Caius was on his feet before the war horn finished its second mournful note, his heart slamming against his ribs so hard he could feel it in his throat.
Twelve minutes.
Twelve minutes to prepare for Saint-rank Enforcers arriving a full day ahead of schedule, presumably because someone on the High Council wanted this handled before House Draxos could organize any meaningful defense.
The door to his room burst open without a knock this time, and Kaelan filled the frame, already fully armored, his greatsword strapped across his back.
“You felt it too,” Kaelan said, not a question.
“Father’s assembling the household in the main courtyard. The scouts confirm three Saint-rank signatures and a fourth, weaker escort, moving fast up the southern approach road. They’ll be visible from the outer wall within minutes.”
“They’re early,” Caius said, forcing his voice to stay level even as his mind screamed through every worst-case scenario.
“The Council’s letter said seventy-two hours.”
“Then either the letter lied, or someone changed their minds after sending it,” Kaelan said grimly.
“Either way, it doesn’t matter now. Get dressed. Father wants you visible and present when they arrive. Hiding will only make you look guilty.”
Caius yanked on his training leathers, still faintly scorched from the last three days of brutal sparring sessions, and followed Kaelan down through the estate’s corridors toward the main courtyard.
Servants and soldiers alike moved with the tight, controlled urgency of people who understood exactly how outmatched they’d be if this confrontation turned violent.
Saint-rank agents, three of them, backed by the full institutional authority of the Ashborn High Council, against a border household whose strongest asset was a single Saint-rank heir currently exhausted from a week of nonstop crisis management.
The main courtyard was already filling with House Draxos’s assembled forces by the time Caius arrived, soldiers forming disciplined ranks along the estate’s front approach, crimson auras flickering nervously along the formation.
Lord Voran stood at the head of it all, his massive frame radiating the same crushing pressure Caius remembered from the war room, though now tinged with something that might have been genuine concern.
Isolde Frostmere stood off to one side with several of her own Winter-Blessed knights, her expression sharp and watchful, clearly having drawn her own conclusions about what this sudden military mobilization actually meant.
“Caius,” Voran said as his youngest son approached, his flat voice carrying an unusual undertone of urgency.
“Whatever they ask you, whatever accusations they level, you let me handle the formal negotiations. Do you understand? Enforcers operate under strict procedural mandates. If they attempt to bypass proper evaluation protocol and act with lethal intent on Draxos land without due process, it grants me legal grounds to intervene directly.”
“And if they don’t care about due process?” Caius asked, dreading the answer.
Voran’s jaw tightened. You are reading on g.com, the official source.
“Then we fight, and we likely lose.”
Not exactly the reassurance Caius had been hoping for.
A distant rumble of hooves grew steadily louder from the southern road, and moments later, four riders crested the ridge beyond the estate’s outer wall, moving at a controlled, deliberate pace that somehow felt more menacing than an outright charge would have.
They were unmistakably inhuman in their bearing even from a distance.
Three of them wore matching white and gold ceremonial armor, the kind that seemed to shed the pale dawn light rather than simply reflect it, each rider radiating an aura so dense and oppressive that Caius felt it pressing against his chest from over a hundred yards away.
The fourth rider, trailing slightly behind, wore simpler robes and carried no visible weapon, clearly some kind of administrative attendant rather than a combatant.
The lead Enforcer, a woman with severe white hair cropped short and eyes the exact shimmering gold of polished coin, raised one gauntleted hand as the group approached the estate’s breached and hastily repaired outer wall, bringing her mount to a smooth, controlled stop.
“Lord Voran Draxos,” she called out, her voice carrying easily across the courtyard despite the distance, cold and formal.
“I am Enforcer Thessaly, acting under direct mandate of the Ashborn High Council. We are here to conduct an Emergency Evaluation regarding an unregistered divine anomaly reported within your household.”
“Enforcer Thessaly,” Voran replied, his own voice carrying equal formal weight, though Caius could hear the careful restraint underneath it.
