CHAPTER 84: THE END OF ASHBURN

[: 3rd POV :]

The echoes of what should have been a celebration still lingered faintly in the halls, but it was full with tenses.

There was no joy in the gilded halls, no warmth in the radiant chandeliers.

The only thought that was on Melira’s mind was nothing but burning vengeance.

After hours of the supposed celebration’s had end, she began a continent-wide investigation that stretched into every shadowed corner of the land.

Her agents moved with the precision of assassins and the relentlessness of storms.

Hidden routes, secret trading posts, smugglers’ dens, and even corrupt local officials were traced, interrogated, and exposed.

Every fragment of information, every whisper, every crumb of truth was pulled together like pieces of a monstrous puzzle.

Word of her relentless pursuit spread quickly.

Before long, the rulers of the continent themselves approached, not by her command, but of their own volition, recognising the gravity of the situation.

"Empress Melira," Thrain, the Dwarf King, said with solemnity, his eyes reflecting an almost paternal respect.

"Whatever resources, manpower, or intelligence you require—consider it at your disposal. The matter of your son... it concerns all of us."

Sylthara, the Dragon Empress, stepped forward, her scaled wings folding with imperceptible grace.

Her eyes, usually unreadable and regal, softened.

"The loss of your child has affected my daughter directly. You have our unwavering support"

Melira inclined her head, a subtle, cold acknowledgement.

Her violet eyes, however, burned with quiet fury that no words could contain.

"I appreciate it’’ she said softly, her voice measured yet heavy with the weight of unspoken wrath.

Weeks had passed.

Every day her anticipation coiled tighter around her heart, her fury simmering beneath the surface.

And finally, the time came.

The Black Pirate slave merchant leader—the man responsible for her son’s suffering and the torment of countless innocents—was brought before her.

Chains clanged against the stone floor as he was dragged forward, sweat streaking his pallid face.

His previous arrogance dissolved into pure terror.

Melira approached, her steps deliberate, each one echoing like a drumbeat of impending judgment.

Her violet eyes locked onto his, flaring with controlled violence.

"You," she hissed, voice low and lethal, "will tell me the truth"

"I—I’ll tell you anything! Please, Empress, I beg!" he stammered, voice cracking under the weight of guilt.

"Whose orders?" she demanded, her tone sharp, violet flames of fury dancing in her gaze.

"Who did you enslave my son to?"

The man’s lips quivered.

Sweat dripped from his temples as he struggled to form words.

The silence stretched until he finally gasped, his voice barely audible.

"The... Ashburn... Family... they... they bought your son..."

The words struck Melira like a blade to the chest.

Her hands clenched, chains rattling under her grip, her aura flaring violently.

A suffocating wave of wrath radiated from her, consuming the space around her.

"The Ashburns..." she whispered, voice low, barely restrained but dripping with venom.

"They dared touch my child..."

Maiya’s blade gleamed at her side, silent but alive with promise.

The man’s eyes widened in realisation—this was no mere interrogation.

This was the prelude to retribution.

Melira’s voice cut through the tension, sharp and unforgiving.

"Now...why did you torture my son...?’’

The leader sank to his knees, trembling. "P-Please... spare me...’’

Melira’s laugh was low, chilling.

"Spare you? There is no mercy for those who touch my child"

"And the Ashburns... they will feel the full weight of my wrath."

The air thickened, trembling with the tension of a storm barely contained.

Melira’s eyes, violet as molten amethyst, flared brighter, a tempest of fury and grief simmering beneath the surface.

"Luke! Victor!" she commanded, her voice a whip-crack across the chamber.

"Arrest every member of the Ashburn Families—maid, butler, heir—every last one! None are are to be spared!"

Luke and Victor bowed sharply, moving with immediate precision, and they disappeared.

Within minutes of her orders, guards swarmed the Ashburn estates like shadows, their every movement executed with unerring obedience.

"W-What’s going on!? D-Do you know who I am!?" One of them retaliated, only to be pulled by one Melira’s trusted soldiers.

"Silence! All you are arrested for the crime of making the Prince a slave!"

Without any hesitation, all of them chained and arrested each of Ashburn Families including those that are working under them.

