Below the steps, Remont stood silently.
He looked at Kaelin, whose back seemed on the verge of collapse, tidied his cuffs, and revealed a faint smile.
It was a kind of chilling satisfaction.
Like a craftsman checking the sharpness of a blade he forged with his own hands.
Before this, Kaelin was merely a fallen prince.
And now he had publicly killed his brother, the Empire's Regent King, cutting off all retreats.
This meant he could finally be molded into the Emperor he wanted to be.
Remont slowly ascended the steps, his boots echoing steadily and rhythmically on the cold stone surface.
He came to Kaelin's side, gently pressed his trembling shoulder, as if comforting a child after a nightmare: "Well done, Your Majesty."
......
The once lively and never-dark Victory Avenue now echoed only with wind howling through the ruins.
