Somewhere else.
Far from the ruins.
Far from the two monsters.
The Royal City — Kingdom of the Red Emerald
The walls rose first.
They were not ordinary walls.
They were massive barriers made of dark red stone, polished with ancient blood that had dried centuries ago and became part of the structure itself. Every stone carried the mark of a sacrifice. Every crack was a silent record of an age of organized killing.
The city does not sleep.
Not because it is alive,
but because it is afraid.
Tall towers glowed with a faint red light, coming from blood torches that were not fed by oil, but by vital extracts taken from creatures imprisoned for that purpose. Even the air was filled with the smell of iron.
Here, blood is neither forbidden
nor sacred.
It is a currency of rule.
At the heart of the city
rose the Red Palace.
The Red Palace
It was not beautiful.
And that was intentional.
It was built to intimidate, not to impress.
Massive pillars like the fangs of a predator were driven into the ground. Low domes gave a sense of weight. The inner ceilings were set with dark crystal stones that reflected light like watching eyes.
The floors
were not stone.
They were a composite material made of crystallized blood. Every step produced a faint echo, as if the palace remembered everyone who had walked upon it.
At the highest hall,
the Throne Hall.
The king sat there.
King Korval the Third
King of the Kingdom of the Red Emerald
He was not large,
and not frail.
He was balanced, in a disturbing way.
His hair was black with strands of silver. His eyes were red but without glow, as if the blood within them had learned obedience. His body was covered by light royal armor, not for protection, but as a reminder.
The throne itself was not very high.
Korval did not like to look down on others.
He preferred to look directly into their eyes.
To his right stood the Grand Advisor Valmerk.
A thin man, his skin pale as if he had not seen the sun for years. His fingers were long, each wearing a blood ring engraved with a different spell. His left eye was missing, replaced by a pulsing red crystal.
To his left stood Commander Serith,
leader of the Royal Legion. Her armor was covered with real scars, not decoration. Her sword was not removed, even in the king's presence. Her eyes were sharp, uninterested in politics, but fully aware of its consequences.
Behind them
stood the Council of the Kingdom.
The nobles.
The powerful families.
The wealthy merchants.
The clans.
The factions.
Everyone with influence in the kingdom was present.
And all of them
were arguing.
"The eastern borders are silent," one said.
"That's not normal."
"Border cities sent distress signals… then went dark."
"It could be a rebellion."
Valmerk spoke, his voice smooth like poison:
"Or a massacre."
Silence fell.
King Korval's expression did not change.
"How many cities?" he asked.
Serith answered:
"Three confirmed.
The fourth… no response."
"Casualties?"
"No numbers.
But blood contamination is high.
Higher than any normal beast attack."
One noble said dismissively:
"Wild beasts move sometimes…"
Serith looked at him.
"They don't leave empty cities.
They leave remains.
Here… there is nothing.
This must be an open rebellion.
The real danger is if it is an organized force backed by neighboring kingdoms. That would be a problem that must be crushed immediately."
One clan leader nodded.
"Is it possible that some of our plans were leaked?"
Lin Mu replied sharply:
"Don't be an idiot. Who would betray us at a time like this?"
Another shouted, denying the accusation.
"Didar, these accusations are not baseless. It makes no sense for unrest to happen in multiple regions at the same time. Don't be foolish."
"Damn it, is this really happening at the same time we decided to take action?"
"There are certainly spies, but they are not important. They are easy to expose by feeding false information. The real problem would be traitors. That would be a completely different matter."
The arguments in the royal court grew louder, with no clear conclusion, only accusations thrown back and forth.
"Silence."
A suppressive aura erupted from King Korval.
Suddenly, a terrifying stillness filled the hall. All eyes turned toward the king sitting alone on the throne. His eyes were closed, as if deep in thought, yet a heavy royal pressure filled with years of rule and blood spread from him.
Then he spoke:
"The existence of spies is a given, and the existence of traitors is certain.
But is that really important?
All of us here have betrayed each other dozens of times.
The number of conspiracies we have plotted against one another is countless.
We have assassinated hundreds of geniuses for our own benefit.
Is it really important to talk about traitors?
In truth, mentioning traitors is completely foolish.
We all know that each of us waits for a mistake or a moment of weakness to devour the other.
After all the conspiracies between us, it would be absurd if there were no traitors."
Everyone looked at the king.
Some with shock.
Some with doubt.
Some with amusement.
In this world, there are truths, and there are lies.
And there are truths that should never be spoken, even if everyone knows them.
Yet the king before them spoke them without hesitation.
Their gazes carried hostility, hatred, and resentment.
But more than anything, they carried respect.
Yes, despite their hatred, their resentment, their envy, they could not help but admire the man before them.
He had been from the common people.
A poor, worthless man.
Trash that could be found anywhere.
What set him apart was his wild ambition, his limitless desire, and his sharp insight.
But above all, what defined him was his honesty in speaking the truth.
King Korval continued:
"In fact, I would have despised you if there were no traitors among you.
There is no need to claim there are none. I am certain all of you are traitors and conspirators.
Of course, each of us plays his cards under the table to gain the greatest profit.
But be careful not to reveal your cards.
The one whose cards are exposed has already lost the game.
And you all know that I never show mercy to losers."