No More Pain For This Villain. - #225 - 225 Kingdom's Secret.

[Third Person View]

Aron’s nose flared as he tried to suppress his anger, clenching his teeth with his form scraping on the empty plate in front of him.

“Keep utensils down if you are done with eating,” Adiel Velcrow said, looking at Aron, who sat farthest from the dinner table.

“What is the meaning of this?” Aron questioned, sweeping his eyes across everyone present at the table.

“What?” Adiel gave him a brow.

Despite being the biological father of Aron, he was never close to him in actuality… well, who would be close to the child born out of the concubine’s womb?

“You said that I will not be considered as a successor for the throne, but these two would be?” He looked at the two figures sitting closest to his father.

“Yeah,” Adiel picked up a piece of meat on his plate.

“That’s some bullshit; I am the eldest.” He growled at the king.

A soldier standing behind clenched the handle of the hilt.

“You and I, we both know that no one is accepting you as a monarch of this Empire,” he said calmly.

“Whose fault do you think this is?” Aron’s words made no sense to anyone other than him and Adiel.

Adiel’s eyes shook a bit as he remembered what Aron was trying to say.

This all started when Aron was called back to the royal palace on short notice. He didn’t want to come but was forced to oblige.

He came back and saw his siblings… step-siblings.

Eve, his sister, and Ele, his brother, were twins and three years younger than him.

From a young age, they all didn’t get along quite well because of obvious reasons, but there was never a mention that Aron won’t even be considered as a candidate to succeed the throne.

Like he knew that no one was in favor, but the fact that he won’t be able to even try made him irritated.

“With your dirty hands, I don’t think you should even be allowed near the crown.” Finishing her food, Eve said.

Just like everyone, he had that signature red fiery hair with a baby face and brown eyes. Her personality was quite haughty and crass towards Aron.

“Shut your trap,” Aron took a moment before he said.

“Don’t talk like that to my daughter,” Adiel pointed a cutlery knife towards Aron as the pressure of his presence weighed down on everyone in the room.

“And what about me then! Am I not your blood!” He was… hurt.

“No, you are not.” Adiel’s eyes did not lie, and they were cold towards Aron.

“Liar! This is all because of you! How about you tell me about that plac-” his words were caught in his throat as a huge current of wind hit him, and he went hurtling backward and hit the wall behind him.

A small crack on the wall and a few crunchy sounds indicated that Aron broke some of his bones.

Adiel’s robe whipped as he strode towards the fallen Aron, who was struggling to get up.

He walked towards him and-

Thud*

His boot clasped on Aron’s chest and pushed him to the floor.

Everyone in the room has seen the king treat the prince cruelly, but this was the first time he had used strength on him.

But not one dared to step- why would they? Nobody felt even a shred of sympathy.

Who would feel bad for such a disgusting existence?

Adiel looked at Aron who shook under his foot and said, “You do not say a word about it to me.” His voice was low so only Aron and Adiel could hear it.

Adiel’s eyes gleamed with icy intensity as he continued, “You are not fit to question or challenge me. Your existence is a stain on this royal lineage, a product of a mistake that should never have happened.”

Aron struggled to speak, gasping for breath under the oppressive weight of his father’s foot. The room remained eerily silent, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

Adiel leaned down, his face inches from Aron’s. “I tolerated your presence because of the ties of blood, but don’t push me, Aron. I can make your life even more unbearable.”

With a dismissive gesture, Adiel released his hold on Aron, allowing him to crumple to the floor. The prince’s pride wounded, he glared at his father, a mix of hatred and defiance in his eyes.

Adiel turned away without a second glance, leaving Aron nursing his injuries on the cold floor. The dinner table, once a place for family gatherings, now bore witness to a fracture that seemed irreparable. The tension lingered in the air, a suffocating reminder of the power dynamics within the royal family.

But there was another person who didn’t mind all this and kept eating.

Not a single line of concern watched her face; she kept her hand going up and down from her plate to her mouth.

Aron looked at this epitome of a girl that his father brought home and told everyone that she’s one of the relatives.

Her platinum blond hair and azure eyes were quite distinct from Velcrow bloodlines features.

Her name was Vexa; she came and joined the imperial academy too—just a year below him.

A second year, she’s quite weird as she mostly keeps quiet, and for some reason, she too was called back from the academy to attend this—

Great Family dinner.

