The Third Prince Of Darkness

They gathered king of Asina Richard, the emperor of Tamerid, and the bodies of many other important figures, taking them away one by one, and quickly cleaned the bloodstains. Then, a ceremonial long carpet was laid in front of Alpshar's tent, and Lutharion, the Emperor of Tiamat, walked to the end of the carpet.

Lutharion, the Emperor of Tiamat, walked along the long carpet with his head bowed towards Alpshar. Each step deepened the silence within the camp. Soldiers and commanders gathered around the tent, held their breath, watching the moment unfold. With the most powerful emperor about to kneel before him, Alpshar was now recognized not just as a ruler but as the undisputed conqueror of the continent.

When Lutharion reached the throne-like chair where Alpshar sat, the clinking of his armor echoed as he knelt. Bowing his head deeply and looking at the ground, he began to speak in a low voice:

"Conqueror Alpshar, I bow before your power and might. The throne and the people of the Tiamat Empire are now under your protection. I, Lutharion, Emperor of Tiamat, pledge my loyalty to you and the rising southern kingdom."

Alpshar listened to Lutharion's words with a composed expression, seated on his throne. A proud smirk played on his face, yet the sharpness in his eyes revealed that this moment was far more than symbolic submission. Lutharion's act of kneeling signaled a permanent shift in the balance of the continent. Even now, I noticed an artist capturing this scene in the corner.

Alpshar rose slowly from his seat and approached Lutharion with measured steps. Planting the sword he held firmly into the ground, he took a golden crown handed to him by a nearby guard. Placing the crown atop Lutharion's head, he raised his voice.

"Lutharion, your oath of loyalty is accepted. But this loyalty must be proven not only in words, but also through deeds. The people and armies of the Tiamat Empire will unite under the banners of the south. It will be your duty to ensure this. Now rise and fulfill your task."

Lutharion lifted his head slowly. In Alpshar's gaze, there was both a menacing authority and the self-assuredness of victory. Lutharion stood, bowed slightly, and retreated.

As Lutharion moved back, all eyes turned to me, yet my thoughts were elsewhere. With my father's death, the throne of the Asina Kingdom had passed to me, but this throne was now a shadow of its former glory. I would rule not as a sovereign but as a vassal. The thought made my stomach churn, but I knew resistance was futile.

A guard stood before me, bowing his head. "Prince Ethan, it is your turn," he said in a low voice.

Taking a deep breath, I wiped all emotion from my face and began walking forward. My steps on the long carpet were deliberate as I approached Alpshar's throne-like seat. I could feel the gazes of the surrounding soldiers—some mocking with the pleasure of victory, others neutral. In this tent, where my father had lost his head, I was now about to kneel. Pride had to be set aside; survival demanded it.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

Reaching the end of the carpet, I found myself directly before Alpshar. Seated in his grand chair, this man was the embodiment of victory. With his gold-embroidered armor and dark red cloak, he looked more like a conqueror than a king. The cold calculation in his eyes conveyed that he recognized only strength. If I obeyed, I might live; to resist was certain death.

I knelt and lowered my gaze, striving to keep my voice steady. "Conqueror Alpshar, as the prince of the Asina Kingdom, I pledge my loyalty to you and the might of the south. The people, lands, and an army of my kingdom are now under your protection. I swear to carry out any command you give and to unite my kingdom under the banners of the south."

My words echoed in the tent. Each one felt like a piece of me breaking away, though I showed none of it outwardly. As I knelt, I tried to anticipate Alpshar's response. The silence stretched for what felt like hours, but was mere seconds.

At last, Alpshar rose slowly. His heavy steps broke the silence in the tent as he approached, the sound of his armor reverberating. Standing before me, his presence was suffocating. Planting his sword into the ground once more, he took a crown adorned with blue stones—the symbol of the Asina Kingdom—from a guard. With deliberate care, he placed it on my head. This gesture carried symbolic weight; I was now the ruler of Asina, but this throne symbolized vassalage, not sovereignty.

Alpshar's voice boomed with authority. "Ethan Lenistark, your oath of loyalty is accepted. But your kingdom must prove itself worthy of the south's might. From now on, the Asina Kingdom will be an extension of me. Your task is to integrate your people into this new order. Fail, and you will be crushed under this crown."

Lowering my head, I responded, "I will carry out your commands, Conqueror Alpshar."

Alpshar studied me for a few seconds, then turned back and resumed his seat. "You have all borne witness," he announced in a commanding voice. "Today, the kingdoms of Tiamat and Asina have become part of the south. This is the moment the continent's destiny changes. From now on, it is not the darkness of the north but the light of the south that shall reign!"

