait. We do own the place. Or, well… you do. I'm just the freeloading sidekick."

Rhaegar's lips curled into a smirk. "We walk. Let them watch. Let them feel the weight of my presence before the real storm begins."

Lucian whistled. "Damn. You really love the whole 'terrifying, unstoppable force of vengeance' thing, huh?"

Rhaegar ignored him. His boots echoed against the cobblestone, a steady, deliberate rhythm that cut through the chaotic murmurs.

Guards finally snapped out of their stupor, scrambling to intercept them.

"Stop right there!" one of them shouted, voice shaking slightly.

Lucian let out a theatrical sigh. "And here we go."

Rhaegar didn't slow his stride. He fixed the guard with a stare so cold that the man visibly flinched.

"You know who I am." His voice was calm, almost casual. "And you know that if you raise your sword against me, you won't live long enough to regret it."

The guard hesitated.

Lucian leaned toward him. "Look, buddy, you seem like a decent guy. I'd hate for you to die over a king who wouldn't even remember your name."

The guard gulped. His grip on the sword loosened.

Rhaegar took another step forward, his presence suffocating. "Leave. Or die."

The guards exchanged quick, panicked glances. Then, in perfect synchronization, they turned on their heels and fled.

Lucian laughed. "Damn. I was hoping for a bit more resistance. That was too easy."

"They're not stupid," Rhaegar said. "They know what happens to those who stand in my way."

A crash echoed from one of the nearby buildings—someone had dropped a crate in their haste to retreat indoors. Doors slammed shut. Curtains were drawn.

The entire street emptied as if the city itself was holding its breath.

Lucian spread his arms. "Would you look at that? We just conquered the capital without lifting a finger. Must be nice to be terrifying."

Rhaegar didn't respond. His eyes were locked onto the massive castle gates ahead.

Lucian followed his gaze and grinned. "Well, no turning back now." He cracked his knuckles. "Shall we go say hello to our dear king?"

Rhaegar exhaled slowly.

"Yes. Let's remind him who he tried to bury."

And with that, they marched toward the throne that was rightfully his.

The castle doors loomed ahead, towering like the gates of judgment. Guards stood in formation, their armor gleaming under the flickering torchlight. Unlike the city guards, these men didn't tremble or hesitate. These were Sebastian's personal sentinels—loyalists who had been trained to kill or die for their king.

Lucian whistled. "Well, well. Look at that. We finally found the brave ones." He nudged Rhaegar. "What's the plan, boss? Intimidation again? Or do we get to have some fun?"

Rhaegar slowed his stride, his gaze locked on the armored figures ahead. There were at least twenty of them, lined up like statues, gripping their weapons with unwavering resolve. Good. It had been too long since his blade tasted blood.

One of the guards stepped forward, his voice steady. "You are not welcome here, Rhaegar Crowne."

Lucian snorted. "Yeah? And you're not welcome to live, but here we are."

The guard ignored him, eyes locked onto Rhaegar. "Turn back. This is your only warning."

Rhaegar's expression remained unreadable. His fingers flexed at his side, itching to unsheath the Black Blade—the weapon that pulsed with the hunger of the abyss. But he held back.

"Move aside." His voice was calm, absolute.

The guard didn't flinch. "You are a traitor to the crown. We will not let you take another step toward His Majesty."

Lucian sighed. "Oh boy. You had to say that, didn't you?"

Before another word could be spoken, Rhaegar moved.

A blur of motion—so fast that the guards barely had time to register it. In a single sweep, his blade was drawn, and the first head hit the stone with a sickening thud. Blood sprayed across the steps, and silence fell over the remaining men.

Lucian let out a low whistle. "Damn. Didn't even let the poor guy finish his heroic speech."

Rhaegar turned his gaze toward the rest. "You all serve a false king. But I will offer you this once—kneel, and you may live."

For a moment, no one spoke. Then—

"KILL HIM!"

The guards lunged forward, steel flashing in the torchlight.

Rhaegar welcomed the challenge.

He sidestepped the first blade, twisting around the attacker and driving his sword clean through the man's back. Before the body even hit the ground, he wrenched his weapon free and blocked another strike. Sparks flew. Metal screamed against metal.

Lucian, grinning like a madman, had already engaged three at once. "Ah, finally! Some real action!" He ducked under a halberd swing, driving his dagger into the wielder's thigh before slashing across his throat. "You guys should really consider a different profession!"

Another came at Rhaegar, swinging with desperate fury. Rhaegar caught the blade against his own, then shoved forward with sheer force, sending the man staggering. With a single precise strike, he severed his head from his shoulders.

The remaining guards hesitated now, stepping back, sweat glistening beneath their helmets.

Lucian twirled a bloodied dagger between his fingers. "Still wanna fight? Or should we skip to the part where you beg?"

Two guards exchanged looks—then turned and ran.

Rhaegar didn't bother stopping them. Let them warn Sebastian. Let the false king know his time was up.

The last few, however, chose to stay.

"Fools." Rhaegar's voice was almost bored as he advanced.

One tried to strike, but he was too slow. Rhaegar sidestepped, grabbed the man's wrist, and with an effortless twist—SNAP. The guard screamed as his arm bent the wrong way, but the sound was cut short as Rhaegar's sword plunged into his chest.

Lucian, meanwhile, had stabbed one guard so many times the man looked more like a pincushion than a soldier. He glanced at the last remaining one, who was shaking violently, sword barely staying in his grip.

Lucian smiled. "Go on. Do something stupid. I dare you."

The man dropped his weapon and bolted.

Lucian wiped his blade on one of the corpses. "Smartest guy we've seen all day."

Rhaegar turned to the massive doors of the throne room. Blood dripped from his sword, pooling at his feet.

