At first, he had believed the man to be a distraction sent by enemy troops to assassinate him that very evening in his own castle.
The way he had entered—flawlessly, quietly, unnoticed by anyone, and unannounced by the guards—only heightened his suspicions.
"Who are you?" he had questioned, his voice laced with hesitation, as he reached for the dagger hidden beneath his kingship garment. As if he could truly do anything, should the situation demand it.
Surprisingly, the man's response threw him off guard.
"You haven't been able to protect your kingdom or your soldiers, yet you think you can conquer me?"
Then, he let out a chilling, hollow laugh.
Rage flared within him. Who did this man think he was to be speaking to him in such a manner? Did he not realize whose presence he stood in? This was his kingdom, his castle, his throne room. What command could he not give to have this man captured and slain?
But then he hesitated, recalling the stranger's words—offering him victory in the war that he was currently loosing and the expansion of his strongholds.
It was an enticing offer, almost laughable in its impossibility. No man could achieve such feats alone. Not without an army of hundreds of thousands and the might of countless weapons.
"Are you an emperor of an empire?" he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.
The man did not answer immediately. Instead, he began to circle him, his steps slow, his lips curved into a knowing smile.
He answered plainly, without embellishment, as if it were the only response he could give.
"How would I be able to fulfill my promise if I were not an emperor?"
The question startled the king. For it was the very thought lingering on his lips—one he had hesitated to voice.
"Who are you?" He had asked.
But realized he had asked the wrong question when no answer seemed to be forthcoming from his visitor.
"What do you want?" He had rephrased his question and thus had seemed to finally catch the attention of the man who came to visit.
"I saw a flower in this house and I wish to pluck her, — for a night" he muttered,his voice barely above a whisper.
The King reached out for his dagger again. What impetus! What audacity!
It was true that he was a womaniser and made sure to sleep with everything in skirts.
Once he had even sent one of his generals off to the forefronts of a battle where he has died, just so he could have a night with his wife.
He was fiercely protective of her. And regardless of how many women he stained his bed with, she was not permitted even a hint of rebellion.
She was the Queen of the kingdom,the mother of his people. If she were to disrespect him, who else in the kingdom would have an ounce of respect left for his rule?
The man chuckled loudly.
"Who would they have to respect after the war?" He said while stepping closer to where the King sat. " With the way it's looking,you won't be sitting down there for any time longer anymore"
The King clenched his fists at such impunity. His face burned with rage. The veins at his temple throbbed. This man... dared to mock him?
"Guardssss!" He screamed out for, calling out for them to emerge and take this man away from his presence.
He had overstayed his welcome. Now, the King would show him the way out—not just out of the palace, but out of life, as he had done to many before.
Minutes passed and not a single guard was in sight.
"Guards!" The king bellowed again, embarrassment slowly creeping in as blooming on his face that almost betrayed his feelings.
"More than five thousand of your men are dead" He said casually.
"The Ming Dynasty still has fifteen thousand men waiting to ambush and kill you all. Three thousand men won't be enough to defeat them. It's either you surrender or sign a treaty with them" the outsider muttered as the Kings eyes flared open the more he spoke.
Who was he? And how was it possible that he knew this classified information. He kept questioning himself.
"Your men are starving. Their tens are torn apart by the forest winds. And they are running out of weapons"
The stranger took another step forward, voice low but deadly:
"Your men are starving. Their tents are torn apart by the forest winds. And they're running out of weapons."
The King stood up from the throne he said on andb staggered a little, as if struck by an invisible force.
Who was this man really and why does it seem as if he had been sent to mock him? To mock his men and mz his chilvary and to remind him of the war and his kingdom he was loosing.
"How do you know these things?" he demanded and his voice was hoarse. "Who sent you? Who are you really?" He bellowed while staggering towards the stranger. Still sober from the wine bottles he had doused previously.
The man raised his head slowly, his eyes catching the flickering light of the torchlit hall.
They gleamed—gold, but not of this earth.
Not human.
Not mortal.
Not like anything the King had seen in his entire existence.
"You asked me that already," he said with a smirk.
"But you didn't wait long enough for the answer."
A gust of cold wind swept through the room, snuffing out the nearby flames. Shadows twisted along the walls. The King felt something ancient stir in the air—older than war, older than kingdoms.
He became mortified. Extending his hand towards his dagger again. It was the only thing he could think k of, given his guards who hadn't even answered his call the previous times he called.
"I fell before your kind ever rose," the man said with many voices speaking as one.
"I walked the heavens. I drank from rivers you cannot name. And now..."
He paused, tilting his head towards the King.
"I've come to pluck your Queen"
The King shuddered at the thoughts of it.
He has heard stories about the Allen angels. But they had been said to be extinct thousands of years ago.
Why was one in his home? And wy was one seeking to pluck his queen for a night?
He let out a heavy sigh. And then a shudder as he recalled the continuation of the prophecy.
The child of a fallen angel would be the reason the work would end. The child of a fallen angel would be the cause of the apocalypse.
He took a few steps away from the stranger whose eyes shone despite the darkness he had plunged the room into by extinguishing the lights.
No. Never. If the child of a fallen angel were to cause that,then that child was going to be born by his queen given this fallen angel who wants to pluck her from him for a night.
If he were to agree to it, then he wouldn't even have all these kingdoms he just promised when the child would cause the apocalypse.
And there was no guarantee that he would even rule the Kingdom if a child of a fallen angel were to be born. To him and by his queen.
He began to trace his steps away from the throne room, running as fast as he could,as fast as his drunken state could allow him to, to avoid being in the presence of this immortal.
Surprisingly,he didn't notice him going after him even in the hallways that had lit up again. So he paused.
Why was he running? Not just his kingdom,but his own life was also at stake here.
If the Mings were to ambush all his men before daybreak, it wouldn't take them till dawn to reach the kingdom and slay all the remaining royals therein. This man hasd perfectly seen him and his ordeals and considered him the best candidate to father his child that would destroy the world.
But how would he condone the fact that the Queen was going to be greater than him?
She was just a slave girl he had taken when he defeated her father's palace in a war, wouldn't her being the mother of a child of prophecy cause her to feel superior to him?
"Guards!" he bellowed again for the tnird time as he stood indecisive in the hallway, yet,for this time again,there was still no response.
And just when he thought that the stranger had done something to his men, he heard the bells being struck and going off almost immediately.
"The Ming are here!!!" A voice shouted before his screams turned to one of agony.