It’s been quite a while since Aron’s been losing this thin line between reality and nightmare.

Aron struggled to his feet, glowering at his father’s retreating figure. The pain in his chest and the humiliation stung, but he couldn’t afford to show weakness. Vexa continued eating as if nothing happened, her expression unreadable.

“Are you alright, Aron?” Eve’s mocking voice cut through the tense atmosphere.

Aron ignored her, choosing to focus on his father’s unjust actions. This wasn’t just about the succession; it was personal. Adiel’s disdain for him had reached a new level.

Adiel Velcrow, the king, walked out of the dining hall, leaving the fractured family behind. Aron followed, determined to confront the patriarch and demand answers.

As Aron stepped into the corridor, the grandeur of the royal palace surrounded him. The walls whispered centuries-old secrets, and the chandeliers overhead cast a dim glow. He quickened his pace, catching up to Adiel.

“We need to talk,” Aron demanded, his voice carrying a mix of frustration and desperation.

Adiel turned to face him, his gaze colder than the stone walls of the palace. “What is there to talk about, Aron? You are not worthy to inherit the throne.”

Aron clenched his fists, the pain in his chest intensifying. “What do I have to do to prove that I am?”

Adiel’s eyes flickered with a momentary disturbance, but he quickly regained composure. “That’s impossible; you are already a lost cause.”

The cryptic response fueled Aron’s anger. “Tell me! Whatever you say! Tell me what I have to do for that damn throne!”

There was a pause… a long one, and tension was high.

Adiel’s lips curved into a disdainful smile. “Mage’s Gambit, win it.”

The grand corridor echoed with the fading footsteps of the king. Aron knew that the secrets buried within the royal palace ran deeper than he could have imagined.

And with every unanswered question, the thin line between reality and nightmare blurred further for Aron.

***

Adiel Velcrow descended into the heart of the royal palace, following the winding stone staircases that led to an underground labyrinth unknown to most. The air grew colder with each step, and the torches flickered ominously, casting dancing shadows on the damp walls.

As he reached the lowest level, a dimly lit corridor extended before him. The faint sound of dripping water echoed through the passages, creating an eerie atmosphere. The secret dungeon, hidden beneath the opulence of the palace, held the kingdom’s darkest secrets.

Adiel’s footsteps reverberated as he walked through the damp corridor. The air felt heavy with the weight of forgotten history. Rusty iron doors lined the narrow passage, each leading to a different chamber of secrets.

Approaching the end of the corridor, Adiel reached a massive iron door, its surface adorned with intricate engravings. With a wave of his hand, the door creaked open, revealing a chamber of shadows and silence. The only light emanated from a single flickering torch mounted on the wall.

At the center of the room stood a twisted throne, an ancient artifact with ominous carvings depicting scenes of suffering and despair. Adiel approached it with an air of familiarity, his fingers tracing the grotesque reliefs as memories of the past resurfaced.

His gaze shifted to the deepest part of the dungeon, where a solitary prison cell awaited. The flickering torchlight barely reached the cell, shrouding it in darkness. Adiel’s eyes glinted with a mix of intrest and determination.

The prison cell held a figure huddled in the shadows, unseen and unheard for years. Chains clinked against cold stone as the prisoner stirred, a feeble acknowledgment of Adiel’s presence. The air within the cell held a lingering sense of despair, a testament to the time spent in isolation.

Adiel’s voice cut through the silence, “Hey….. Demon.”

The prisoner, eyes sunken and body frail, slowly rose from the cold ground. Chains dragged across the floor as the figure staggered toward the cell door. With a wave of Adiel’s hand, the door swung open, revealing the face of a man once considered a threat to the throne.

The prisoner squinted against the sudden light, his features etched with the weariness of captivity. His eyes, once filled with defiance, now held a glimmer of something resembling submission.

Adiel regarded him with a cold detachment. “Tell me about….No Man’s Land.”

The prisoner’s gaze met Adiel’s, a spark of recognition flickering in the depths of his haunted eyes. The memories of past conflicts and shattered alliances played out in the silent exchange.

Adiel turned to leave the underground dungeon, the prisoner hesitated for a moment before following. The chains that bound him clinked with each step, echoing the weight of the choices that led to this.

[A/N: Wait! How’d king know about the demons before anyone else!!!??]