Chapter 0011: The Council Strikes Back
The scent of blood still lingered in the war chamber.
Garrick was dead. The assassins had been slaughtered.
**But Raiden knew this wasn't over.**
The Shadow Council had tested his defenses. They had tried to break his kingdom from within.
Now, they would come for him with everything they had.
And they wouldn't stop until either he was dead—or they were.
The Warning
At sunrise, a messenger arrived.
His face was pale, his clothes torn. He had ridden through the night.
He fell to his knees before Raiden. "My King… it's the eastern provinces. They've revolted."
Raiden's fists clenched. "The nobles?"
The messenger shook his head. "No, sire. The people. Someone has turned them against you."
**It was the Shadow Council's next move.**
If they couldn't kill Raiden outright, they would turn his own kingdom against him.
The Uprising
Raiden and his commanders rode out at once.
**Smoke filled the sky as they reached the eastern provinces.**
Villages burned. Roads were blocked with makeshift barricades. Thousands of peasants and mercenaries stood armed, banners raised—each marked with the sigil of the Shadow Council.
At their center, a single figure sat atop a black warhorse.
**Ezekiel the Prophet.**
A man whose voice could sway crowds. Whose words could turn even the most loyal against their king.
He raised his hands, his voice ringing over the battlefield.
"People of the east! Your so-called king spills noble blood in his halls! He executes without trial! He rules with steel and fear! Tell me—IS THIS JUSTICE?"
The crowd roared. "No!"
**Raiden had fought wars before. But never against his own people.**
Elara whispered beside him. "This is a trap. If we cut them down, the rest of the kingdom will turn against us."
Darius growled. "Then what? Let them burn our cities?"
Kael smirked. "Or we cut off the head of the snake."
Raiden's eyes locked onto Ezekiel.
**This wouldn't be a battle of swords. It would be a battle of words.**
The Duel of Kings
Raiden rode forward, stopping just a few paces from Ezekiel.
The crowd fell silent.
The King vs. The Prophet.
Ezekiel sneered. "Have you come to beg for mercy, usurper?"
Raiden's voice was steel. "I have come to give you one chance, Ezekiel. Drop your banners. Call off this rebellion. Or I will personally drag you through these streets in chains."
The Prophet laughed. "Your reign is already crumbling, Raiden. The people rise because they know the truth. You are no better than the tyrants before you!"
The crowd murmured.
**Ezekiel was dangerous—not because of his sword, but because of his words.**
Raiden took a deep breath. Then he spoke—not as a warrior, but as a king.
"You stand here, preaching justice. Yet who sent you, Prophet? Who pays your mercenaries? Who put gold in your hands to stir this rebellion?"**
Ezekiel flinched.
Raiden's voice grew louder. "You speak of tyranny—but you serve the Shadow Council! The same men who have ruled this land from the shadows for generations! The same men who sold your children to war! The same men who would kill you the moment you outlive your use!"
**The crowd hesitated. Doubt flickered in their eyes.**
Raiden pressed forward. "I do not ask for blind loyalty. I ask for truth. Look at the man who calls himself your Prophet—and ask who he truly serves!"
Ezekiel's face twisted with fury. "Lies! He—"
An arrow struck his shoulder.
He gasped, stumbling from his horse.
**The crowd turned against him in an instant.**
The same people who had cheered for him moments ago now saw him for what he was—a puppet.
Raiden's forces surged forward, securing the city with minimal bloodshed.
**The rebellion had died before it had even begun.**
The Shadow Council's Next Move
As Ezekiel lay bleeding, Raiden crouched beside him. "Who gave you the order?"
The Prophet spat blood. "You think you've won? You have no idea what's coming…"
Raiden grabbed his collar. "Tell me."
Ezekiel's lips curled into a smile.
"You can't stop it. The Council isn't coming for your kingdom anymore, Raiden. They're coming for you."
**Before Raiden could react—Ezekiel bit down on something. Poison.**
The Prophet died with a smile on his lips.
Kael muttered a curse. "That's not ominous at all."
Elara's face was pale. "They're done playing games. The next move won't be against your kingdom, Raiden. It will be against you."
Raiden exhaled, rising to his feet.
**The war wasn't just political anymore. It was personal.**
And the Shadow Council was about to find out—so was he.
The Assassination Attempt
The Shadow Council had declared war.
Not just on Raiden's kingdom.
**But on Raiden himself.**
And their next move would strike at the heart of his rule—his very life.
A Whisper in the Dark
The palace was silent.
The night was cold.
Raiden stood on his balcony, staring out over Ironspire. The city lights flickered in the distance, but his mind was elsewhere.
Ezekiel's final words haunted him.
"They're coming for you."
His enemies were done working from the shadows. They had tried to weaken his rule. They had tried to turn his people against him.
**Now, they would try to end him.**
And he was ready.
The Silent Blades
It happened just before dawn.
Raiden had always been a light sleeper.
So when the slightest sound—**a whisper of fabric against stone—**reached his ears, his instincts kicked in.
**Assassins.**
He rolled from his bed just as a blade slashed through the empty space where his throat had been.
Four figures. Dressed in black. Moving like shadows.
**They weren't just killers.**
**They were professionals.**
Raiden didn't hesitate.
In one smooth motion, he grabbed the dagger hidden beneath his pillow and hurled it into the nearest assassin's throat.
