Chapter 39 The Summit of Kings
The grand hall of the Neutral Conclave shook with the force of raised voices and barely contained panic.
"You want to negotiate with him?!" Emperor Aldric of Eldrath slammed his fist onto the massive round table. "The man who now carries three Calamities and dismantled a sixty-year war with nothing but papers and whispers? Have you all lost your minds?"
Emperor Veyra of the Crimson Throne laughed bitterly from across the table. "Madness would be allowing him to reach the sixth marriage. We should assassinate him immediately, before he becomes untouchable."
"Assassination has already failed repeatedly," Empress Lira of the Silver Dominion said coldly. "We have lost entire companies of Husband Hunters. The man survived Mara. He ended Veth’s endless war without raising a sword. He bonded with Solis without a single battle. He is no longer a joke or a minor anomaly. He is a living catastrophe."
The seven emperors and their most trusted advisors filled the ancient hall. Tension crackled in the air. No one trusted the chairs they sat on. No one trusted the wine in their goblets. The delicate balance of power that had kept the continent stable for centuries was visibly collapsing in front of them.
King Torvald of the Iron Reach leaned forward aggressively. "Then we seal the remaining Marriage Grounds. Flood them. Collapse the ancient sites. Burn every record of their location to ash."
"Foolish," Empress Lira snapped. "Those grounds are protected by laws older than our empires combined. Destroying them might awaken forces we cannot control. Or worse, it would hand Darius the moral high ground he needs to turn the people against us."
Emperor Aldric sneered. "Moral high ground? He is stealing our divine weapons! The Calamities were created to keep us in check, not to serve one cursed exile!"
A heavy silence fell for a moment as the weight of that truth settled over the table.
Then Emperor Veyra spoke again, his voice low and dangerous. "Then we destroy the Calamities entirely. All seven of them. Before he can complete the set and turn them into his personal army."
The suggestion hung in the air like poison.
Empress Lira shook her head sharply. "The Pantheon created them as our check and balance. If we destroy them, we invite divine wrath. Or worse, we remove the only thing preventing the other empires from tearing each other apart."
King Torvald laughed without any humor. "Look around this table. The check is already gone. One man holds three of them. Three! And the remaining four are almost certainly considering joining him."
The arguments erupted again, louder and uglier than before. Old rivalries surfaced. Accusations flew across the table. No one trusted anyone. The emperors who had spent their entire lives maintaining the fragile balance of power now watched it dissolve in real time, helpless to stop it.
After hours of shouting and bitter debate, one voice finally cut through the noise.
Emperor Aldric stood slowly, his face grim. "Then we reach one unified conclusion. Darius Valeborn must die before the sixth marriage. Not after. Before. At any cost. Total mobilization. Every resource. Every assassin. Every divine favor we can beg, buy, or steal."
The other six rulers looked at each other across the table.
One by one, they nodded.
The decision was made.
Darius must die before the sixth marriage.
\~~~~
Far to the north, in a quiet forest clearing miles away from any road, Darius adjusted the strap on his pack with calm precision.
"We move faster," he said to the others. "The next Marriage Ground is still weeks away, but we cannot afford any more delays."
Veth grinned as she sharpened her axe. "Good. I was starting to get bored again."
Mara walked beside him, quiet but watchful. "You seem… more focused than usual."
Darius nodded. "We have momentum. We cannot lose it now."
Solis moved gracefully behind them, her presence still leaving faint traces of emptiness in the air around her. "They will come harder now. All of them."
Darius looked ahead down the hidden trail. "Let them come. We keep moving."
He had no idea about the exact words spoken at the emergency summit.
But he could feel the growing weight of their fear pressing down on the continent like an approaching storm.
And he was already three steps ahead of their plans.
\~~~~
Back in the grand hall of the Neutral Conclave, as the emperors prepared to leave and begin their coordinated hunt, one voice spoke the question no one wanted to answer.
Emperor Aldric paused at the massive doors and turned back to the table.
“What if the Pantheon is afraid too?”
Silence filled the chamber.
Complete. Heavy. Suffocating.
No one dared speak.
Because deep down, every single ruler in that room already knew the terrifying truth.
The gods were afraid.
And that changed everything.