The fall of House Venir sent tremors through the empire's noble society.
Rumors swirled like wildfire: a magical incident? Rebellion? A royal cover-up?
What remained undeniable was this—an entire noble estate was reduced to ash, and only one heir survived.
The nobility, long bloated on the Emperor's leniency, began whispering in salons and feasting halls. The Emperor, more scholar than warrior, had ruled with restraint. They mistook his silence for weakness. And now, they sensed opportunity.
But the Emperor was no fool. He watched. He waited. And he remembered every hand that moved against him.
The execution of House Venir was taken as a challenge to the noble order—a silent declaration of war. What frightened them most wasn't the flames—but the precision.
A single noble house was erased.
A single heir was spared.
Was the royal family asserting dominance? Was this the start of a purge?
Whispers grew into fear.
"Old dogs sometimes need to be beaten .So they don't forget who holds the leash."
And Prince Isla—the Emperor's first son had every intention of putting the leash back on the nobles. House Venir was only the beginning.
The Council of Nobles was held.
In the imperial hearing hall, the Ten Noble Houses gathered.
Robes of velvet and silk. Crests etched in gold. Cloaks lined with jewels. Each noble sat behind an emblazoned sigil, basking in their inherited pride.
Their arrogance disgusted Isla.
To them, royalty was a formality. A bloodline to bow to in public and undermine in private. Many of them believed themselves to be above the throne.
They would learn otherwise.
With a loud announcement, the chamber doors opened.
The Emperor entered, flanked by the princes and Jin, the Royal Knight Commander. Their presence was thunder without sound. Even the most arrogant noble felt their lungs tighten.
The Emperor may not have been a warrior.
But his sons? They could raze an estate in a night.
And they had.
The nobles knew the rumor: Only Isla and Lucas were involved in the Venir incident. And yet, they walked out without a scratch..
The hearing began.
"An entire noble household," said Count Helbrecht, voice like cold steel. "Burned in a single night. Only the first son survives. Weird, don't you think?"
At the far end, Joshua Venir stood and bowed low.
"The fire was caused by a magical reaction. We believe rogue chimeras broke their seals in the dungeon and—"
"Dungeons?" a noble interrupted. "Richard never reported such things."
The nobles weren't here to listen. They were here to provoke.
"Convenient," muttered Duke Rhonar, stroking his beard, "that all were reduced to ash before verification."
Isla's voice rang out—measured, emotionless.
"House Venir experimented on citizens. With troll blood and human souls. Prince Lucas and I witnessed it ourselves."
Silence dropped like a guillotine.
Even if fabricated, a prince's word carried the weight of the Empire.
"…And the proof?" Duke Rhonar asked, eyes narrow.
Joshua stepped forward. He unfurled a black dossier—evidence he had once leaked to Isla in secret.
"Ledgers. Ritual notes. Forbidden mage seals. These were given to the Knight Commander before the incident."
The Duke snatched the folder. As he flipped through its contents, his face turned pale.
"…These are real. There's even mention of correspondence with the Blue Tower Master..."
Another wave of silence, heavier than the first.
The Pope of the Eternal Flame shifted forward in his seat. His eyes glinted beneath his ceremonial hood.
"This is sacrilege. Blood magic, dark rites, pacts with external forces. The Eternal Flame weeps."
The Emperor leaned back slowly in his seat, voice echoing across the chamber.
"House Venir shall be stripped of all prior titles and recognition. Joshua Venir will remain as heir, under my direct supervision. Their records and estate are now imperial property. No further inquiries will be permitted."
Several nobles stiffened. The weight of the decision sank in.
It was done.
The nobles understood now.
Their era of unchecked power was ending.
With Isla growing stronger and Lucas backing him, the throne had teeth once more.
Some families began drawing up plans—marriage alliances, political sponsorships, vassal oaths.
Others whispered rebellion.
The rest? They started counting their days.
The council moved on—to national security, trade disputes, border tensions. But the tone had changed. Fear lingered under every word.
Eventually, Lucas and Isla excused themselves.
Outside the Hall
Under the crimson banners of the palace, the two princes walked side by side, their voices low.
"Rotten to the core," Isla muttered. "Each one pretending loyal while sharpening knives."
Lucas nodded. His jaw was tight. His eyes, distant.
"They want to fracture the Empire before it can rise again."
Isla's hands clenched behind his back.
"Then we cut the rot out. Before it spreads."
His voice was firm—final.
"Whether they like it or not. We do this as princes... and as sons."
Lucas turned to look at him. "For the throne?"
"For the world," Isla said. "And the unification it deserves."