Chapter 47 – Floor 5, Part III: The Crownless Boy

The Grand Forum was silent. The kind of silence that weighed heavier than stone and more ancient than dust. Ankit stood at the foot of the throne, his fingers still tingling from the boy's gaze.

Behind him, the rest of Blackhunt fanned out, eyes scanning the ruins for movement. But nothing stirred. Not the air, not the banners. Even the torches embedded in the cracked walls burned without flickering, as if time itself had paused.

Riya whispered, "That wasn't just an echo, was it?"

Toni stepped beside Ankit, his face pale. "No. That was a sentient memory fragment. Possibly the final heir… or what's left of him."

Ankit didn't respond. He kept staring at the throne—the crystal seat shattered across the back like someone had slammed a weapon into it. But what struck him wasn't its destruction.

It was the emptiness.

There was no blood. No crown. No body.

Just absence.

Kaido ran his fingers along the base of the dais, frowning. "This place isn't just a ruin. It's a question."

Vikram clicked his tongue. "And the answer probably wants to kill us."

They didn't have to wait long.

The air fractured, rippling outward like a stone dropped into a still pond. A circular barrier sealed the group inside the Forum. And standing atop the throne now was the boy once again—eyes hollow, crown flickering in and out like a failing illusion.

Then the projection stepped down, slowly, and when his feet touched the floor, he wasn't a boy anymore.

He was a warrior.

His robes had become armor. His crown became thorns. His weapon was a double-edged glaive humming with residual emotion.

"I was once the heir," he said softly. "But when I hesitated… they all died."

Raghav raised his weapon, tension crackling. "He's a memory construct. You heard what the Tower said. Threat level A."

But the boy didn't strike.

Instead, he asked, "Would you hold power… if it meant watching your people destroy themselves?"

Ankit stepped forward.

"No," he said. "I wouldn't hold it. I'd share it."

The warrior looked up at him, and smiled—not cruelly, but like someone remembering warmth after a long winter.

"Then let's see if you're stronger than I was."

The battle began with no signal.

He moved like light. A slash of his glaive tore stone from the ground and launched it like cannon fire. Kaido barely erected a gravity field in time to catch the debris. Vikram hurled an explosive talisman but the echo sliced through the energy mid-air.

Riya conjured frost across the ground, trying to limit his movement, but it only slowed him by a breath. That breath was enough for Ankit to dash forward, his twin Talwars lighting with deep red flame.

They clashed.

Not once. Not twice. But twelve times in the span of seconds.

Steel rang like bells across a battlefield that no longer existed.

The echo smiled again. "Good form. Who trained you?"

"Pain," Ankit answered.

The echo's form flickered. He raised his hand and the throne behind him pulsed.

Pillars rose from the ground around them—ghostly images of soldiers, scholars, and children. All shadows. All watching.

Asha muttered, "He's summoning the witnesses of his fall."

Sana reinforced the group with a soul-boosting barrier. Raunak held the outer line, drawing symbols into the ground to prepare a trap.

The echo fought with elegance, but also sadness. Each move felt like a reenactment of loss. His weapon screamed more in regret than rage.

Toni, analyzing, called out, "He's bound by emotion memory! If we weaken his emotional anchor, he'll destabilize!"

Ankit paused during a brief clash. "What's his anchor?"

Toni didn't hesitate. "Guilt."

Riya conjured a mirage—a vision of the city alive, thriving. The echo's movements stuttered.

Raunak activated his seal. Chains of red light latched onto the echo's arms.

"Do you think you can save what I could not?" the echo asked.

Ankit didn't answer with words.

He moved.

His Talwars blurred. The ground cracked. His flame turned azure.

Three steps.

One upward slash.

One spinning cut.

The final strike wasn't aimed at the echo's body.

It was aimed at the throne.

The blow shattered the remains of the crystal seat completely.

The echo gasped.

And smiled.

For real, this time.

"I see," he whispered. "You're not here to replace me… You're here to free me."

The glaive dropped from his hands and faded.

Then, so did he.

Light filled the Forum.

One by one, the pillars of memory dissolved. The watchers vanished. The throne's base crumbled to ash. Only silence remained—this time gentle, not haunting.

The system window appeared before them.

[Legacy Trial: Crownless Path – Complete]

Title Earned: Breaker of Echoes

Special Reward: Soul Glaive of Sol'Thar (Unbound – Storage Only)

Emotion Trait Gained: Guilt Immunity

Bonus: Memory Sight – Grants ability to view one random memory of enemy per day

Bond Progression: Team Affinity Increased

Floor Progression: 70%

Everyone stood in silence.

Then Vikram broke it. "He was just a kid."

Toni nodded. "And a king."

Kaido crouched beside the remains of the throne. "Do you think the Tower let him go?"

Ankit looked up at the cracked moon still hanging in the sky.

"No," he said. "I think… we did."

As they made their way deeper into the city's heart, where the Imperial Vaults were rumored to lie, none of them spoke for a long time.

Not out of fear.

But respect.

For the one who once sat where no one else dared to.

And for what it meant to choose to walk forward—without a crown.