As Melira dug deeper, interrogating the trembling merchant further, a horrifying truth emerged.

Her son, Daniel, along with Caelira, Rika, Manork, and Kael, had suffered at the hands of the Ashburns for years.

The merchant’s voice trembled as he recounted their torment.

The heir of the family—long dead, yet remembered in infamy—had been cruel beyond measure.

Even the Head of the Family had taken part, leaving scars of anguish that would never fade.

Melira’s hands tightened on the necklace, her knuckles white, as the rage within her coalesced into something almost tangible.

She turned her gaze to the Ashburn patriarch, who had been captured amid the chaos.

All of the Ashburn’s are now brought upon her, waiting for their retribution.

The man’s eyes widened in a flash of recognition and terror.

"Your... your..." he stammered, voice shaking, lips quivering.

Melira did not answer with words.

She stepped forward, her aura igniting like wildfire.

The heat alone was enough to singe the air, her power radiating with the intensity of a continent-wide storm contained within a single body.

And then it happened.

The head of the Ashburn Family—once proud, untouchable—burned before her, consumed in flames so fierce that nothing remained.

Not a mark, not a trace, not even ash.

Only the searing reminder of her wrath lingered, a testament to the price of touching her child.

It was truly funny that the Head of the Ashburn whose known for his fire abilities was burned to death by a fire.

Her violet eyes, blazing with fury and grief, swept across the room.

"Let this be known," she whispered, voice cold yet resonant with authority, "my son, my family, and those I love will never be harmed again. And those who dared... will pay in full."

The room fell silent.

Above all of this, Melira’s heart, though burning with fury, clung to a single, fragile spark of hope.

The ashes of the Ashburn patriarch still smouldered in the centre of the room, a bitter, suffocating reminder of Melira’s wrath.

Yet even as the last ember died, her gaze did not soften.

Her fury, though momentarily sated, was far from quenched.

The trembling family members, now exposed and shamed, stared at her with a mixture of fear and disbelief.

The once-proud Ashburn noble houses had been stripped bare—titles revoked, wealth confiscated, their influence evaporated like smoke.

But Melira did not stop there.

"You will not walk free," she declared, her voice cutting through the thick air like a drawn blade.

"Nobility is earned, and you have long forfeited the right to carry it’’

’’You are no longer Ashburns in any honorific sense. All of you are criminals"

The room fell into a shuddering silence, broken only by the occasional stifled sob of those who had once believed themselves untouchable.

"I will not grant you mercy. Not for what you did to my son, nor to those who suffered under your hands. You will be... experimented."

Her words, deliberate and precise, sent a fresh wave of terror through the Ashburn remnants.

The merchant, still chained, gulped audibly. ’’E-Experimented? Empress... we...-"

Melira’s violet eyes flared, and the space around her seemed to tighten, heavy with unspoken power.

"You are guilty. You have harmed innocents, and my laws do not bend for arrogance, wealth, or pride’’

’’The research department will ensure that your suffering serves as a lesson"

Her hands clenched, the necklace of Daniel pressed close to her chest, a silent talisman of her undying resolve.

The Ashburn women and men writhed, pleading silently, but Melira did not flinch.

Even as they were dragged toward the designated research facilities, her voice echoed after them.

"All of you deserves no mercy"

Yet, beneath the storm of vengeance and the gleaming rage in her eyes, a colder, sharper purpose guided her.

The Ashburns’ fate, cruel as it was, was not her ultimate goal.

Melira straightened, her aura settling into a tense, controlled storm.

The room, now silent but for the shuffling of guards, seemed to breathe with her intent.

"This is just a strp," she murmured to herself, the whisper lost amidst the echoes of terror.

"My son... I will find you"

Her eyes, violet and blazing, scanned the maps, reports, and intelligence reports amassed by her continent-wide network.

Every thread, every fragment of information, was analysed, pieced together with unrelenting precision.

Nothing would escape her attention.

The room remained tense, aware that the Empress had shifted from vengeance to obsession.

The Ashburns were gone, yet the storm of her wrath and hope now coalesced around a singular, piercing goal: finding her son.

All that mattered now was her son, and Melira’s resolve to tear the world apart if that was what it would take to see him safe again.