Chapter 111 Divided

Chapter 111 Divided

The ancient voice faded, but its weight remained inside the chamber like an invisible hand pressing against every soul. No one moved. Even the guards who still held their weapons seemed afraid to breathe, their eyes fixed on the golden throne and the man standing beside it.

Caius slowly turned in a circle, studying every face before him. The shock that had frozen him moments ago disappeared behind the cold smile he had worn for years. His grip tightened around the hilt of his sword, and when he finally spoke, his voice carried across the hall with practiced authority.

"Have you all lost your minds?" he demanded. "One strange display of magic is enough to make you forget everything you know? Are you truly prepared to throw this kingdom into chaos because of a voice no one can explain?"

His words lingered in the silence. Several nobles lowered their heads instead of looking toward the throne, while others shifted uneasily where they stood. The certainty that had filled the chamber only moments ago began to crack beneath the weight of doubt.

"The rite failed," one elder whispered.

"It did not fail," Caius replied sharply. "It was interrupted."

His gaze settled on me with naked hatred. "This traitor forced his blood upon the throne before the ceremony was complete. Whatever happened afterward was nothing more than a corruption of sacred law. You all witnessed it with your own eyes."

The accusation spread through the crowd like a spark landing in dry grass. Quiet voices rose from every corner of the chamber as nobles exchanged uncertain glances. Some looked toward me with suspicion, while others stared at the glowing throne as though searching for answers only it could provide.

One of the younger lords stepped forward, his face pale beneath his silver hair. "But... the throne rejected the Blood Vessel," he said carefully. "We all saw it shatter."

Caius's eyes snapped toward him.

"And are you now an elder?" he asked coldly. "Have you spent centuries studying the sacred rites, or have you suddenly become wiser than every ruler who came before us?"

The young lord's confidence disappeared at once. He lowered his head and retreated into the crowd without another word. Around him, several nobles who had seemed ready to speak decided silence was the safer choice.

A captain of the royal guard glanced toward Darius before looking back at the throne. "Commander..." he said quietly. "What are your orders?"

Every eye shifted to Darius.

He stood motionless between the throne and the crowd, his sword still in his hand but lowered toward the floor. His eyes remained fixed on the glowing runes, and for the first time since I had returned home, uncertainty had replaced the unwavering conviction that had guided him.

Before Darius could answer, Caius raised his voice again.

"The command is mine," he declared. "I am the crowned heir of this kingdom, chosen by the council and acknowledged by every noble standing in this chamber. Until that changes, my word is law."

His gaze swept across the guards one by one. "Any soldier who refuses my command will be remembered as a traitor. Your families will lose their titles. Your estates will be seized. Your bloodlines will answer for your betrayal."

The threat struck harder than any sword.

Several guards who had lowered their weapons slowly tightened their grips once more. Their expressions revealed no hatred toward me, only fear for those waiting for them beyond the castle walls. None of them wanted their wives, children, or aging parents to suffer because of the choice they made today.

Among the nobles, the same fear spread with frightening speed. Some who had stared at the throne in wonder only moments ago now avoided looking at it altogether. They understood what Caius was offering them. Safety lay behind obedience, while justice carried a price few were willing to pay.

"He speaks the truth," Lord Varick said as he stepped forward from the gathering. "Whatever miracle we have witnessed, the kingdom cannot survive without order. We cannot abandon the crown because of an unexplained sign."

Several nobles nodded in agreement.

"If the throne has truly chosen another heir," Lady Serena added carefully, "then the council can investigate after peace has been restored. We should not decide the fate of the kingdom while standing in the middle of a battlefield."

Their words gave others the courage to hide behind reason instead of conviction. One after another, voices rose in support of delaying the truth, each argument sounding wiser than the last. Fear disguised itself as caution until many in the chamber almost believed they were the same thing.

Then another voice broke through the crowd.

"No."

The single word carried more strength than the dozens that had come before it.

An elderly duke stepped away from the nobles and removed the ceremonial chain resting across his shoulders. His hands trembled with age, but his eyes remained steady as he looked first at Caius, then at the throne glowing with golden light.

"I served your grandfather," he said. "I stood in this very chamber when he spoke of the old prophecies. He told us that if the throne ever awakened again, no king, no elder, and no council would have the authority to deny its choice."

The chamber fell silent once more.

The old duke slowly dropped to one knee before the throne.

"My loyalty has always belonged to the true ruler of this kingdom," he said, bowing his head. "Not to the man who merely wears the crown."

His action shattered the fragile balance inside the hall.

Another noble stepped forward and knelt beside him. Then another followed. A few of the royal guards lowered their swords completely before sinking to one knee, unable to ignore what they had witnessed with their own eyes.

Others remained standing.

Their faces were filled with conflict as they looked from the kneeling nobles to Caius, whose expression had darkened with every passing heartbeat. They believed the throne had spoken, yet they feared the punishment that would follow if they acknowledged it.

Caius laughed, though there was no humor in the sound.

"So this is what loyalty is worth," he said quietly. "A flash of golden light, and centuries of oaths become meaningless."

His smile vanished.

"Very well."

His eyes swept across every noble and every guard who had bent the knee.

"I know every face standing against me today," he said. "When this rebellion ends, your houses will burn, your lands will belong to the crown, and every member of your bloodline will beg for a mercy that will never come."

No one answered him.

Some of those kneeling visibly trembled, and a few standing nearby closed their eyes as though praying they had chosen the right side. The chamber had divided itself without another sword being drawn, and everyone present understood that there would be no returning to what had existed before this day.