Hali's gaze remained locked on Pege Vuzu, but he couldn't ignore the three figures standing behind her—Vold Han, Finn Greystorm, and Alistar Perm. Their faces, though familiar through Ilis Damas' memories, still felt like strangers to him. They had all been childhood companions once, bound by the expectations of their noble bloodlines.
And yet, it was Pege who held his attention the most.
Her dark hair was cut short, falling just below her chin, a subtle defiance of the long, elaborate styles worn by most noblewomen. There was an undeniable grace to her presence, the kind that drew attention without demanding it. Her deep brown eyes held a flicker of something unreadable—curiosity, amusement, or perhaps nostalgia.
The three noble sons standing beside her watched the silent exchange, and though Hali's lack of acknowledgment might have insulted lesser men, they merely smirked. They knew better than to take offense.
A sudden voice cut through the tension.
"Yo, you died, man?"
It was Vold Han who spoke, his tone laced with amusement. He was the tallest of the group, broad-shouldered with unruly golden hair and a smirk that rarely left his lips. There was always an easy confidence about him, the kind that belonged to a man who never had to try too hard.
Hali turned to them, forcing himself to settle into the role of Ilis Damas. The memories of their friendship rushed in, filling the gaps between his hesitation.
"Nah," Hali said with a faint chuckle, his voice steadier than he felt. "It's just been a while."
"Verily," Finn Greystorm chimed in, his smirk more refined than Vold's. His silver-streaked hair was combed back neatly, his posture exuding the effortless elegance of a man born into nobility. "We almost thought you had abandoned us."
"I've been… good," Hali replied, though he wasn't sure how true the statement was. Alistar Perm, the quietest of them, merely nodded in acknowledgment. He had always been a man of few words, his icy blue eyes revealing little of his thoughts.
Pege, who had remained silent, finally spoke. "Let's get inside." There was something serious in her voice now, something almost urgent. "I heard something's going down today."
Hali glanced at her, catching the flicker of unease in her eyes before she turned away.
The Imperial Palace loomed before them, its majesty undeniable. White marble towers stretched toward the heavens, adorned with banners embroidered in gold. At the entrance, columns of obsidian stood tall, their dark surfaces etched with the history of the Xenon Empire in intricate carvings.
The great doors were pushed open, revealing the Grand Hall.
A red carpet stretched from the entrance to the imperial throne, flanked on either side by towering marble pillars. Chandeliers of gold and crystal hung from the vaulted ceiling, their countless candles casting a warm, golden glow upon the guests below. The scent of incense and wine lingered in the air, mingling with the faint melodies played by musicians stationed at the edges of the room.
Servants moved gracefully through the gathering, offering goblets of deep red wine to noblemen and their families. Murmured conversations filled the space, voices overlapping in a delicate dance of politics and pretense. But amidst all the splendor, there was one thing that did not belong. An execution platform.
It stood near the throne, stark against the elegance surrounding it. A raised wooden structure, darkened by years of blood spilled upon its surface. The sight of it sent a chill crawling up Hali's spine. He wasn't the only one who noticed.
Pege's fingers tightened at her sides, her gaze flickering toward the platform before quickly looking away. Vold, Finn, and Alistar exchanged wary glances but said nothing.
The tension in the air was palpable. As they moved forward, a figure emerged from the gathering—Martel Vuzu, Pege's father.
Martel Vuzu was a man who commanded attention effortlessly. His broad frame was clad in a robe of deep crimson, his dark beard trimmed to perfection. His sharp eyes swept over the group with an air of both amusement and scrutiny, lingering on Hali for a fraction too long.
"Haha, look how much you've all grown," he said, his voice rich with authority. "Alistar, your father didn't come today. Why's that?"
The question made Alistar stiffen. His jaw clenched, his expression tightening with something akin to resentment.
"You already know the reason," he said, his voice cool, measured. "He still hates him."
The room seemed to grow colder at the words. It was no secret that Alistar's father had despised Emperor Rynar II for years. The grudge had been whispered about in noble circles, but few dared to speak of it so openly.
Before the conversation could delve deeper, the Imperial Guards stepped forward. A hush fell over the hall. The great doors at the far end of the hall swung open, and Emperor Rynar II entered.
The room bowed as he ascended the steps to his throne, his regal form standing tall beneath the golden banners of Xenon. He was a man of striking presence, his golden eyes sharp, his long black hair tied back with a silver clasp. A smile played at his lips, but it was one that never quite reached his eyes.
"Greetings, my people," he began, his voice smooth, practiced. "The war with the Feldan Empire has finally come to an end. In the name of the great legend, Aestros Zentus, we have reached an agreement."
Murmurs rippled through the hall.
"Both empires have sworn to cease hostilities for the greater good. Though we have lost many, we have gained valuable lessons."
The Emperor's golden eyes darkened.
"We have also been betrayed by some."
The words hung in the air like a blade suspended by a thread.
"Those who have turned against us must be made to answer for their treachery."
At his signal, Imperial Guards stepped forward, dragging forth a prisoner.
The man was bloodied, bruised, his fine noble robes now in tatters. He fell to his knees before the Emperor, his breath ragged. Despite the pain etched into his features, there was no hatred in his eyes—only resignation.
"I am a traitor…" he murmured, his voice hoarse. "But I betrayed for a reason."
The hall was silent.
The Emperor's hand moved toward the Sword of Vigilance. The blade was legendary, its silver surface engraved with the oaths of the empire's greatest rulers. It was not merely a weapon—it was a symbol. A blade meant to carry out justice.
"Watch carefully," Julius whispered in Hali's ear, his grip firm on Hali's shoulder as he leaned in. Hali, his heart pounding in his chest, could not look away.
The Emperor's voice rang out, cold and final. "I, Rynar II, The Emperor of the Xenon Empire, for your betrayal, I hereby sentence you to death."
In one swift motion, the Emperor brought down the Sword of Vigilance. The execution was swift, but the weight of it was felt by every soul in the room. The sound of the blade cutting through the air was like a death knell, echoing throughout the grand hall. The Emperor exhaled slowly, lowering the sword. Then, with that same chilling smile, he turned to face his audience once more.
"The price of betrayal is steep," he said.
But Hali…
Hali wasn't sure whether justice had been served—or if something far darker had just taken place.
And from the corner of his vision, he could see Pege's hands clenched tightly into fists. She wasn't looking at the body. She was looking at the Emperor. And in her eyes, Hali saw fear.