"It's time."

Lucian cracked his knuckles. "Oh, I am SO ready for this."

Rhaegar lifted his boot—and with a single kick, the doors of the throne room burst open.

The heavy doors slammed open, crashing against the marble walls with a deafening boom. The golden chandeliers overhead trembled from the force, their flames flickering as if the room itself had taken a sharp breath.

At the far end of the hall, sprawled across his stolen throne, sat Sebastian.

Even injured—his left arm still wrapped in thick bandages, his cheek marred by a fresh scar—he had the audacity to smirk. His long, jewel-encrusted robe draped over his legs, one boot propped against the side of the throne as if this were his personal lounging chair rather than the seat of power he had stolen.

He tilted his head lazily, his golden crown slightly askew, as if the effort of sitting up straight was simply too much for him.

"Well, well." His voice, smooth as silk but dripping with condescension, echoed through the vast hall. "Look who decided to crawl back from the grave. How was death, dear cousin? Cozy?"

Lucian scoffed. "Oh, I hate him already."

Rhaegar stepped forward, his boots clicking against the pristine marble floor, now tainted with the faint streaks of blood from the guards outside. His sword was still dripping, leaving a crimson trail in his wake.

"Sebastian." Rhaegar's voice was calm—too calm. A storm waiting to break.

Sebastian grinned, leaning forward. "Oh, don't be so stiff, Rhaegar. You should be thanking me. I mean, look at you—alive, stronger than ever, making quite the entrance. If I hadn't arranged for your execution, would you have ever become the terrifying force of vengeance you are today?"

Lucian stared at him, incredulous. "Is he seriously trying to take credit for your comeback?"

Sebastian spread his arms as if expecting applause. "I am merely stating the facts. If anything, I've done you a favor. You should be grateful."

Rhaegar let out a slow, measured breath. Grateful. The word itself was almost laughable.

"Grateful?" His voice dipped lower, colder. The torches dimmed. "You stole my throne. You had me executed. You fed my name to the crows, turned my people against me, and now—" his grip on the Black Blade tightened "—you sit there, smirking, thinking you're untouchable."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "Oh, but I am untouchable. You see, dear cousin, I still have an entire army at my command. You?" He gestured vaguely toward Lucian. "You have… what? A sarcastic sidekick and a bad attitude?"

Lucian placed a hand on his chest, mock-offended. "Hey, I am an EXCEPTIONALLY sarcastic sidekick, thank you very much."

Sebastian chuckled. "Exactly my point."

Rhaegar took another step closer, but Sebastian didn't flinch. In fact, he grinned wider.

"You really don't get it, do you?" Sebastian leaned back, tapping his fingers against the golden armrest. "You may have power, Rhaegar, but you don't have control. This kingdom? It still fears me more than it fears you. They don't see you as a rightful king—they see you as a ghost. A monster crawling back from the abyss."

His mocking smile widened.

"And no one follows a monster."

Silence.

Then—

Rhaegar laughed.

Low at first. Amused. Almost entertained.

Then it grew.

A deep, resonant sound that sent a chill through the air.

Sebastian's smirk faltered.

Lucian, meanwhile, grinned. "Oh no. You've done it now. See, when he laughs like that? Someone's about to die."

Rhaegar's laughter faded, his eyes locking onto Sebastian's with an intensity that could break stone.

"A monster?" He tilted his head slightly. "Good. Because monsters don't have mercy."

In the next instant—

He moved.

Sebastian barely had time to react before Rhaegar was upon him.

His sword swung—Sebastian barely rolled away in time, tumbling off the throne and onto the cold marble. The blade sliced through the golden armrest like butter, sparks flying as metal met stone.

"Oh, shit—" Sebastian scrambled to his feet, his cocky demeanor cracking as he reached for the rapier at his side. He barely unsheathed it before Rhaegar struck again.

Steel clashed.

The impact sent Sebastian staggering back. He gritted his teeth, blocking another swing just in time, but Rhaegar was relentless. Strike after strike—raw, unfiltered power behind every blow.

Sebastian was fast. But Rhaegar was faster.

"You've gotten stronger," Sebastian panted, barely dodging another cut. "I'll give you that."

Rhaegar slammed his foot into Sebastian's chest, sending him crashing against the steps of the throne.

Sebastian coughed, wiping blood from his mouth. But even then—he smiled.

"And yet…" He lifted his rapier. "You still haven't killed me."

Rhaegar paused.

Sebastian smirked. "Ah. There it is. The hesitation. You talk big, Rhaegar, but deep down? You're still the same sentimental fool. You can't do it, can you?"

Lucian crossed his arms, watching. "Man, you really love gambling with your life, huh?"

Sebastian ignored him, his gaze locked onto Rhaegar's. "Kill me, cousin. Prove me wrong."

Rhaegar stood still. His blade hovered just inches from Sebastian's throat.

Sebastian's smirk widened.

And then—

Rhaegar withdrew his sword.

Sebastian blinked. "…What?"

Rhaegar's voice was calm, steady. "Killing you would be too easy."

Sebastian's smirk vanished.

"You took everything from me," Rhaegar continued, sheathing his sword. "Now, I'll return the favor."

Lucian grinned. "Oh, this is gonna be good."

Sebastian's breath hitched. For the first time that night, true fear flickered in his eyes.

Rhaegar turned toward the throne.

And then—he sat down.

Sebastian's hands clenched into fists. "You—"

Rhaegar leaned back, resting an arm over the golden armrest.

"This throne was never yours, Sebastian." His voice was absolute. "You were just keeping it warm for me."

Sebastian staggered back, as if reality had just hit him like a blade to the gut.

The King had returned.