THE GENERAL'S DISGRACED HEIR-Chapter 341: THE TENSION BENEATH THE SUN

A ripple of tension passed between Aria and Kairos. Salomonis, however, maintained his composure, his expression shifting to one of professional concern.

"Might I inquire as to the cause for such urgency? We have only just been dismissed from imperial audience."

"Intelligence has reached His Grace Duke Ephesians Lorvantis that you possess information about her disappearance," Sir Duk replied. Through the vertical slit in his helmet, a golden glow like concentrated sunlight began to emanate, fixing on Salomonis with unnerving intensity.

Salomonis weighed his options carefully before asking, "And if I were to reject your... invitation to return to the castle?"

The temperature around them seemed to drop despite the afternoon sun as Sir Duk's hand reached behind his back, moving toward the massive sword strapped there. The glow from his helmet intensified until it resembled twin miniature suns burning directly into Salomonis's eyes.

"Be my guest," Sir Duk replied, the simple phrase carrying such menace that even Salomonis took an involuntary step backward. The sound of metal scraping against metal as his fingers closed around the sword's hilt echoed across the suddenly silent bridge.

Salomonis raised a placating hand. "That won't be necessary, Commander. We will, of course, comply with Her Radiance's summons."

The glow in Sir Duk's helmet dimmed marginally as his hand returned to his side. "A wise decision, Minister. Your carriage will be escorted. Vice Captain Valorian will ride with you to ensure your... comfort."

As they prepared to return to the palace, Salomonis noticed the growing audience their confrontation had attracted. Information would spread through the capital before sunset, speculation and rumor magnifying with each retelling.

Exactly as someone intended, Salomonis realized, his tactician's mind analyzing the situation even as he complied with the commander's directions. This isn't just about finding Elara—it's about undermining Lysora's political standing.

As the carriage turned back toward the palace, escorted by the impressive formation of Sun Brigade soldiers led by their imposing commander, Salomonis caught a glimpse of motion atop a distant building—too fast and deliberate to be a bird, too small to be noticed by anyone not specifically watching for it.

He allowed himself a moment of grim satisfaction. At least that part of our contingency is functioning as planned.

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From her vantage point atop the Bell Tower of the Western Merchant's Guild, Angelica observed the entire scene with the unwavering focus of a predator. Her shadow suit absorbed the afternoon light, rendering her practically invisible against the tower's weathered stonework. Only her eyes moved, tracking each player in the unfolding drama below with clinical precision.

The Sun Brigade's formation, the positioning of their captain, the strategic placement of archers on adjacent bridges—she catalogued every detail automatically, her trained mind converting observations into tactical assessments without conscious effort.

There taking no chances, she noted as she counted the backup forces stationed at both ends of the bridge. This isn't a routine detention; it's a military operation disguised as legal procedure.

When Salomonis and his companions were escorted back toward the palace, Angelica finally permitted herself to move, muscles uncoiling from their statue-like stillness. Her hand brushed the amulet at her throat—a creation of Serphina's that would alert her sister if she were in danger during the mission.

Protocol dictates immediate reporting, she reminded herself. Yet observation should continue to gather complete intelligence.

Her internal debate lasted precisely three seconds before training won out over instinct. David needed to know immediately—not just about Salomonis's detention, but about the implications for their larger plans. The timetable had just accelerated drastically.

For three heartbeats, Angelica fell freely, the wind rushing past her face as the ground raced up to meet her. At precisely the calculated moment, she twisted midair, her shadow suit responding to her intent by extending wing-like projections that caught the air currents. The fabric rippled, transforming kinetic energy into directional momentum that carried her toward the adjacent building's roof.

She landed in a controlled roll, transitioning immediately into a sprint that carried her across the rooftop and into a leap toward the next structure. Each movement flowed into the next with inhuman grace—the result of natural talent honed through years of service as an executioner for the De Gor Le Rosa branch.

Angelica moved through Valemir like a wind-borne shadow, utilizing techniques perfected during her time eliminating targets deemed threats to the main house. The shadow arts of the De Gors had been her life since childhood, their secrets passed down through generations of the family's most trusted enforcers.

Where solid obstacles presented themselves, she melded with existing shadows, passing through them as though reality briefly thinned at her touch—an advanced technique that had made her the best even among her fellow executioners. When direct paths were unavailable, she utilized momentum conservation principles that had become second nature after countless missions requiring absolute stealth.

As she navigated the city with increasing urgency, Angelica's thoughts returned to the confrontation she had witnessed. Why was Death Sun himself involved? Her previous house's intelligence had extensively documented Duk Villantias—the Sword of the Empress, Master of Her Radiance's defense forces—a man who typically appeared only for matters of imperial security or direct threats to the crown. To see him personally restraining and escorting the Minister back to the palace like a common criminal sent ice through her veins.

Something was deeply wrong. She had been scheduled to receive critical intelligence from Salomonis about internal court affairs, information that David needed to navigate the upcoming political landscape. But seeing the Minister confronted so publicly, surrounded by the Sun Brigade and commanded by Death Sun himself—this changed everything. Their timetable would need to be completely reconsidered.

Executing a particularly challenging maneuver between buildings separated by a main thoroughfare, Angelica pushed herself harder. Whatever had prompted such a dramatic response from the imperial forces placed Salomonis in grave danger, and by extension, jeopardized all their carefully laid plans.

Her journey continued with single-minded purpose, each step carrying her closer to David and the knowledge that would reshape their strategy entirely. Behind her, the sun began its slow descent toward the horizon, casting longer shadows across the city—shadows that seemed to reach toward the palace like accusing fingers.

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