Emperor's Reckoning



As Princess Yala made her way out of Astra Arcane, the twilight cast an otherworldly glow upon her. She moved with the grace and poise befitting her royal status, the dutiful mob of individuals forming a protective barrier around her, their faces still filled with pride and determination.

The mob surrounding Princess Yala exhibited a palpable air of arrogance as they protected her. Cloaked in dark, flowing robes or adorned in intricately designed armor, they projected an aura of superiority. Some carried staves engraved with mysterious runes, subtly flaunting their prowess in magic.

Onlookers in the bustling streets observed this peculiar entourage with a mix of awe and intrigue. Concealed behind ornate masks, the expressions of the mob were inscrutable, but their haughty demeanor was evident. The crowd instinctively parted to allow their passage, but the arrogance of the protectors was hard to miss.

Whispers of speculation swept through the spectators as they attempted to decipher the enigma that was Princess Yala's protection. The mob's overbearing presence and their evident pride suggested a force that was well-prepared and fiercely loyal to their princess. Yet, their haughty expressions only added to the mystique surrounding the princess and her enigmatic journey into the night.

Whispers flitted through the onlookers like nervous butterflies, carrying tales of the mysterious masked man who dared to challenge Princess Yala's claim on the enigmatic tome.

"He's got guts, I'll give him that," remarked an elderly gentleman, peering over the rim of his spectacles.

"I heard he's a renowned artifact hunter," chimed in a young woman, her eyes glinting with excitement. "Word has it that he's after that tome, no matter the cost."

A wizened merchant added, "He lost the bid, but mark my words, he won't give up easily. Desperate folks do desperate things."

There were knowing nods and speculative glances exchanged, with the general consensus implying that this masked man might resort to daring feats to snatch the coveted tome from the princess's grasp. The allure of a potential daring heist had captured the imagination of the crowd, leaving an air of anticipation and mystery lingering in the night.

The mob, cloaked in a sense of superiority, paraded around Princess Yala as if they were her loyal knights. Their postures exuded an air of arrogance and confidence, as if daring anyone to challenge the notion that they were the chosen guardians of the princess.

A strapping man, with a glint of overconfidence in his eyes, declared, "Fear not, Princess Yala. We shall ensure your safety, for no harm can befall you under our watchful eyes."

Another, with a proud stance, added, "Indeed, the streets outside shall tremble at the mere sight of us. None would dare defy the wishes of the princess."

Onlookers observed the scene with varying levels of amusement and skepticism. Some couldn't help but chuckle at the bravado displayed by the mob, while others exchanged incredulous glances. It was clear to many that this bravado was a façade, a desperate attempt to prove their worth to the princess, though the air around them was thick with arrogance.

The princess played along, basking in the charade of protection. She wore a small smile, keeping her poise regal and composed as the mob continued their theatrics. She subtly encouraged their pride, aware that it would serve her purpose well.

"Thank you, kind sirs," she said graciously, her voice tinged with playful admiration. "I feel safer already with such valiant protectors by my side."

The mob preened under her acknowledgment, their chests puffing out as if they'd already achieved a great triumph. They walked with exaggerated confidence, heads held high, relishing the imagined awe and fear they were evoking from the onlookers.

The crowd continued to watch, some still amused, others shaking their heads in disbelief at the spectacle. A few exchanged knowing glances, suspecting that this bravado wouldn't hold up under true pressure, but enough for the masked man, after all, nobody but a small group of insane cultivators would dare to offend such a figure. The princess, however, maintained her grace, keenly observing the unfolding drama and contemplating her next move.

Yala furrowed her brows inwardly as they strolled around, keeping an eye out for any potential opening or excitement. However, to her surprise, nothing seemed to transpire. There were no sudden challenges, no attempts to snatch the tome, no dramatic confrontations.

This lack of action puzzled her. She had expected at least a subtle attempt from the masked man who had bid so fervently for the mysterious book. Was he waiting for a more opportune moment? Or had he truly given up on acquiring the tome?

As the night descended and the stars emerged, casting a quiet serenity over the town, Princess Yala decided to retire to the inn she had reserved for her stay. However, the mob, relentless in their dedication, trailed closely. They were determined to stand guard right outside her room, vigilant in their duty to protect her.

"I appreciate your concern for my safety," Yala gracefully spoke, her voice carrying the weight of gratitude. "But truly, this inn is more than secure for the night. I need my rest."

One among the vigilant group, a steadfast mob member, insisted with unwavering dedication. "We cannot risk any danger befalling you, Princess. Our duty is to protect you at all costs."

"Rest assured," another chimed in, echoing their collective sentiment. "We will keep a close watch. You'll be safe."

Yala, appreciative yet desiring her privacy, found a compromise. "Very well, but I insist on my privacy. Please, let me retire for the night without disturbance."

"Of course, Princess. We'll stand guard outside, but we won't intrude on your privacy," they assured her, showing respect for her wish.

With a nod of gratitude, Yala accepted their compromise.

But as she stood right in front of her room, a wave of unease permeated out from it. The air felt heavy, pregnant with an inexplicable tension that sent shivers down Yala's spine. She hesitated, her hand hovering over the doorknob, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. It was an unsettling feeling, one she couldn't quite place.

When she opened the door, her eyes widened. There he was, the masked man leisurely awaiting her presence as he sat by the window. A smirk played on his lips, and his friends stood by his side.

A hand pushed her inside, and she stumbled on the floor. Kesya locked the door from the inside before leaning her back on it.

The princess looked up with her pupils revealing a glimmer.

"The battle ends here," Lyon said, his tone dripping with a peculiar mix of mischief and confidence. Yala's mind raced, trying to fathom how he had managed to get in. It was clear she had underestimated this man and his audacity.