"Listen up, everyone. You all know who I am, the Duke of Northside. You must be wondering why I summoned you here today. I won't beat around the bush. I called you all here so I could kill you, since you refuse to bend the knee to my brother, the King."
The words fell heavily, not shouted, not rushed. Calm.
For a moment, there was silence. Then a sharp, humorless laugh cut through the hall.
"He is no king," a noble snorted, cutting Fenrik off.
A few heads nodded. Others shifted uneasily, hands tightening around goblets, glances darting toward the guards lining the walls.
"That is exactly the problem," Fenrik replied calmly. "He is the king, whether you like it or not. He sits on the throne. You are meant to bend the knee."
"So you summoned all of us here just to convince us again?" another noble scoffed, stepping forward slightly as if daring Fenrik to strike him down. "I don't know about them, but my decision is sealed. A lowborn can never be king. He may sit on the throne, but he doesn't belong there."
"Yes, he has no royal blood," another added, voice sharp with disdain.
"It has been six years already," someone else said. "He should forget about our alliance. We will not bend the knee."
Voices overlapped, protests stacking on top of one another, anger feeding anger. The nobles no longer bothered to hide their contempt. This was not a negotiation to them. It was an insult.
Finn watched it all in silence.
He stood slightly apart from the others, his posture relaxed, his face unreadable. He did not argue. He did not protest. His gaze moved slowly across the room, counting exits, measuring distance, listening to the sound of boots against stone.
That was when he noticed it. Two knights were moving toward the entrance. They did not rush. They did not draw attention. One reached the heavy doors first, pushing them shut with a dull thud. The other slid the iron bolt into place. Finn frowned slightly, as he began to count Fenrik knights. He had not seen them enter.
"Now it's time," Finn muttered under his breath.
"Enough. All of you, enough," Richard shouted, his voice cracking as he tried to regain control of the room.
"Shut the fuck up, every single one of you," Fenrik said coldly. The hall went quiet again.
Fenrik raised a hand, fingers snapping once. A knight immediately stepped forward with a chair, placing it behind him. Fenrik sat down with deliberate ease and crossed his legs, as if settling in for a performance rather than a massacre.
Moments later, Oliver entered with the assistance of two knights, pushing in barrows that carried a large wine jar. The wheels creaked softly against the stone floor, the sound echoing far louder than it should have.
Every noble saw it.Every noble understood. The hall fell completely silent.
"You see," Fenrik continued, his voice almost conversational, "I didn't invite you here to beg you to bend the knee. No. You have all forgotten what my brother did to save this kingdom. He fought the monsters, drove them back into their caves, protected this entire land."
As he spoke, Finn could see it in Fenrik's eyes. Not rage. Not madness. Something colder. Something settled.
"And all he asked for in return was the throne. You denied him because he lacks... royal blood."
Fenrik leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees.
"Blood is blood. Mine is red. Yours is red. Even a hound's blood is red. So why discriminate, huh?"
No one answered.
The knights began pouring the wine into cups, the liquid glinting darkly in the torchlight. One by one, the cups were placed neatly along the long table. Perfectly aligned. Patiently waiting.
"So you intend to kill us," Kroger said, his voice tight as he refused the cup offered to him.
A few others followed his example, pushing the cups away with trembling hands.
Everyone already knew the moment the wine jar was brought in. Their time was up.
"Yes," Fenrik said calmly. "You are all going to die. The original plan was for you to drink the wine unknowingly, but that's boring. Too easy. I want fun. I want you begging for your lives, since you clearly don't value them." He smiled.
"So, everyone, it is time for you all to die."
The first scream came from the far end of the hall. Steel rang against steel. A noble's personal knight fell to the floor, blood spilling across the stone as Fenrik's men moved in with brutal efficiency.
A murmur spread through the hall as panic took hold. Nobles stumbled backward, colliding with one another. Some shouted orders. Others froze where they stood, mouths open, eyes wide.
Finn had thought he would enjoy it. He had imagined watching them fall, imagined satisfaction curling in his chest as the powerful were dragged down screaming.
Instead, his stomach tightened. His gaze snapped to Raymond. Raymond had not moved.
He stood perfectly still, one hand gripping the hilt of his sword, knuckles white. His eyes followed every strike, every fall, his jaw clenched so tight Finn could see the muscle twitch. Finn's chest sank, this would affect him. The realization hit harder than he expected. This bloodbath was not just entertainment. It was something Raymond would carry.
"Lord Finn, what are we going to do?" Vincent whispered, his voice shaking as he edged closer. Terror was written across his face, sweat beading at his temple. "Can you kill them all and get us out of here? I don't want to die. I'm here in place of my father."
Finn looked at him slowly.
'Wasn't this the man who had killed me without hesitation that night?'
"We may be enemies," Vincent continued desperately, lowering his voice as another scream echoed through the hall, "but right now we have one enemy. Do whatever you did to my men that night, please."
"I have to be dead first," Finn replied flatly.
He turned his head toward Raymond.
"Raymond, find a way to save yourself and leave this bloody place."
"I am not a coward," Raymond said immediately.
"Do you wish to die?" Finn barked, his voice sharp enough to cut through the chaos.
"Saving you is my first priority."
Finn's breath hitched as he spotted movement from the corner of his eye.
A knight was charging toward them.
"Saving my ass right now is the same as saving your life," Finn snapped. "I need you alive. You're my first brother in this god damn world."
The word hung between them. Vincent stared. Raymond stared longer, confusion flickering across his face.
Brother.
The knight raised his sword. Without thinking, Finn stepped forward, instinct overriding reason. His body moved before his mind caught up, ready to take the blow.
The blade never reached him. Steel clashed.
Raymond had drawn his sword in an instant, blocking the strike with a sharp twist of his wrist. There was no hesitation, no wasted movement. He stepped in and drove the blade cleanly into the knight's chest.
The knight collapsed, eyes empty, blood pooling beneath him.
"Wow," Finn muttered, staring at Raymond.
For a brief second, the noise of the hall faded. Finn stepped back from the corpse, heart pounding, his pulse loud in his ears.
"Sir Raymond, your duty is to protect me. The moment you fall, I'm next. So kill every single knight if you have to."
Raymond bowed once, deeply.
With one clean strike after another, he began cutting down Fenrik's knights.