Chapter 113: Chapter 113: The Gathering of Kings

Chapter 113: The Gathering of Kings

The massive brass gates of the Iron Estate swung open to welcome the apex predators of the continent.

The Grand Hall was a cavernous masterpiece of obsidian and polished steel.

King Regent Hardsteel sat at the head of the massive circular table, his mechanical eye whirring softly as the delegations filed into the room.

Archduke Vladis Crimson arrived first. The ancient vampire adjusted his velvet cuffs, his crimson eyes sweeping over the exposed pipes and humming machinery with aristocratic disgust. He viewed the kingdom of iron and steam as a noisy, filthy nuisance.

Warlord Bloodfang stomped into the room next. The massive Orc chieftain carried a heavily notched battleaxe strapped to his broad back. He immediately locked eyes with High Lord Malphas.

The towering, volcanic demon was already seated, his skin practically smoldering against the obsidian chair. The two martial kings traded a look of pure, unspoken violence.

Matriarch Vespera glided in from the southern archway. The Dark Elven ruler wore an elegant gown woven from living shadows. She looked at the other rulers as if they were mere cattle waiting to be slaughtered.

Deep beneath the Grand Hall, the air was cool and smelled faintly of ozone.

I stood in the center of the subterranean control room. A massive wall of monitors illuminated the bunker in a pale blue light.

Nyssa sat at the primary console, her fingers flying across the runic keyboards. She had deployed a hidden network of Arcane Eyes throughout the entire palace.

"They are all seated," Nyssa reported, adjusting her new computational visor.

"Mana signatures are incredibly dense. The Archduke is hiding a spatial blade in his cane. The Warlord has three defensive totems woven into his beard."

Silas stood in the shadows of the corner, his gravelly voice filled with grim satisfaction.

"And the Zenith delegation?"

I adjusted the dial on the radio receiver I had built. The static cleared, picking up the hidden microphones scattered across the Grand Hall.

"They just walked in," I said.

On the center monitor, Valerius Thorne entered the room. Seraphina Thorne walked on his right, and Lord Sylas Vane walked on his left.

The Incubus Lord wore a pristine white suit, looking entirely too arrogant for a man walking into a trap.

He took his seat opposite Hardsteel. I watched closely as Valerius closed his eyes for a fraction of a second.

He was trying to ping the mental tethers he had planted on the palace staff months ago. He expected to find his sleeper agents ready to poison the wine or cause a massive distraction.

He found absolute nothingness.

I watched the subtle, terrifying realization wash over the Incubus Lord’s face. His eyes snapped open. He looked at Seraphina, giving a microscopic shake of his head.

His spies were gone. His advantage was completely erased. For the first time in his pampered life, Valerius Thorne was entirely blind in enemy territory.

Upstairs, the cultural clash was already reaching a boiling point.

"If the host does not arrive soon," Archduke Crimson drawled, examining his sharp nails, "I might have to snack on one of these foul smelling beastmen."

Bloodfang slammed his fist on the table. The stone cracked under his sheer physical strength. "Try it, leech. I will rip your fangs out and wear them as a necklace."

"Both of you are loud and pathetic," Matriarch Vespera whispered. Her voice carried a venomous magic that made the air grow freezing cold.

The chaotic shouting was instantly silenced by a sound that shook the very foundations of the Iron Estate.

The heavy double doors at the top of the grand staircase violently exploded open.

I stepped out of the shadows and onto the landing.

Rolf, Kaelith, and Lysandra flanked me perfectly. All four of us wore our crisp, dark military coats draped over the humming, fully stabilized Ironclad armor.

We did not just walk into the room. We imposed our existence upon it.

The combined pressure of four Level 50 C-Grade cores flooded the Grand Hall like a tidal wave.

The physical weight of my newly consolidated Law of Emotional Radiance made the air simultaneously freeze and boil.

The sheer, suffocating authority radiating from my body forced the arguing monarchs back into their chairs.

Archduke Crimson gripped his cane, his eyes wide with sudden shock.

Warlord Bloodfang completely forgot his anger, his jaw going slack at the sight of Rolf’s towering, gunmetal scaled armor.

Matriarch Vespera froze entirely, her breath catching in her throat as she locked eyes with a heavily armored, lethal Kaelith.

I walked slowly down the marble staircase. The heavy metallic thud of my boots echoed in the absolutely silent room.

My crimson and gold carapace shifted flawlessly with every movement, the brass Vanguard Arm glowing with a terrifying internal heat.

I reached the floor and completely bypassed the empty chair reserved for me at the head of the table.

I walked straight toward the Zenith Academy delegation.

Seraphina Thorne reached for her rapier, but the apocalyptic heat radiating from my armor forced her hand back.

Valerius stared up at me, his perfect facade completely shattered by the sheer gravity of my presence.

I stopped directly behind Lord Sylas Vane. The High Elven patriarch was sweating profusely under his fine silk robes.

I reached into my coat and pulled out a heavy, leather bound ledger. I slammed it down onto the obsidian table right in front of Valerius Thorne. The loud crack made half the delegates flinch in their seats.

"Before we discuss treaties, borders, or trade," I stated. My baritone voice was amplified by the armor, resonating with absolute, sovereign command.

I tapped the ledger with my brass finger. It was the exact book we had recovered from the underground vault, filled with undeniable proof.

"The Zenith Academy is going to answer for an act of unprovoked war. This ledger proves House Vane funded the Ashen Maw cult to attack my territory."

I leaned down, my glowing red eyes locking onto Valerius Thorne’s panicked face.

"Welcome to my forge, Valerius. The doors are locked, and it is time to pay your debts."