The Crown Without a Throne

The banquet had ended, but the city hadn't slept.

Word of Priyanshu's appearance at the Imperial Selection Banquet had spread like wildfire. What was meant to be an elite gathering of royal heirs turned into a night people would whisper about for years.

He wasn't a prince.He wasn't invited by blood.He wasn't even from a noble house.

But still—he walked in, sat among them, and left without kneeling once.

And now?

Everyone wanted to know who he truly was.

But no one had the answer.

Because Priyanshu Yadav didn't leave footprints.

He left shadows.

And fear.

—

In a hidden room deep beneath the Imperial Palace, three old men sat around a glowing orb. Their faces were pale, wrinkled, their eyes ancient. They were the Silent Oracles, advisors who didn't serve the emperor—but served the empire's will itself.

"He's dangerous," one of them said.

"He carries the mark," another whispered. "The second thread has awakened."

"Then we must act."

"No," said the third one. "We must observe. The third thread is still dormant. Let him gather it. Then we strike."

The others nodded.

"It's time to test his loyalty," the first said.

"Or break it."

And so, the gears of ancient fate began to move again.

—

Far from the palace, Priyanshu sat alone on the rooftop of an abandoned watchtower, the city lights flickering below.

Tanya joined him, a mug of warm tea in her hand. She handed it to him and sat beside him in silence.

"Still awake?" she asked.

"I don't sleep much these days."

"Too much on your mind?"

"Too many people pretending to be my friend."

She looked at him, her voice soft. "You think someone in the banquet was trying to trap you?"

"I don't think. I know."

Priyanshu sipped the tea.

"They poisoned the second wine bottle."

She blinked. "You didn't drink it."

"I made the prince drink it."

Her eyes widened.

"He's still alive," Priyanshu added. "But he'll feel it in his dreams."

Tanya smiled faintly. "You're cruel sometimes."

"No. I'm cautious. There's a difference."

—

The next morning, a sealed letter arrived at the Dark Heaven base.

Anaya handed it to Priyanshu in silence.

He opened it.

A black paper.

Golden ink.

One line:

"Come to the Court of Echoes at midnight. Alone. Or the third thread dies with its guardian."

Tanya leaned over his shoulder. "It's a trap."

He nodded.

"And I'm walking right into it."

"You don't have to go alone—"

"I do."

—

That night, under a sky filled with dark clouds, Priyanshu walked through the ancient streets alone. The Court of Echoes was a long-abandoned temple at the edge of the capital, known for holding the voices of the dead.

People said that if you stepped on the wrong stone, the floor would whisper your past sins.

He didn't care.

He had nothing to hide.

The temple was cracked and leaning. Statues of forgotten gods stared down with broken eyes. The air was cold, still, and heavy.

And in the center… stood a figure cloaked in white.

"You came," the man said. His voice echoed unnaturally, as if layered with hundreds of others.

"You threatened my path," Priyanshu replied. "That always gets my attention."

The man stepped closer.

"I am the Guardian of the Third Thread. But I was captured by a different power. One that fears your awakening."

"Who?"

The man raised a hand and the torches around them lit up.

Seven figures stood in a wide circle.

Each one wore black robes with golden thread.

Their masks were smooth, blank, and emotionless.

"The Oracles sent us," one of them spoke. "The bloodline you carry is unstable. If you awaken fully, the world will burn."

Priyanshu's lips curled into a cold smile.

"Then why not kill me now?"

"Because there's one last test."

A sword appeared from the shadows and landed at his feet.

"If you wish to claim the third thread, you must spill blood willingly. Not in self-defense. Not for survival. But to prove that your heart can embrace destruction."

A child stepped forward.

Blindfolded. Shackled.

A boy no older than ten.

"Kill him," the masked man said. "Or walk away and lose your chance forever."

Priyanshu stared at the child.

The boy was shaking.

Crying.

A trap.

Clearly a trap.

But not for his body.

For his mind.

His soul.

His morality.

"You think I need to kill a child to prove something?" he asked.

"No," the voice replied. "But your bloodline does. The Primordial Serpent was born from sacrifice."

The temple floor shimmered.

Images appeared—visions of ancient times. Wars. Rituals. Rivers of blood under silver moons. The original bloodline holders. All of them killers. All of them feared.

"You must choose," the masked voice said. "Mercy or power."

Priyanshu picked up the blade.

The boy whimpered.

Everyone waited.

And then…

Priyanshu slashed.

But not at the boy.

He spun and threw the blade straight into the neck of the masked speaker.

Blood sprayed.

Gasps followed.

The remaining six drew weapons.

But Priyanshu was already moving.

No hesitation.

No mercy.

Like a shadow with purpose.

He ducked under a blade, grabbed the attacker's wrist, and snapped it. Twirled. Elbow to the jaw. Step. Spin. Kick.

Three down.

Two leaped forward together.

He used the fallen body of one to absorb the first blow, then stabbed the second with their own dagger.

Five down.

The last man dropped his weapon.

"Wait!" he screamed. "You passed! It was a test!"

Priyanshu walked up and stared him in the face.

"You wanted to see if I'd kill for power?"

He raised his hand.

"I don't kill for power."

Snap.

The man collapsed, unconscious.

"I kill when people threaten it."

—

The boy stood there, frozen.

Priyanshu knelt and untied him gently.

"What's your name?"

"Raul…"

"Go home, Raul. You're free."

The boy ran.

And the temple fell into silence again.

The glowing orb above them pulsed softly.

The voice of the system rang out.

[Third Thread Awakened]

[Primordial Serpent Lineage – Phase Three Unlocked]

[New Ability: Absolute Reflection – Reflect any attack or truth back onto its origin for 3 seconds.]

Priyanshu closed his eyes.

The power wasn't just strength.

It was clarity.

Direction.

And fate.

He was done playing by the rules.

He wouldn't kneel to kings.

He wouldn't be tested like a dog.

He wasn't their villain anymore.

He was their future.

One they couldn't control.

—

As he walked away from the broken temple, Tanya and Zarek met him halfway, weapons ready.

"Are you okay?" Tanya asked.

He didn't respond.

He looked past her, at the capital skyline.

At the emperor's tower.

At the flag that had flown over their world for centuries.

And then he said quietly,

"It's time they understood what it means to crown a snake."