The garden was unusually quiet.
Wang Tang's heart raced as he followed the guards down the estate's winding paths. The gravel crunched beneath their hurried steps, the shadows of towering stone lanterns stretching long in the afternoon light. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.
Not a single servant greeted him. Not a single gardener trimmed the edges of the palace hedges. The estate that usually buzzed with quiet, orderly life had fallen into an eerie, unnatural stillness.
"Where are we going?" he asked one of the guards, but they didn't reply. Their jaws were clenched, eyes forward, as if speaking would somehow make the situation worse.
And then, as they turned the final corner toward the main hall, he saw it.
The great double doors of the ceremonial mansion were wide open.
The faint smell of blood lingered in the air.
Wang Tang stepped inside—and froze.
---
The world turned red.
The marble floors of the grand hall—polished daily until they gleamed like moonlight—were now slick with blood. Dozens of bodies lay scattered in grotesque positions. Maids, cooks, young assistants… their faces were pale and lifeless. Their limbs twisted unnaturally. Some had purple discolorations along their necks. Others had puncture wounds and jagged bruises as if something had gripped them before releasing them to death.
His stomach twisted, bile rising in his throat. But he didn't look away.
He recognized every face.
They weren't strangers. These were the people who had raised him, fed him, helped him care for his creatures. People who had once smiled at him in passing, who had never treated him differently despite his strange hobbies. Now they were gone.
And seated at the far end of the bloodied hall was his father, Wang Ju, the IronLord of the Earth District.
He looked unmoving, like a statue carved from ancient obsidian. Eyes sharp. Shoulders broad. Not a trace of emotion crossed his expression as his gaze settled on Wang Tang.
Behind him stood two figures.
One was tall, beautiful, and cold-eyed—Lady Ren, Wang Tang's stepmother. She wore a dark crimson robe, her hair pinned up with golden needles, her face composed with practiced elegance.
Beside her stood Wang Lu, her son, and Wang Tang's younger half-brother. He was only a year younger, but his eyes were calculating far beyond his age. He stood with his arms folded behind his back, chin slightly raised.
Wang Tang knew instantly—this wasn't a tragedy.
This was a trap.
---
"Wang Tang," Lady Ren's voice broke the silence. It rang out sharp and clear across the hall. "Explain yourself."
He blinked.
"Explain what?"
She gestured with one slender hand to the carnage around them. "Your creatures. Your poisonous pets. One of them escaped and did this. Are you going to stand there and pretend you don't recognize the marks?"
Wang Tang's heart clenched. He scanned the floor again—looking beyond the bodies now. He spotted something. A trail. Slightly charred floor tiles. Green iridescent scale fragments. A faint outline etched in acidic spittle.
Verdant.
A snake with green bioluminescent scales and gentle eyes. He had raised it since it was a hatchling, nursing it through shed cycles, injury, and feeding. It had a temperament closer to a lapdog than a predator—docile and loyal.
Wang Tang's throat dried.
"Verdant would never hurt anyone," he said.
Lady Ren's eyes flared. "And yet, here we are."
"I don't know how he got out," Wang Tang said quickly. "Something must have frightened him. Provoked him. He never leaves his habitat—"
"He left, and people died."
Wang Tang stepped forward. "Please, if I could examine the scene, I might—"
A sudden chuckle cut him off.
Wang Lu.
His younger brother stepped forward, not even trying to hide the smugness in his smile.
"Creatures like that don't belong in a noble estate," he said. "This was bound to happen. You treat your room like a jungle pen, and now we see the consequences."
Wang Tang narrowed his eyes. "You… did something, didn't you?"
Wang Lu blinked innocently. "Me? Accusing your own brother without proof? That's hardly noble of you."
Wang Tang turned to his father. "Father, please—let me investigate. I can find out what truly happened. This—this doesn't make sense."
But Wang Ju didn't respond.
He remained still, gaze unreadable, fingers laced together.
Lady Ren turned back to him. "You've been coddled long enough. First it was frogs and beetles, then snakes, now this? You endanger everyone in this house with your 'collection.' You think this mansion is your private forest?"
"Verdant wouldn't attack unless provoked!" Wang Tang snapped. "Someone let him out on purpose!"
A flash of fury crossed her face. "Are you accusing us of murder? You dare stand here and point fingers after my maids were slaughtered in your name?"
Wang Tang opened his mouth to retort—he didn't even know what he would say—but that's when it hit him.
The timing.
The scale fragments were too perfect.
The attack happened during his time in the garden, far from his room.
It had been planned.
Wang Lu.
He had always looked down on Wang Tang's passion for taming and collecting. And now, with the entire household reeling from a massacre, what better opportunity to discredit him? To remove him from the line of succession entirely?
Wang Tang clenched his fists, trembling—not from fear, but fury.
"Why would I release Verdant?" he demanded. "Why would I ever harm the people who helped me raise him?"
"Because you're unstable," Lady Ren said coldly. "Your own mother was like that."
The words struck him like a slap.
"Don't talk about her," Wang Tang said in a low voice.
Lady Ren scoffed. "Wang Shen was a weakling. Soft-hearted. Unfit to be the first wife of the IronLord. You inherited her naivety."
Wang Tang's chest heaved. He took another step forward, but before he could say another word—
"Enough."
The single word echoed through the chamber.
The air grew heavy.
Wang Ju had spoken.
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Even Lady Ren and Wang Lu turned toward him, their expressions frozen.
Wang Tang held his breath.
Wang Ju slowly stood, his armored cloak whispering as it moved. He looked first at Lady Ren. Then at Wang Tang. His gaze was sharp enough to cut steel.
"What happened today," he said, voice low and dangerous, "is not something that will be decided with shouting."
Wang Tang swallowed hard. He wanted to speak again—but the look in his father's eyes stopped him cold.
There would be no words. Not now.
Judgment would come.
And Wang Tang could feel it—
This was only the beginning.