Ash hung in the air like fog.
The garden, once a place of serenity behind the Knight Kingdom's walls, now resembled a battlefield touched by gods. Craters scarred the earth, twisted roots jutted out of the soil like broken bones, and steam hissed from molten cracks in the cobblestones. The corrupted king had been carried away—stripped of power, pride, and sense.
But Luci stood still.
He looked up at the sky, where the clouds had begun to swirl again—not crimson this time, but pale, almost sickly green. A storm was brewing, unnatural and swift, and it wasn't from the aftermath of his battle.
Christian, trying to balance himself as the weight of reality returned, approached Luci. He cleared his throat, still clutching a bottle like it was a sword.
"So… you beat a king. You want the throne now or are you just gonna go back to eating chicken in peace?"
Luci didn't look at him. His crimson eyes narrowed toward the far end of the garden—past the walls.
