Blackwood Castle – The Silent Throne

The grand hall was eerily quiet. The once-bustling chamber, where Chris had commanded the world with a single word, now stood as a symbol of the past. His throne remained, but he never sat on it anymore. It was Ethan's now.

Chris watched from the shadows, seated in a smaller chair at the far end of the room. Not a throne—just a seat. A reminder that he no longer ruled.

Ethan stood before the council, his presence commanding. Classic was beside him, a steady force, while Christiana observed, calculating as always. The air was thick with unspoken tension.

"The first directive under my rule," Ethan began, his voice even, "is to consolidate all remaining territories under the Blackwood banner. Any nation hesitant to comply will have three choices—align, pay tribute, or fall."

Murmurs rippled through the room. Ethan's authority was absolute, but the world still watched, waiting to see if he would truly follow the footsteps of his predecessor.

Christiana's gaze flickered toward Chris, as if expecting him to say something. To intervene.

He didn't.

Instead, he merely leaned back in his seat, expression unreadable. This was Ethan's decision. His path to walk.

Classic stepped forward. "We will begin negotiations immediately, but if necessary, force will not be off the table."

Ethan nodded in approval, then turned to Christiana. "You will ensure compliance in all matters. Any internal resistance within our own territories must be eliminated before we expand further."

Christiana smirked. "Understood."

Silence settled once again, heavy with expectation.

Chris finally spoke, his voice low but resonating through the chamber. "The world is watching, Ethan. Make sure they see what you want them to see."

Ethan met his gaze, unwavering. "They will."

For the first time, Chris saw it—the weight of the crown settling fully on Ethan's shoulders.

His reign had truly begun.