The Royal Castle of the Holy Empire stood in suffocating silence.
Inside the council chamber, a long obsidian table stretched the length of the vaulted hall. High nobles, archdukes, bishops, and military commanders lined its sides, jeweled rings glinting beneath chandeliers of consecrated crystal. Holy sigils carved into the marble walls shimmered faintly, casting a dignified golden glow over polished armor and embroidered silks.
At the head of the table, upon an elevated throne carved with radiant runes, sat Theron, King of the Holy Empire.
Reports were being delivered in measured tones.
Border stability.
Noble unrest.
Reconstruction costs.
Military losses.
"…and with the worldwide bounty declared, Your Majesty, adventurers from other allied kingdoms have already responded—"
A shout suddenly echoed from outside the chamber doors.
"Stop! You dare—! You can't go in there—!"
The doors did not open.
They did not shatter.
Instead—
A shadow bled through them.
Darkness seeped across the wood like ink soaking into parchment. Then, from that living black, a figure stepped forward as though emerging from deep water.
A guard lunged, blade drawn.
"Halt! Who goes there?!"
The shadow solidified.
Long white hair spilled over slender shoulders. Silver eyes gleamed beneath lowered lashes. Two elegant, night-blue horns curved from her temples, catching the faintest glimmer of light.
The temperature in the chamber plummeted.
Breath misted in the air.
The nobles froze.
The figure did not acknowledge the guard.
She simply walked forward.
Through the table.
Her form phased through solid obsidian as though it were smoke, her body dissolving and reforming without resistance. The guard's blade trembled in his grip.
At the head of the chamber, King Theron slowly raised a hand.
"Stand down."
The command carried no strain—only authority.
The guard hesitated, then withdrew.
The room fell into stunned silence.
The king leaned back slightly, studying the intruder with calm, unreadable eyes.
"Queen Ellen Nyxia," he said evenly. "I was not expecting you."
Gasps rippled down the table.
Whispers followed in hushed disbelief.
"Ellen Nyxia…?"
"Did he say—?"
"Queen of the Night Elves—"
"—one of the legendary heroes…"
All eyes locked onto Ellen Nyxia.
She stopped before the throne.
Then she stepped closer.
Closer still.
Until their faces were separated by mere inches.
Silver eyes met golden ones.
No bow.
No greeting.
No courtesy.
Only quiet, controlled fury.
The air between them felt like the instant before lightning strikes.
The nobles scarcely dared to breathe as Ellen's shadow lengthened, swallowing the carved back of the king's throne. The chamber seemed to shrink around them.
For a long moment, neither spoke.
Then Ellen's lips curved—not into a smile, but into something sharper.
"Child."
The single word fell like a blade.
Shock rippled through the council. Several nobles stiffened; one bishop visibly paled.
Theron's fingers tightened almost imperceptibly against the armrest of his throne. His expression, however, did not change.
Ellen leaned closer, lowering her voice—yet every syllable carried with crystalline clarity through the chamber.
"You would do well to mind what leaves your mouth."
Her horns cast long, angular shadows across his face.
"You may sit upon that throne. You may rule this Empire." Her silver gaze hardened. "And you may carry his blood within your veins."
A faint pulse of shadow expanded beneath her feet, spiderweb cracks splintering across the marble.
"But do not forget who you are speaking to."
The air thickened, heavy as storm clouds.
"You demand answers from the Night Elves," she continued, her tone sharpening. "Because you saw one Night Elf standing beside a vampire."
A murmur stirred uneasily among the nobles.
"You saw one," she repeated. "And from that single sight, you dared to question an entire race."
Her eyes flashed.
"Tell me, Theron—shall I now demand answers for every human who has allied themselves with demons?"
Several nobles shifted in discomfort.
"Shall I assemble the names of every noble house that traded with the Under Realms?" she pressed. "Every priest who bartered forbidden relics? Every knight who sold their blade to fiends in exchange for power?"
Silence swallowed the room.
"If one elf condemns us all," she said coldly, "then one human condemns you all."
Theron's jaw tightened—subtle, but unmistakable.
Ellen straightened slightly, though the oppressive pressure did not ease.
"If you cannot provide the answers I demand," she continued, her voice descending into something dangerously calm, "then I will assume your accusations are born not of truth—"
The marble beneath her shadow cracked further, fissures racing outward like veins of ink.