The soldiers erupted in cheers at his words. I, however, remained still, gazing at the ground for a few moments longer before retreating with heavy steps. As I moved away, my mind churned with silent turmoil. All I could think about was how to survive this and keep Asina standing.

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A Week Later–Third-Person POV

In the capital of the Asina Kingdom, every window and door of every house was boarded up, and the people had locked themselves away. Women, in particular, had taken extra care to secure their homes. After all, this world had both light and dark shades, and wars unquestionably belonged to the dark side. By the nature of war, the victors could do as they pleased, and the entire north was now gripped by fear. Women especially dreaded the prospect of being raped or, worse, enslaved for life.

Especially after hearing the news that their beloved prince Ethan had lost the fight against the bloody king. This despair had spread to the palace, where the atmosphere was even more oppressive. The extent of this gloom could be seen in the throne room. Luciana sat alone on the throne, calmly telling a story to her daughter Odette.

Odette, however, was no fool. She had sensed that something terrible had happened, but lacked the courage to ask what it was.

Isabella had taken a group of soldiers to quell the rebellion outside the capital, and no news had been heard from her. Meanwhile, the fear that Alpshar could arrive at any moment had caused Luciana and the palace staff sleepless nights.

Luciana, now a widow, grieved her husband's death, even though their relationship had not been strong. But what truly broke her heart was the likely death of her son. The only known fact about Ethan was that he had narrowly lost his bloody battle against Alpshar, the ruthless king.

Luciana likely knew her son was dead, and in recent days, she had begun to accept this grim reality. She was left with only two daughters, but Violet was already safe at the academy. Her focus now was solely on keeping her youngest daughter, Odette, safe, and Isabella had already planned everything.

When the Isabella family guards arrived, Luciana told her last story and looked at her daughter one last time through tears.

Luciana hugged little Odette tightly, tears streaming down her face. The weight of the moment hung heavy in the air, like a suffocating blanket over the room. The guards stood silently, their expressions betraying the impact of the heartbreaking scene before them. With trembling hands, Luciana cupped her daughter's face and tried to muster a faint smile.

"Odette," she said, her voice heavy with sorrow but firm with resolve. "You are such a brave girl. You'll be strong and smart, just like your big brother, alright? No matter what happens, don't be afraid. Isabella's plan will keep us safe."

Odette looked into her mother's eyes, nodding, as though tears spilled freely from her own. Despite her young age, she understood that this was a farewell, one that would be permanent. Luciana pressed a kiss to her daughter's forehead and turned to the guards, nodding her approval.

"Protect her," she commanded, her voice steady and resolute. "With your lives."

The guards saluted quietly and took Odette away. Luciana felt her knees weaken as she watched her daughter leave. When the door closed, she stood motionless, staring at the empty room. The silence was so profound it felt oppressive. Even her own breathing seemed intrusive. Slowly, she sank onto the cold stone of her throne, cradling her head in her hands. She had no reason left to live and no desire to continue. Explore stories on empire

As a queen, she knew all too well the kind of danger she was in. At best, she would become a concubine to the enemy ruler, Alpshar. At worst, she would face horrors beyond imagining. But Luciana was not the kind of woman to accept such a horrific fate. She raised her hand in a silent command to her maids, who wept openly as one of them, trembling, brought a small glass vial to their queen.

Luciana understood that the longer she delayed, the greater the risk of failure. She took the vial, fully aware of its contents. All the pain and fear she had endured, the uncertainty of what lay ahead, had led her to this moment. The crushing weight on her chest made it almost impossible to breathe. Once bright, her eyes now glistened dimly, reflecting a life that had decayed beyond recognition.

Her husband loss, the assumed death of her son, and the looming threat of Alpshar had extinguished any flicker of hope she might have clung to. Her hands shook with desperation, yet her expression was resolute. Slowly, she removed the vial's stopper. As the cold liquid spread across her palm, she parted her lips and took a sip.

Though the pain was brief, it was not fleeting for her—it was an end, not a beginning. Her eyes began to close as the silence within the palace deepened with each passing moment. The only sound was the heart-wrenching sobs of the maids who adored their queen.

Luciana's head tilted forward, her body slumping lifelessly onto the throne. The palace was engulfed in a chilling stillness, broken only by the inexorable passage of time.

But then, the grand throne room's doors burst open, and footsteps echoed through the vast space. Luciana's blurred vision could not discern who had entered, but she was certain she heard a familiar voice shouting her name. As she slipped into oblivion, she thought, perhaps this final moment was a gift from the gods. A faint smile graced her lips as her eyes closed for the last time.