Episode 18: The Web of Fate
In the imperial capital of Pontania, Prince Mercar of the Rob Empire stood with his lustrous golden hair neatly tied back, clad in ornate ceremonial robes that showcased his matured stature. His sharpened features and upright posture now fully embodied the dignity befitting an imperial prince.
The Agrophon Banquet – one of the royal family's most significant annual events – gathered nobles from House Agrophon, high-ranking senators, and military commanders. Crown Prince Hojo de Agrophon, Mercar's elder brother, already held court atop the dais, exchanging formalities with attendees in turn.
Though Mercar loathed such public functions, attendance was unavoidable. Behind him stood Eugenia, motionless as a stone guardian. Despite his efforts to remain inconspicuous in a corner, nobles persistently approached to pay respects, nearly all presenting their daughters.
"Eugenia. Can't we leave soon?" Mercar whispered after dismissing another noble.
"His Imperial Majesty has yet to appear."
"He's always late," Mercar sighed.
"Just a while longer."
As weariness set in, a familiar figure approached. Mercar's face hardened instantly.
"Your Highness Prince Mercar. I trust you've been well?"
"Councillor Montecorato. It's been some time."
The corpulent councillor bowed deeply, his sly smile stretching beneath cheeks as thick as his girth. "We've missed your presence at the Colosseum. The games demand such attention these days..."
"No need for forced courtesies. Your absence doesn't trouble me."
"Your magnanimity honors me." Montecorato maintained his obsequious grin, ignoring Mercar's icy tone.
"Magnanimity? Don't flatter yourself," Mercar muttered, turning away.
"What of the Triphoras Knights? Will they rot in the mines forever?"
"Considering their role in the Pallemon slave revolt, exile is mercy. The Emperor's decision stays."
Montecorato's eyes gleamed. "Speaking of the Colosseum – have you heard? His Majesty plans a fifteen-day festival there in three months' time. Grander than any before."
"I'm aware. Another slaughterhouse spectacle."
"Their deaths bring joy to millions. What greater glory?"
"Do the slaughtered share that view?"
Montecorato answered only with a serpent's smile until an attendant's whisper prompted his departure. "Preparations await. Glory to the Rob Empire."
"Your dedication is... noted." Mercar watched the councillor leave, contempt etching his features. "When the Colosseum falls, your head will roll beside its rubble."
As war expanded the empire's borders, the Colosseum's influence – and Montecorato's power – soared. Mercar's dark thoughts dissipated when a silver-haired noblewoman approached, trailed by a striking girl with jet-black hair and diamond-marked forehead.
"Grand Duchess!" Mercar greeted with unusual warmth.
"Your Highness. You seem well."
"Merely avoiding the dais' scrutiny. And you?"
The Grand Duchess's modest attire contrasted with other nobles' opulence. "May I present Susanna? We adopted her after my husband raided illegal slavers last year."
"Your daughter?" Mercar arched an eyebrow. The couple were famously childless.
"Rescued from traffickers. My husband insisted – said she felt... significant. We've legalized her status."
Susanna peered from behind the Duchess's skirts, silver eyes glinting.
"A noble deed. The Duke's reforms inspire many."
"He's delayed returning – rumors of Blue Raven Gang activity in the south."
"Ever the restless reformer."
"I'd hoped he'd meet Susanna..."
"He'll return swiftly. Most 'Blue Raven' sightings prove imposters these days."
As the Duchess departed with her charge, Mercar's gaze lingered. "That girl... she reminds me of him."
"Of... Karon?" Eugenia blinked.
"Have your scouts found anything?"
"Nothing from Taber Desert's outskirts yet. If he survived..."
Their conversation died as trumpets blared. The imperial guard captain's voice thundered:
"His Imperial Majesty approaches! All maintain silence!"
Perched on a rocky outcrop, Karon and Shong surveyed endless treetops.
"Kruger Forest?"
"Eastward detour from Sveks. They're heading for Veila Port – smuggling hub." Shong tapped his rare imperial map.
Karon chewed bitter Tabe herbs, unfazed by Shong's stare. "Then we intercept."
"Assuming we survive Kruger's beasts. Leopard-like pack hunters. That's why smugglers use this route."
"Travel time?"
"Two days. Three if the forest fights back."
Karon's silence spoke volumes.
"What's that vile weed you're chewing?" Shong demanded.
Karon offered a fragment. Within minutes, Shong spat violently, cursing.
In predawn darkness, they moved like shadows. Karon's form blurred between trees, leaving no trace of passage. Even Shong – self-proclaimed master thief – marveled at his companion's preternatural stealth.
They found the camp undefended – guards dozing by dying fires.
"Not our Blue Ravens," Karon murmured. "Amateurs."
Blades drawn, they split to hunt.
Karon melted into the night, his knife catching firelight as he flowed between sentries. The forest itself seemed to breathe with him – every leaf-rustle, every insect's chirp guiding his path. Only his blade's gleam betrayed humanity in the primordial dark.
