CHAPTER 119: PRAY YOUR FATE IS MERCIFUL

The doors of the throne room swung open with a deep groan, their engraved surfaces gleaming faintly in the torchlight.

Osiris Lawless stepped inside with the heavy gait of a man who thought he could do no wrong.

His red cloak trailed behind him like spilled blood on the white stone floor.

The hall was almost empty, except for two men. The King of Camelot, Cillian, seated upon his high throne with a face that looked like it had been carved of cold marble, and High Magus Edric, standing silently at the king’s right.

Osiris advanced halfway across the polished floor before dropping to one knee. "Your Majesty."

Cillian did not answer at once. His eyes were icy, locked on the man kneeling before him. When his voice finally cut through the silence, it was chilly enough to elicit a shiver.

"Osiris Lawless. You kept an academy student in chains for three months. Explain to me why."

Osiris raised his head slightly, confusion flashing for a moment in his expression. He had expected questions about the hybrid, not the boy.

"Your Majesty, Noah Webb was the only thread that led us to the perpetrators. Every witness put him near the missing girl, Juniper Rowe. His inability to account for his presence during that day suggested he was hiding something."

The king leaned forward, his knuckles whitening against the armrest of his throne. His voice thundered across the chamber.

"And how did that thread turn out? Tell me, Osiris. Did you pull it and find those responsible? Did you catch them? Or did you waste three months tormenting a boy while the true monsters walked free?"

Osiris’ jaw clenched. He didn’t like being questioned, even if that person was the king. But because it was the king, he could do nothing about it.

"The boy resisted, your majesty. Far beyond what was normal. I was certain that meant—"

"Certain?" Cillian snapped, cutting him off. His fury rippled through the air, a king’s wrath heavy as iron chains.

"I leave the capital for the warfront, and in my absence this city devolves into chaos. A human-demon hybrid slaughtered our people in the marketplace. Dozens dead, soldiers wounded, panic in the streets."

"And what was my great Investigation Authority doing?" His eyes narrowed, pinning Osiris in place. "Breaking an innocent academy student!"

Osiris lifted his chin calmly. "Your Majesty, the perpetrators behind the hybrid’s creation have gone quiet. My agents scour the city even now. When they resurface, I will—"

"You will do nothing," Cillian growled. He rose from the throne, his cloak falling in heavy folds. "I am done with excuses. Done with promises of progress that never comes. You had your chance, Osiris, and you failed me."

Osiris frowned as if he could not believe what he was hearing.

Cillian’s next sentence was delivered with lethal calm. "From this moment, you are stripped of command of the Investigation Authority."

Osiris’ eyes twitched, a flicker of disbelief flashing through them. His authority, his power, ripped away with a single sentence. "Your Majesty—"

"I am appointing Lord Rowe in your place."

Osiris surged to his feet, fists clenched. "That would be unwise. Lord Rowe’s grief clouds his judgment. He will—"

"Channel that grief into hunting those who murdered his daughter," Cillian cut in coldly.

"His rage will not blind him. It will make him more effective. He will stop at nothing until the perpetrators are dragged from whatever holes they hide in. That is the kind of fire I need at the head of the Authority."

Osiris’ jaw worked silently. Rage threatened to spill out of him, but he forced it back. To speak further would be treason. His voice came out low, bitter. "And what of me, sire?"

Cillian’s gaze was like a blade pressed against his throat. "I have not yet decided. Pray that when I do, your fate is merciful."

With a clenched jaw and a stiff bow, Osiris turned on his heel and left the throne room, his boots echoing across the stone like a funeral march.

The silence that followed was broken only by Edric’s soft exhale. The High Magus’ eyes followed Osiris until the doors slammed shut behind him.

"You stripped him of his command, but did not condemn him. What will you do with him, Cillian?"

The king’s eyes did not leave the doors. "I will decide when the time is right. For now, Rowe will have his chance. Perhaps vengeance will drive him further than reason ever could."

Edric inclined his head, but his tone was cautious. "And if they do find the ones responsible? If we discover how the hybrid was made, what then?"

Cillian’s gaze shifted slowly, locking onto the High Magus. "Then I will destroy them. Root and stem. Every last one of them."

Edric’s expression did not change, but his words carried weight. "What if, instead of destroying them, we studied them?"

"The hybrid fought like a lower Arch Demon, did it not? What if such creatures could be turned to our side? What if the blood of demons could reduce the endless casualties our soldiers suffer at the warfront?"

For the first time, the king’s mask cracked. Disgust flared across his features. "You would taint our people with that filth? Make monsters of men?"

Edric’s voice was steady and calm as still water. "I would make weapons, Cillian. Weapons to end this war faster. We bleed every day. You have seen it. If we could craft beings like that girl, sanity intact, perhaps we could—"

"No." The king’s voice was iron. "Camelot will never stoop to such depravity. I will not sacrifice the soul of humanity for victory. Better to fight and bleed for a hundred years than win by becoming what we hate."

Edric sighed softly, bowing his head. "As you command, sire."

Cillian paced, his steps echoing across the hall. His eyes burned with conviction. "We no longer need such foul experiments. We have Noah Webb. An SSS-ranked potential, hidden beneath our noses."

"He will rise. He will be the sword that cuts the demons back to the abyss. With him, this war will end in years, not decades."

His hand clenched around the hilt of the sword at his side. "The Demons will be driven back into the abyss. The world will remember Camelot as the kingdom that saved humanity. That is the only legacy I will allow."

Edric raised his gaze, studying the king carefully. There was conviction in Cillian’s voice, but also something harder. A ruthlessness that would not hesitate to break anyone who stood in his way.

The High Magus inclined his head again, his voice low. "Then let us pray that the boy does not break beneath the weight you intend to put upon him."

Cillian’s eyes darkened. "He will not. He cannot. The fate of the world demands it."