Chapter 285 Chapter 285
Xenon stood tall as the sun rose fully behind him, authority radiating off him.
"This is just the beginning... " He added, glancing at the were tiger soldiers that stood. "We are heading to the capital and rounding up the miscreants that supported this imposter that supported this bastard." He said, dangling Dorian in front of them.
"To victory!" He cried, raising a fist into the air.
"To victory!!" They cried back, their voice resonating through the air.
He had won.
The throne was his again.
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After gathering all the werewolf soldiers that had submitted, Xenon and his men marched into the capital, ready to deliver retribution. Though he was shocked at the state of things there, he managed to keep a calm expression, giving orders to his men to fetch and capture any corrupt noble who had supported Dorian's reign.
Another strange occurrence ensued. The majority of the commoners were happy to have him back. Little children, all thin and malnourished, ran alongside his procession, grinning with all their teeth and shaking handkerchiefs into the air.
The look of relief on the older people's faces as he and his men marched into the streets—the way they sang and cheered—it was more than clear that they had been hoping for salvation.
Life had been cruel to them these past seven years. Xenon felt the weight of it pressing against his chest, heavy and suffocating. Never in his life had he received such a welcome—raw, desperate, unfiltered.
How bad had things truly become?
The palace was the final stop.
Xenon exercised a serious purge there, executing every werewolf lord that had hidden there, soldiers that refused to bend the knee.
It was like the first time when he staged a coup to take over the kingdom, except this time it was bloodier. Xenon truly showed no mercy. His ruthlessness was for all to see, whether they approved of it or not. He was done playing nice for favors.
The great cleansing had begun.
Sundown had arrived when Xenon finally called for the actions to cease. Thousands of corrupt werewolf nobles bent on their knees, chained together like slaves and paraded for everyone to see.
The remaining civilians had gathered, first to mock the nobles as their day of retribution arrived, and finally to thank and sing praises to Xenon for returning from the dead.
Xenon stood with his men, watching as the people chanted choruses, their cries of relief and happiness evident in their voices.
Many fell to their knees out of respect, and some tried to reach for him to assure themselves that he was truly in their midst, but his soldiers prevented that.
“Thanks be to the gods for returning!” so many people cried, relief etched on those gaunt, pallid faces.
Xenon cleared his throat, raising a hand.
The cheers died down to low murmurs, faces expectant as they waited for him to speak.
“I wasn’t expecting this welcome, or any at all. But that isn’t to say I am not delighted by it."
“The years have proven to you the rulers that cared and the ones that didn’t. They have separated the wheat from the chaff. The veil that covered your eyes has been pulled away."
“However, despite your happiness at seeing me return, things are not going to return to the way they were.
“For decades, I tried to be civil. I thought to myself that if I gave you more time, you would realize I had nothing but good intentions, and that despite the rough past I had, you would all come to accept me. Instead, you asked for my head the first chance you got.”
Winces and gasps filled the air, the look of regret on their faces. If only they could all go back in time.
“Now, I will be doing things on my own terms,” he continued, his voice gaining momentum as he spoke. “That’s not to say I won’t be a good ruler to you all—I have an obligation to do that. But I will be selfish.
“No more will I spread myself every which way. No more will I break my back to please you all. When I say a thing, it shall stand whether you like it or not. You will submit if you want to guarantee your stay in this realm. If you aren’t comfortable with my terms, you’re free to object and join the cowards kneeling in front of you!”
No one made a sound. They didn’t even object. They were too eager to follow him, ready to end their suffering.
“We will serve you, Your Majesty!” someone cried out, and the rest chorused their response. “You are our one true leader. A true king!”
Everybody cheered, sounds of jubilation filling the space.
Xenon watched, pinching himself lightly to be sure this wasn’t a dream. Someone handed him the crown.
It was heavier than he remembered.
Cold metal pressed into his palms as his fingers traced the jagged edges and embedded gems. Emotion clogged his throat, sharp and unexpected.
He took a deep, steadying breath and slowly placed it on his head.
“Long live the king! Long live the king! Long live the king!” everyone chanted, werewolves and weretigers alike.
Xenon glanced toward the horizon, and for a fleeting moment, the noise faded, replaced by a single thought.
Rayena.
If only she could see this.
He watched as the last light of day bled into night.
It’s only a matter of time.
You’ll be here soon.
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The news of Xenon’s victory reached the underground fortress weeks later. Rayena was with Soraya, passing the time with some embroidery, when the informant ran into the fortress, delivering the announcement in a loud voice.
“The king has won!” he shouted, his voice echoing off stone. “The King has reclaimed the throne!”
For a heartbeat, there was silence.
Then the cavern erupted.
Cheers of jubilation broke out instantly, and people began singing and dancing. Some even broke into tears, relief filling their faces.
Soraya gasped, her embroidery slipping from her fingers. “Wow… Xenon really did do it!” she cried, throwing her arms around Rayena.
“I had no doubt about that,” Rayena said in a cool voice as she pulled away, but her body trembled with happiness and relief. “I’m so glad he’s taken back what was his,” she added, a hint of pride in her voice.
“That means we’ll be getting out of here soon,” Soraya said, a huge smile on her face as she watched the celebrating people in front of her.
“Indeed. And that’s a good thing too. I can’t wait to feel the sun on my skin,” Rayena said, excitement filling her voice.
They both giggled, putting their embroidery away as the weretiger people came closer, crowding around Rayena and thanking her for bringing the king back to them.
Rayena smiled from ear to ear, overwhelmed by the blatant display of love and affection. The weretigers had become more cordial with her since their king’s return from feral madness, and they now believed, more than ever, that she was indeed his mate.