“Your delegation arrives considerably earlier than the Council’s official correspondence indicated. I trust there is a reasonable explanation for the discrepancy.”
“The Council reassessed the priority level of this evaluation following additional intelligence received after the initial letter was dispatched,” Thessaly said, her golden eyes sweeping across the assembled Draxos forces with clinical disinterest before settling directly onto Caius with the precision of a hawk locking onto prey.
“Is that the vessel in question.”
It wasn’t really a question.
“My son, Caius Draxos,” Voran said, his tone hardening slightly at the word vessel.
“I would remind the Enforcement Delegation that House Draxos remains sovereign territory under imperial charter. Any evaluation conducted within these walls will proceed according to due process, including formal notice, witnessed testimony, and appropriate legal representation.”
Thessaly’s golden eyes didn’t move from Caius.
“Due process is, of course, the Council’s stated intention,” she said, though something in her tone made the reassurance feel distinctly hollow.
“However, given the severity of the anomaly reported, we will require immediate direct evaluation of the subject before any procedural formalities are addressed.” This chapter was taken from novelping . com without permission.
“Absolutely not,” Voran said flatly.
“Any evaluation of my son occurs with House Draxos legal counsel present and full documentation of the process, exactly as imperial charter guarantees for all noble households.”
Thessaly’s mount took one deliberate step forward, crossing through the gap in the still-repairing outer wall without hesitation, and the two Enforcers flanking her followed suit, their combined divine pressure suddenly flooding into the courtyard hard enough that several of House Draxos’s assembled soldiers visibly staggered under the weight of it.
Caius felt his knees threaten to buckle, his newly reinforced Vitality straining against a pressure that made his earlier confrontation with Kaelan feel almost gentle by comparison.
Beside him, he heard Isolde’s sharp intake of breath, her own considerable Blessed aura flaring defensively despite clearly recognizing she was hopelessly outmatched.
“House Draxos’s charter privileges,” Thessaly said coldly, “do not supersede direct Council mandate regarding confirmed divine anomalies, Lord Voran. I would advise your household stand down before this becomes an unnecessary escalation.”
Voran’s massive frame tensed, his hand drifting toward the greataxe strapped across his back, and for one horrifying second Caius genuinely believed he was about to watch his entire family commit collective suicide by standing against three Saint-rank Enforcers over a matter of legal procedure.
“Wait,” Caius said, stepping forward before he’d fully processed the decision, his voice carrying further across the tense courtyard than he expected.
“I’ll submit to the evaluation.”
“Caius,” Voran said sharply, “stand down.”
“If they wanted me dead outright, they wouldn’t have bothered with any of this,” Caius said quickly, forcing steady logic into his voice even as his heart hammered against his ribs.
“An evaluation implies they’re still deciding. That means there’s still a chance to prove I’m not the threat they think I am.” He looked directly at Thessaly, forcing himself to meet those cold golden eyes without flinching.
“I’ll submit voluntarily. But I want it witnessed, in the open, in front of my family and Lady Frostmere’s delegation both.”
Thessaly studied him for a long, silent moment, her expression giving away absolutely nothing, before something that might have been the faintest flicker of curiosity crossed her otherwise glacial features.
“Very well,” she said finally, dismounting in one fluid, controlled motion.
“A witnessed evaluation, conducted here, immediately.” Her golden eyes glinted with something Caius couldn’t quite name.
“Let us see, Caius Draxos, exactly what the Council is so concerned about.”
She raised one gauntleted hand toward him, and the air around her palm began to gather with dense, crackling golden light, condensing into a sigil far more intricate and far more powerful than anything High Oracle Seren had managed days earlier.
Caius forced himself to stand perfectly still, every instinct screaming at him to run, and felt Ashra’s faint, warm presence stir gently against his chest, a silent, fragile reassurance that he was not, quite yet, entirely alone in whatever was about to happen.
The golden sigil pulsed once, twice, and then surged directly toward him.