From each cardinal direction, pillars of Darkness and Corruption erupted like overwhelming tide, and Phantoms of terrifying figures solidified on each direction of the Empire.
North, Varlen Province
A towering figure sat upon a throne made of skulls, each skull screaming without sound.
The shadow’s eyes glimmered with frozen hatred, as though it ruled over winter, death, and all the forgotten dead.
North Northeast, Solmaris Province
An immense figure wrapped in chains of chaos emerged.
Every chain writhed like serpents, dripping with distortions of reality.
Its face was hidden, but countless whispers leaked from beneath its helm.
Northeast.
Eldrath Province
A horned silhouette rose, surrounded by storms of tainted black lightning.
Its huge body seemed to devour the Heavenly Punishment for its nourishment.
East Northeast, Lorian Province
The phantom of a woman with a countless hands formed.
Even her throne was made from her own hands, and the hands spread on her back like how a proud peacock would show her feathers.
East, Serinth Province
A black cloaked figure hugged a spear that depicted a Yaksha’s face as it slowly condensed within the pillar of corruption.
The cloak wrapped around its form like a living night mist, swallowing every trace of light.
The spear hummed with a low, predatory resonance, and the carved Yaksha face twisted as if alive, grinning with rows of uneven teeth.
East Southeast, Ravaryn Province
A colossal serpent coiled around a fallen sun, its scales shimmering with molten corruption.
Every breath it released melted mountains and twisted rivers into living chains.
Southeast, Veldora Province
A faceless monk hovered above the province, hands folded as if in eternal prayer.
His black Kasaya barely covered his body, and his body seemed to eminate a weird sense of desire that seemed hard to control.
South Southeast, Altras Province
From the pillar of corruption emerged a towering stag with antlers made of splintered bone.
Its hide was a patchwork of rotting fur and exposed sinew, yet it moved with the slow, dignified grace of a king who had forgotten he was dead.
South, Mirath Province
A burning figure slowly coalesced from the pillar, a blue ghostly fire that seemed to weep and stir with malice.
South Southwest, Kharos Province
A beast formed from flesh, bone, and rot lifted its many heads to the sky.
Every head roared a different prophecy of ruin, creating a storm of despair that rolled across the land.
Southwest, Drakenfell Province
A massive silhouette with countless wings made of shadow unfurled itself.
Each wingbeat turned daylight into twilight, and the ground below seemed unable to contain the grandeur of the wings themselves.
West Southwest, Brastin Province
An image of an ferocious man similar to Barbarian slowly condensed from the pillar.
It’s body fierce and tattoo covering his entire body.
A phantom tree rose, tall enough to pierce the heavens.
Hanging from its branches were countless figures, each one still alive and whispering forgotten curses into the wind.
West Northwest, Yuldora Province
A shadowy woman danced across the sky, her movements swirling into illusions that devoured the minds of anyone who witnessed them.
Northwest.
Astragar Province
A giant with a cracked mask emerged, holding a massive hourglass filled with black sand.
North Northwest.
Fareon Province
A being with a face of a Lion condensed from the pillar, its tail similar to scorpion, and each of its body part amalgamation of a fierce beast.
=================
Kaiser sat in the throne room, spine straight but patience wearing thin, and released a slow sigh as the clamor washed over him.
Voices clashed in the vast hall like colliding waves, accusations hurled across polished marble floors, fingers stabbing through the air as though blame itself could be pierced and subdued.
He pressed two fingers to his temple.
How had this Dynasty survived for so many generations when its court sounded more like a bickering marketplace than the nerve center of an Empire?
How had a realm this chaotic not collapsed under its own noise?
The Generals were perhaps the most infuriating sight of all.
Men who should have been stationed along the distant provincial borders, standing against the Evil Entities that had descended in recent weeks, were instead leaning back as if attending a dull theater performance.
One picked at his ear.
Another inspected the edge of his gauntlet.
None showed even a glimmer of intent to speak, let alone contribute.
And at the center of the storm sat Prime Minister Venrick.
His expression was the same as always.
A mind that weighed every word with ruthless precision.
His faction of officials argued without pause, voices sharpened by ambition, while the Mother Empress’s officials fired back with equal ferocity.
It was less a debate and more a duel fought with sharpened tongues.
Kaiser watched the spectacle unfold, wondering if any of them remembered the Empire outside these walls was bleeding.
The quarrels continued, echoing through the vaulted chamber.
Generals like Karon the Unrivaled, a man who had never once tasted defeat in his Realm, and Garvick, the King of Fists, the same madman who had punched a Demon Heirarch of the Demon Sect into nothing but scattered remnants, were…
Loitering around?
Wasting precious time?
Pretending none of this concerned them?
Kaiser resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose.
What the hell was he supposed to do in a situation like this?
Just as the thought formed, a voice flickered through his mind.
‘Kaiser.’
His posture straightened instantly, expression shifting from muted disbelief to full solemnity.
He responded through mind transmission without hesitation.
‘Yes, Father.’
‘What do you think you should do in this situation?’
Kaiser’s brow twitched once.
Then again.
Then a third time.
He barely managed to keep his expression composed, but the frustration simmering beneath the surface was so palpable that several officials mistakenly believed he was angered by the chaos of the court.
If only they knew.
Kaiser did not care about their arguments.
He did not care about the petty factions or the clashing voices or the endless power struggles.
None of it mattered to him.
He knew the moment his father asked that question, the test had begun.
This was not a small probe.
This was a test that weighed the worth of the one sitting on the Imperial Throne.
Kaiser tightened his grip on the armrest, gaze fixed ahead even as his thoughts churned beneath the still surface of his expression.
The throne beneath him felt heavier than usual, as if the carved metal had gained weight the instant his father’s voice echoed in his mind.
He understood why he was here.
Why he, of all candidates, had been placed on this seat.
He held no deep political bias.
No entangling alliances.
No faction had molded him or claimed him as their rising star.
Which meant he could serve as a neutral presence, a balancing point between the powerful forces that constantly clashed in court.
But neutrality alone did not grant him the right to remain.
If he wanted to hold this throne, even as a puppet, he needed to prove one thing to the Ancestors and the Royal Clan backing him:
That he was a useful puppet.
A puppet who would not break at the first pressure of responsibility.
Because if he failed, if he showed even a sliver of incompetence, there were many others who would gladly take his place.
They were more capable than him.
More ambitious than him.
But ambition was precisely the problem.
The Ancestors did not trust such ambition.
They had seen too many dynasties fall because of greedy hands that reached too far, too fast.
Kaiser, in comparison, was the safest choice.
The stable choice.
But safety meant nothing if he could not perform.
And now, with the court in chaos and his father watching silently, Kaiser understood that the next words he spoke, the next action he took, would determine whether he truly deserved this throne… or whether he would be quietly replaced.