Chương 205: The Falling of Masks

When the sun's disc reached the zenith of the sky, and though the thick gray clouds still blocked its light and cast mournful shadows over Seiron, zero hour struck. The great magical horns mounted on the palace's four towers rang out with a thunderous, terrifying sound that shook the city's very foundations and deafened the crowds gathered in the square. It was a sound intended to announce domination, not joy.

With a slowness and theatricality bordering on the grotesque, the towering wooden doors opened, carved with the historical engravings of the Williams family, leading to the vast main balcony overlooking the square. The personal honor guard emerged first: two rows of tall soldiers wearing gleaming new silver armor that caught the light despite the overcast weather, carrying lances decorated with purple ribbons. They lined the sides in rigid, mechanical discipline.

Then, with slow, calculated steps weighted with ostentatious pride, Sylvester Williams emerged from shadow into light. He wore the exceedingly long Lord's purple robe, crafted from rare mountain spider silk, embroidered with threads of pure gold forming the lion's pattern, trailing behind him for several meters as though he were dragging the entire family's history at his heel.

On his head rested a heavy crown set with blood-red ruby gems, a crown he had ordered newly forged for himself in the palace's vaults, for the family's original crown, "The Crown of the North," had disappeared along with his brother Marcus. In that moment, Sylvester appeared imposing, powerful, and overflowing with a blind confidence.

He had reached an advanced stage of delusion, he had convinced himself of his own lie, and genuinely believed himself to be the one chosen by the gods to save this city from his brother's weakness. In a shaded corner of the balcony, away from the center of attention, Supreme Inspector Croft sat on a plush velvet chair placed specifically for him.

He wore his black feathered coat, crossed one leg over the other with extreme coolness, and watched the scene with features completely rigid and neutral, as though he were watching a dull and clumsily performed comedy, knowing exactly how it would end, waiting only for the moment the curtain fell to collect the heads. Sylvester approached the white marble balustrade separating him from his people. He cast a downward look across the sea of heads, then raised both hands in a manufactured paternal gesture.

The guard responded by striking the heels of their lances against the ground, and absolute silence fell over the packed square. But as both Okon and Dex sensed, it was not the silence of respect or reverence for an awaited king, it was the silence of fear, of breathless anticipation before a predatory beast.

In that moment, the magical sound amplification crystals planted around the platform and in the square's columns were activated, making Sylvester's voice audible, powerful, and dominant in every corner and every alley of Seiron, as though it were the voice of the gods.

"People of great Seiron! Sons of the valiant and steadfast West! And loyal clan leaders who have borne the hardships!" Sylvester began his address with a resonant, moving, skillfully fabricated tone, the tone of a practiced politician. He drew his breath and allowed his voice to reverberate to the horizon.

"Today, we stand together at a decisive historical turning point. I know that hearts in your chests are wrung with pain over what we have endured, but we must make our eyes look to the future we will build together." Sylvester lowered his head and placed his hand on his chest with masterful theatrical grief, so convincing that someone who did not know him might have believed his pain.

"As you all know, today we bid farewell to an old era, an era full of sacrifices. My dear elder brother, Lord Marcus Williams, the Golden Lion who protected you for long years, has finally surrendered to the grave illness that gnawed at his body, and departed from us in peace and tranquility last night in his bed, leaving his legacy in our hands." Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

A faint and disturbed murmur passed through the crowd, like the sound of approaching waves. Some who had been outside the circle of conspiracy wept honestly for their just ruler Marcus. Others maintained silence with eyes burning with doubt given the recent bloody events. But the vast majority of the common people remained terrified, afraid of showing any reaction that might be counted against them.

Sylvester raised his head and continued, his tone growing stronger and more dramatic: "Yet would that misfortunes came one at a time to grant us space for grief! His only son, the reckless young man and family heir, Dex Williams, went out in a fit of grief to the savage wilderness, and there, the merciless forest beasts devoured him without pity. The direct bloodline of my brother has been severed. The Williams family, your storied Williams family, now faces the threat of extinction and total collapse!"

Sylvester directed his sharp gaze toward the clan leaders seated in the organized front rows, those who had secretly gathered with Dex the previous night. He searched their faces for signs of rebellion, but found nothing. He saw stone faces empty of all expression. He smiled inwardly, believing they had submitted entirely to his authority and to the accomplished fact, given that they believed Dex to be truly dead.

"But!" Sylvester shouted suddenly, in a voice that shook the crystals, raising his right hand very high toward the sky. Between his fingers rested an ancient metallic necklace bearing a massive red jewel: the Heart of Seiron, the greatest artifact, the city's magical key.

"The Williams family does not die! And the proud city of Seiron is never left without a guardian to protect it from lurking wolves! I, Sylvester Williams, bear this heavy burden upon my shoulders. I accept this crown, and I accept this responsibility, not out of greed for power or wealth, but as a pure sacrifice to protect you and protect the legacy of our ancestors!"

The moment he spoke these words, the necklace, through its interaction with his body's mana, began to glow with a pulsing red light like a living heart, reflecting a terrifying crimson radiance across his face.

"I declare myself today, before you, and before the representative of the great Empire, the sole lord of the West, the legitimate guardian of the borders, and Duke of Seiron! And with the power of this sacred necklace, I will now activate the Ancient Shield, the great defense array built by the founders, to announce formally and finally, the beginning of a new era, an era of absolute power and indomitable order!"

Sylvester closed his eyes in the intoxication of victory and power, directing all his magical energy toward the necklace, then pressed his thumb with force against the center of the red jewel to activate the dormant defense array. He was waiting to see the gray sky above the city illuminate with a brilliant red flash, a visible magical dome forming to declare his absolute legitimacy before Inspector Croft and before his frightened people. But, a second passed. Then two seconds. Nothing happened.

The sky continued its mournful gray. The dome did not appear, and the earth did not tremble. Sylvester opened his eyes quickly and looked at the necklace in his hand with intense confusion. The pulsing red light within it, which had been evidence of its connection to the city's magical core, was dimming and fading rapidly, turning to a pale and dead gray, as though life and magic were being drawn from it by an invisible force he could not see.

(It was Lumia, from her hidden tower, absorbing the magical frequency with her void magic.)"What..." Sylvester muttered in a low voice the sound crystals did not capture. His pupils widened and cold sweat began pouring from his brow in abundance, ruining his confident appearance. He pressed again with greater force, nearly shattering the jewel, and pumped more mana into it until his fingers bled, but nothing. The necklace was nothing but a dead stone.

"Why is it not responding? Why now?" In that killing moment of embarrassing and terrifying silence, where time stopped completely, where fifty thousand eyes, and the mocking gaze of Inspector Croft, were fixed on their ruler standing there like a fool clutching a dim stone, something no one had anticipated happened. From the highest point of the clock tower directly opposite the palace, an immense and concentrated beam of blue fire launched.

It was no mere arrow, it was like a celestial meteor of pure flame, splitting the mournful gray sky, leaving behind it a trail of blinding light, and exploding with tremendous force directly above the center of the square, illuminating the awestruck faces of the crowds. The explosion took shape in the sky, through precise magical control, to draw an enormous crest blazing in blue: the Roaring Williams Lion.

And before the explosion's echo could rebound, a massive voice was heard, amplified by wind magic, descending from the sky like an absolute divine verdict tearing apart the fabric of lies Sylvester had woven. It was Dex's voice, clear, firm, and furious:"LIAR!"