CH.107

Knox moved with an aura of elegance and tyranny. He strode forward, each step resonating with an otherworldly power that sent tremors through everyone.

The assembled members shrank back, their faces etched with terror as Knox came to a stop before Isolde.

He stared at the most powerful sorceress in the realm, now looking like a broken doll.

Isolde had tried invading Knox's mind the second he stepped into the hall with his entourage. It was a technique that had never failed her before, allowing her to slip past even the strongest mental defenses and bend the strongest wills to her whims. However, her mind had been the one invaded instead, and she had been fighting to fend him off from her deepest secrets until this moment when her powers couldn't sustain it anymore.

Too late, she realized she had severely underestimated her opponent.

Knox was no longer the naive prince she had once manipulated with ease. He had become something... else. Something terrifying beyond her comprehension.

She tried to speak, to utter some final defiance, but instead spat out a mouthful of dark blood. Her body shook with rage and unmistakable fear at being rendered in such a state by this same boy she had tried every means to cripple.

A series of gasps echoed through the hall as everyone witnessed the mighty Isolde reduced to such a pitiful state.

Many had suffered under her cruel machinations over the years, and seeing her brought low stirred a mixture of satisfaction and dread in their hearts. For if Knox could do this to Isolde, what hope did any of them have?

Isolde struggled to stand. Her legs trembled like a newborn fawn's as she tried not to appear weak before Knox even though he had clearly won.

Her body swayed, and for a moment it seemed she would topple over. But then a wicked laughter reverberated from her throat, starting as a low chuckle and building to a maniacal cackle that sent chills down the spines of all who heard it.

"You think... you've won?" she rasped, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. "You have no idea... the forces you're dealing with, boy!"

The air around her shimmered and distorted as she conjured a deadly spell - one of the forbidden magics that had been outlawed for centuries due to their destructive potential.

"Die!" Isolde shrieked as she hurled the pulsing orb of chaotic energy straight at Knox's heart.

But Knox didn't even flinch. He casually caught the spell mid-flight and returned it to its sender with ease.

Isolde's eyes widened in shock and terror as her own magic, amplified tenfold by Knox's power, slammed into her with the force of a battering ram.

The impact lifted her off her feet and sent her careening across the hall.

She hit the far wall with a sickening crunch of breaking bones before crumpling to the floor in a heap, unmoving.

A deathly silence fell over the hall as all eyes turned from Isolde's broken form back to Knox.

The darkness swirling around him seemed to intensify. Tendrils of shadow writhed and coiled like living things.

His piercing gaze swept over the assembled crowd before settling on Queen Sahar, who sat rigid upon her gilded throne. No doubt the woman was shaken to witness such an outcome.

Knox prowled forward with predatory grace.

No one dared to impede his path. He ascended the stairs until he stood looming over the queen, who seemed to shrink into herself despite her best efforts to maintain her bearing.

He leaned down and brought his face level with Sahar's, close enough that she could feel his breath on her skin.

His eyes glittered with murderous intent, twin pools of midnight that seemed to draw in all light and warmth.

Sahar swallowed. Hard. Her carefully cultivated mask of disdain began cracking to reveal the terror beneath.

"You will pay for your sins, mother!" Knox declared. The word 'mother' sounded like a vile curse on his tongue. Each syllable dripped with venom, laced with centuries of pent-up rage and resentment.

With that, he straightened up and turned to stride towards the center of the hall. But before he could take more than a few steps, King Frederick suddenly shot up from his seat with his face contorted in a fit of rage.

"Enough of this farce!" Frederick bellowed, spittle flying from his lips as he pointed a trembling finger at Knox. “Seize this traitor at once and put him in chains! I want him in the deepest dungeon immediately!"

Sudden scary-looking creatures materialized out of thin air. These were none other than the nightmarish phalanx of supernatural beings that put mere mortal soldiers to shame.

Wolves with eyes like burning coals and fangs as long as daggers. Vampires whose pale skin seemed to glow with an unholy light, their movements blurring with preternatural speed. Faeries with large wings, cruel and beautiful faces and arcane energies crackling around their forms. Witches and warlocks whose very presence seemed to distort reality with the very air shimmering around them like a heat haze.

These were no ordinary soldiers, but powerful supernatural beings imbued with abilities far beyond mortal ken.

The Guardians were the kingdom's ultimate weapon, called upon only in the direst of circumstances. That Frederick would unleash them now spoke volumes about the level of threat he perceived Knox to be.

They released a chorus of feral snarls and hisses and moved with deadly speed to carry out the king's order. But before they could reach Knox, a blinding white light flashed into existence, creating a shimmering barrier between them and their target.

All eyes turned to find Meredith standing with her arm outstretched, glaring daggers at Frederick as she poured her magic into the protective sphere. Power radiated from her in palpable waves, causing the very air to crackle with arcane energy.

"Don't you dare touch my grandson!" she hissed with protective fury. The maternal instinct to shield Knox from harm warred with the growing unease she felt at the depths of his weakened power.

Gasps resonated throughout the hall. Grandson? Was the prince truly not their Majesty’s child?

‘Impossible!’ Frederick was in disbelief. What was this damn woman saying? Why would she address his son as her grandson?

Sahar felt pleased at the reaction Meredith’s words evoked. “You see, this unfilial child can never have come from me. He is an imposter and an enemy!!” She scoffed derisively from where she still cowered on her throne. "You think your weak magic can hold back the esteemed Guardians? Don't be foolish. Your time has long since passed, Meredith. Step aside and let justice be done!"

Meredith opened her mouth to release the scathing retort on the tip of her tongue. However, her words died when the Guardians suddenly phased through her barrier as if it wasn't even there.

They continued their inexorable charge towards Knox with a tsunami of primal power and fury directed solely at him.

Knox's own anger swelled like a raging inferno, fueled by whatever memories he had glimpsed in Isolde's mind that had tipped him off to some terrible truth.

Even Meredith could feel the scorching rage boiling within him directed at her. She shrank back, already fearing the worst from his wrath.

His eyes seemed to blaze like twin supernovas as he drew upon reserves of magic that made even the mighty Meredith's abilities pale in comparison.

Arcing bolts of shadow and malicious force surged out toward the Guardians. The onslaught blasted through their ranks, shredding flesh, shattering bone, and dispersing their combined powers in a flood of agonizing screams. Bodies went tumbling and flying backwards in a tangle of limbs before slamming into the surrounding crowd of nobles with bone-crushing force.

Then Knox disappeared in a swirl of smoke, only to rematerialize directly in front of the princes. His hand morphed into wicked claws that lashed out to seize the eldest prince by the throat before anyone could so much as blink.

Knox’s claws sank into the latter’s flesh with sickening ease and then ripped out his still-beating heart in an explosion of gore.

The fellow’s lifeless body went tumbling away to land in a crumpled heap amidst the growing carnage, eyes already glazing over in death.