Three left.
A Fight in the Dark
The second assassin lunged.
Raiden dodged, grabbing his attacker's wrist and twisting—bone snapped, followed by a scream.
**Two left.**
The third man tried to gut him, but Raiden caught the blade with his bracer, driving his elbow into the assassin's face.
The killer staggered back—just enough time for Raiden to grab a sword from the rack and drive it through his chest.
**One left.**
The final assassin was already moving—not toward Raiden, but toward the window.
**An escape.**
Raiden wasn't about to let that happen.
With a powerful throw, he sent his sword spinning through the air—it caught the fleeing assassin between the shoulder blades.
The man collapsed.
**It was over.**
But before the assassin died, he whispered something.
Raiden leaned in. "Who sent you?"
The assassin grinned through bloody teeth.
**"Your oldest enemy."**
And with that, he was gone.
The Hidden Hand
Moments later, the doors burst open—Darius, Elara, and Kael stormed in, weapons drawn.
They saw the bodies.
Kael let out a low whistle. "Damn. You could've saved one for us."
Darius frowned. "We were supposed to have guards outside your door. How did they get in?"
Elara stepped forward, eyes glowing as she whispered an incantation.
For a moment, nothing happened—then the bodies shimmered and shifted.
Their faces changed.
Their armor disappeared.
**They had been disguised as palace guards.**
Elara's expression hardened. "The Council has men inside our walls."
Raiden exhaled slowly. "No."
His mind was already piecing the puzzle together.
**This wasn't just another assassination attempt.**
**It was a message.**
The Council wasn't just inside the palace.
**They were close.**
Someone on the inside had let these men in.
Someone in his inner circle.
And that meant one thing—the real traitor was still out there.
Waiting.
Watching.
And next time, they wouldn't fail.
The Traitor Revealed
Raiden stood over the bodies of the assassins, their blood staining the cold stone floor.
**This wasn't just an attack. It was an execution order.**
Not only had the Shadow Council infiltrated the palace—they had someone on the inside.
A traitor.
Someone he trusted.
And Raiden intended to find out who.
The Hunt Begins
By morning, the entire palace was on lockdown.
Guards doubled at every entrance. Every noble, every commander, every advisor was under watch.
Kael, ever the strategist, leaned against the war table. "We have two choices: We investigate quietly—or we draw the rat into the open."
Darius growled. "I say we start cutting throats until someone talks."
Elara shot him a glare. "That would only create more chaos. We need proof."
Raiden remained silent.
Then, finally, he spoke. "We do both."
**They would investigate in the shadows—while setting a trap in the light.**
The False Council Meeting
Raiden called for an emergency meeting that afternoon.
Every noble, every general, every high-ranking official gathered in the war chamber.
**And every single one of them was a suspect.**
Raiden stood at the head of the table, his expression unreadable. "Last night, assassins entered this palace disguised as my own guards."
Murmurs rippled through the room.
"They had inside help."
**Silence.**
He let his gaze sweep over them. "I will find the traitor among you. And when I do—there will be no mercy."
Kael stepped forward. "As of today, all palace personnel are being questioned. Anyone found guilty of aiding the Shadow Council will be executed immediately."
The tension was thick.
Then—someone stood up.
Lord Cedric. One of the wealthiest nobles in Ironspire.
A man who had supported Raiden since the beginning.
Or so he had claimed.
He cleared his throat. "My King, surely you don't suspect one of us? We have all served you faithfully."
**Raiden had been waiting for this moment.**
Because while Cedric spoke—Kael was watching.
And in that moment, he saw it.
A flicker of unease. A twitch in the fingers. A bead of sweat rolling down the noble's temple.
**Guilt.**
The Trap Closes
Raiden's voice was cold. "Cedric, step forward."
The noble hesitated. "M-my King? Surely you don't think—"
Kael moved first. In the blink of an eye, he was behind Cedric, dagger pressed to his throat. "Don't move."
Gasps echoed through the chamber.
Cedric's face paled. "Wait! This is madness!"
Elara's magic flared. "Then let's find out."
She whispered an incantation—and the room darkened.
**A truth spell.**
Cedric struggled, his body trembling.
Then, suddenly—he lunged.
**A hidden blade.**
He moved fast—but not faster than Raiden.
With a single step, Raiden grabbed Cedric's wrist, twisting it violently—a sickening snap filled the air.
The noble screamed, dropping his blade.
Raiden shoved him to the floor, placing his boot against Cedric's chest.
**"How long have you served the Council?"**
The noble gasped. "I-I had no choice! They threatened my family! They—"
Raiden pressed harder. "Names. Now."
Tears streamed down Cedric's face. "Lord Vance… Lord Marek… half the council is in their pocket!"
**Betrayal ran deeper than Raiden had imagined.**
Kael smirked. "Well. That makes things easier."
Raiden's eyes burned with fury.
The Shadow Council thought they could control his kingdom from the shadows?
**They were wrong.**
He would burn them out. One by one.
And he would start with Cedric.
Raiden raised his sword.
Cedric's eyes widened. "Wait! I can still be useful—!"
**The blade came down.**
The traitor's blood stained the war chamber floor.
Raiden turned to his commanders.
"Find the others. Kill them all."
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(To be Continue...)