"—but of arrogance."
The guards along the walls felt their knees weaken beneath them.
"And if that is the case," she finished softly, silver eyes glowing like twin moons in a moonless sky, "I will make you regret ever uttering such foolishness."
Her shadow rose behind her like a towering tidal wave.
The chamber trembled.
The legendary hero.
The Queen of the Night Elves.
Standing in the heart of the Holy Empire.
Threatening its king.
The marble groaned beneath the strain. Shadows crawled along the walls like living creatures, devouring the golden light of the chandeliers. Frost crept along the edges of the obsidian table, spreading in delicate crystalline veins.
No one moved.
No one spoke.
King Theron remained seated.
Calm.
Measured.
Then—
He laughed.
It was not loud. Not mocking.
Just steady.
"You have not changed," he said at last, lifting his gaze to meet hers. "Still as quick to bare your fangs as ever."
A noble nearly fainted at the king's tone.
Ellen's eyes sharpened.
"You mistake restraint for weakness," she replied.
Theron lifted a hand. The holy sigils carved into the chamber walls flared to life, radiating a stronger golden brilliance. The sacred light pressed back against the encroaching shadows, stabilizing the suffocating pressure—though only just.
"I demanded answers," Theron said evenly, "because a High Night Elf stood beside the son of the Vampire King."
Murmurs erupted despite themselves.
He continued before anyone could interrupt.
"The Demon King fell. The Vampire King fell. And now their heir walks free."
His voice hardened.
"And that heir was born of a Night Elf."
The words echoed through stone and bone alike.
Ellen's expression did not change.
"But you assume alliance," she said coolly. "You assume conspiracy. You assume my people sanctioned such a union."
Her eyes flickered with cold light.
"You forget something, boy."
She stepped forward once more.
"Night Elves are not hive-minded creatures beneath my constant gaze."
A restrained wave of dark mana rippled outward.
"If one of my kin chose their own path, that does not make it the will of my crown."
Theron studied her carefully.
"And yet," he said quietly, "you came personally."
The nobles glanced between them.
Ellen's lips curved faintly.
"You placed a worldwide bounty on a child," she said. "Dead or alive."
Her silver eyes burned brighter.
"You broadcast his face to every assassin, mercenary, and desperate soul with a blade."
A long pause.
"And you expected me not to appear?"
Silence settled once more.
Theron leaned back slightly, though his gaze remained unwavering.
"I expected," he replied, "that if the Night Elves were uninvolved, their queen would clarify it."
"And if we are not?" she asked.
"Then the Empire will retract its accusations against your people."
A stir swept through the council at that declaration.
"But the bounty," Theron continued, voice firm as steel, "remains."
The shadows around Ellen flared violently.
"You would hunt him regardless."
"Yes."
No hesitation.
"He is the son of monsters who slaughtered thousands."
Ellen's gaze sharpened to razors.
"And what proof do you possess," she asked softly, "that the child shares their will?"
Theron did not answer immediately.
That silence was answer enough.
Ellen's voice lowered further.
"You gamble with the balance of the world, Theron."
Her shadow rose again, stretching across the throne and up the vaulted walls.
"You push this hunt further—dragging the Night Elves into it—and you will draw more than desperate adventurers."
Her eyes gleamed.
"You will draw me."
The chamber trembled.
Several nobles bowed their heads instinctively.
Theron's golden aura brightened faintly, a quiet sun against encroaching night.
"Is that a threat?" he asked.
Ellen tilted her head.
"No."
A faint, dangerous smile.
"It is a promise."
For a long, suspended moment, the two rulers held each other's gaze—holy radiance against primordial shadow.
At last, Ellen straightened.
"The Night Elves will not answer for the choice of one individual," she said with composed finality. "But neither will we permit reckless slaughter carried out in our name."
Her gaze swept slowly across the assembled nobles, pinning each in turn.
"If any of you dare set foot within our forests under the excuse of 'investigation'—"
The marble fractured further beneath her.
"You will not leave."
A final silence descended.
Then her body dissolved into shadow.
Darkness withdrew in an instant, collapsing inward before vanishing entirely.
The chamber returned to light.
The temperature rose.
The frost melted.
But no one moved.
No one dared to speak.
King Theron remained seated, golden eyes narrowed thoughtfully.