1st Person POV – Lia
The sound reached me first.
A clash of steel. Shouting. The unmistakable rhythm of death in a confined hall.
I was in the council archives, finalizing reports for Chancellor Montara's next address. Then—panic. The guards outside suddenly bolted down the corridor. One of them shouted something about "blood" and "the Chancellor's wing."
My heart froze. I didn't think. I ran.
The corridors of Korvath's inner keep were long and echoing, and each turn I made brought me closer to the sound of chaos. My boots slipped on marble smeared with fresh crimson. The metallic tang of blood hit my throat before I even reached the double doors to Montara's chambers.
And when I pushed them open—
Everything stopped.
The grand office, once filled with gold drapery and ceremonial banners, had become a massacre. The Chancellor's personal guards lay scattered across the room, their armor carved open in clean, merciless lines. The walls were painted red.
And in the center of it all stood Kaito.
He wasn't hiding.
He wasn't fleeing.
He just stood there—blood dripping from his blade, eyes calm, face empty of any human warmth. Behind him, Montara's body lay slumped over his desk, the ornate chair split clean through.
"Kaito…?" My voice barely left my throat.
He turned toward me slowly, as if waking from a dream. "Lia."
"What did you do?" I took a step forward, but the stench of blood nearly made me choke. "What have you done!?"
"I ended it," he said flatly. "The rot, the lies, the man behind it all."
My vision blurred. The Chancellor was dead. Valerius Montara—Ostoria's prime minister, the man sent here to stabilize Korvath after the siege. He was supposed to be our political bridge to Dargath's reinforcements.
And now… he was gone.
"Do you realize what this means?" I shouted. "You just murdered the most powerful political envoy in the empire!"
He didn't flinch.
"He was Valerian," he said. "He orchestrated Bustleburg. The ogre attack. The raids. The experiments. Every single one of them had his mark. I found the proof."
I stared at him.
Bustleburg. That cursed name.
I wanted to deny it—to call him mad, delusional—but something in his eyes stopped me. That hollow calm wasn't rage. It was conviction.
Before I could speak, the hall behind me erupted—guards flooding in, weapons drawn. They froze at the sight before them.
The Crimson Chamber.
That's what they'd call it later.
"Drop your weapon!" one of the captains barked.
But Kaito didn't move. He only looked at me, his expression unreadable.
"I'm not running," he said quietly. "If they want to call it murder, then I'll wear it."
I stepped between him and the guards instinctively. "Wait! No one moves!"
The captain hesitated. "Commander, he killed the Chancellor—"
"I said wait!"
I turned back to Kaito, forcing my voice to steady even as my heart pounded. "Do you have proof? Any of this—can you prove it?"
His hand tightened around the hilt of his sword… then released it. The weapon clattered to the floor, slick with blood.
"In my quarters," he said. "Coded letters. Plans for a Valerian strike. He was going to open Korvath's gates once we rebuilt enough to trust him."
My mouth went dry.
The words hit me like arrows.
He stepped forward until he stood directly before me—close enough that I could see the faint tremor in his bloodstained fingers. "You always said justice should come through order. That's why I never told you. But sometimes order is just another kind of chain."
I didn't know whether to scream or cry.
The guards began to advance again, the tension snapping like a drawn bowstring. I raised a hand, voice shaking. "Stand down. He's surrendering."
Kaito looked at me one last time. There was no remorse—only exhaustion. "This isn't over, Lia. You'll see soon enough."
He held out his wrists. The guards shackled him, iron links clicking shut. He didn't resist.
As they led him away, I stood frozen in the doorway, watching him disappear into the rain-slick courtyard. The smell of blood and smoke lingered long after he was gone.
---
By noon, word had already spread across Korvath.
The Demonblade killed the Chancellor.
The Demonblade avenged the people.
The Demonblade has betrayed the realm.
The city fractured overnight. Half called for his execution. The other half began shouting his name in the streets, raising their blades in salute.
Korvath—already broken—was beginning to tear itself apart.
I returned to my quarters hours later, drenched, trembling, the echoes of screams outside my window. Every piece of parchment, every report, every speech Montara ever gave suddenly felt poisonous in my hands.
And through it all, one truth gnawed at me:
Kaito wasn't lying.
I saw it in his eyes.
He believed every word.
The question was—
Had justice truly been done tonight?
Or had we just buried it beneath a pile of bodies?