Chapter 112 Caelum

• Drave accuses me of being a terrible king, an incapable leader, full of fear and hesitant to take action. His words, laced with venom, aim to wound me but instead fuel the determination burning in my chest. Those accusations dissipate like smoke in the face of what I now see: the army sent by my allies, steadfast and numerous, advancing by my side. Each step we take resonates on the ground like a promise, a reminder that my pursuit of peace, built upon solid alliances with neighboring kingdoms, has not been in vain.
• The palace looms ahead, imposing and tainted by the chaos Drave has sown. We march toward it, the rhythmic sound of boots and the paws of the lycans reverberating like thunder. Across from us, I see my half-brother's soldiers forming ranks. Rebels. The sight of them enrages me. They are a distorted reflection of what Veridiana should be: disorganized, brutal, driven by a false cause. Among the lycans, I also notice several enchantresses. A people who should stand with me, a people who were attacked by these rebels and yet, inexplicably, now align themselves with Drave’s cause. My gaze narrows as I try to unravel the lies he must have spun to convince them. What empty promises were made? What deceit was whispered into their ears?
• Suddenly, the tense silence is broken by the appearance of a lycan. He is massive, his dark skin gleaming under the pale sun, muscles chiseled as if molded by war. He steps out onto the castle gates with an imposing posture, his presence a silent threat. My soldiers immediately ready themselves, hands gripping their weapons, eyes scanning for any sign of danger.