A few hours after sunrise, the church's highest-ranking officials were summoned to the grand halls of the royal palace. The air hung heavy with unease, each step toward the throne a march into the unknown and the questions that promised no easy answers.
Upon entering the grand chamber, Haraza, the Head Archbishop, led the way, flanked by the other archbishops: Robin, Benjamin, Lucas, and Andrew. Behind them followed Priest Henry, Anthony, and finally Ezra. These eight were the highest-ranking leaders of the church, wielding authority over the entire empire's faith and sanctuaries.
As they stepped further into the grand hall, their eyes swept across the gathering—a sea of ministers, nobles, and the entire representative council, all summoned to bear witness. The air was thick with tension, the murmurs of anticipation echoing off the marble walls and high, arched ceilings.
Hazara's gaze flicked over the assembled figures, but one presence was glaringly absent. His brow furrowed as unease crept into his thoughts.
'So, Leo is not here yet,' he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible. Was this deliberate, he wondered? A show of power, perhaps, to remind them of their place while they waited for his grand entrance? Or was there something more to his absence—a deeper game being played that Hazara had yet to see?
His eyes scanned the room again, noting the uneasy shuffles of the nobles and the quiet exchanges between ministers. The representative council, too, looked wary, as if they sensed the gravity of what was to come.
Haraza tightened his grip on the ceremonial staff he carried, its weight grounding him as his thoughts swirled. 'Whatever Leo intends, it's far from ordinary,' he thought. The absence of the Knight King was an enigma, and enigma often spelled danger."
A murmur rippled through the priests as they exchanged quiet words, their voices a faint hum in the vast throne room. The air was thick with unease and expectation, every soul present fixating on the towering, intricately designed royal doors. The golden inlays and carved sigils of the empire gleamed faintly in the dim light, as if alive with the promise of what lay beyond.
Suddenly, a deep, resonant creak broke through the murmurs as the massive doors began to open, their sheer weight groaning against the silence. All eyes turned as the chamber filled with the sound, an unspoken signal that time itself seemed to hold its breath.
A Royal Guard stepped forward, his voice ringing out with unwavering authority, cutting through the tension like a blade:
" His Majesty, Emperor Leo Garmini, has arrived!"
Every head in the room turned as Leo entered, his presence commanding immediate respect and awe. He strode into the hall clad in gleaming white armor, the intricate red accents tracing along the plates highlighting the craftsmanship and power of his station. The armor's structured design was unmistakably knightly, exuding both strength and nobility.
A flowing red cape was draped over one shoulder, the fabric catching the faint draft in the chamber, creating an almost ethereal aura around him. Each step he took echoed through the room, the sound deliberate and steady, like the march of fate itself.
His expression was calm but resolute, his piercing gaze sweeping across the assembled ministers, nobles, priests, and council members. The weight of his presence silenced even the faintest whisper. The light streaming through the stained-glass windows caught on his armor, casting radiant reflections that seemed to frame him as something more than mortal—a leader, a warrior, and a king destined to command.
Leo stopped before the throne, the imperial seat of power looming behind him like a testament to the legacy he now carried. He stood tall, his voice still unspoken, yet his presence alone was louder than any proclamation.
Leo ascended to his throne with an air of unshakable authority. As he sat, his gaze swept over the room, piercing through the bowed heads of ministers, nobles, and priests alike. The chamber was silent, every breath held in anticipation.
"Raise your heads," Leo commanded, his voice resonating with power.
At once, the assembly obeyed, lifting their gazes to meet the emperor's. His presence was undeniable, his words carrying the weight of a king who expected no less than absolute respect.
"We are at war, and this crisis defines our lives," Leo declared, his voice firm and unwavering. "Today, I have called you all here because a new threat is rising right under our noses."
He turned sharply. "Kaylor! Bring the reports," he commanded, his tone brimming with authority.
A royal knight stepped forward, distributing report papers to everyone in the chamber, including the Archbishop. The rustle of parchment filled the room as the assembly began scrutinizing the contents, their expressions shifting between curiosity and concern.
After reviewing the reports, Archbishop Hazara was the first to act. "Your Majesty! You are making a grave mistake! We would never issue an order so brutal and dark!"
"Oh, so I've made a mistake, have I? Leo, repeat that again!" The archbishop straightened, his resolve unshaken. "Do you think I, your king, have erred?" He paused, his gaze sharp as steel. "Yes, I am human, and I can make mistakes. But now, I will show you all something that will leave no room for doubt. Knights, bring the prisoner here! They will reveal everything we need to know!"
After the knights brought the pastor forward, all eyes turned toward him. A few of the nobles seemed to recognize him. "Hey, do you see that? It's him," one of the nobles whispered.
Leo's eyes blazed with an intensity that silenced the room, his presence radiating an authority that felt almost tangible. His jaw tightened, and the weight of his fury hung heavy in the air, suffocating any attempt at denial. He stepped forward, slow and deliberate, like a storm gathering on the horizon.
"Who," he began, his voice low and cold, the kind of quiet that promised destruction, "was behind those experiments?"
The words struck like thunder, reverberating through the room. Every syllable dripped with a controlled rage that seemed more dangerous than outright fury. His gaze bore into them, unyielding, daring anyone to look away, and the silence that followed was deafening—a silence that demanded answers, no matter how painful they might be.
"Y-Your Majestic Grace…" the pastor stammered, his voice trembling like a fragile thread on the verge of snapping. His knees buckled, and he fell prostrate to the ground, pressing his forehead to the cold stone floor as if hoping the earth itself might swallow him.
"W-we… we truly don't know who is behind this…" he managed, his words faltering as terror gripped his throat. "W-we are… the ones conducting the experiments… but… but we swear, the mastermind—"
"Silence!"
Leo's voice erupted like a thunderclap, the force of his rage reverberating through the chamber. His towering figure loomed over the crumpled pastor, casting a shadow so vast it seemed to extinguish the light itself. The air grew heavy, thick with tension, and every soul present felt the weight of his fury pressing against their chests.
"You dare bow your head to the ground yet claim ignorance?" Leo's words cut through the silence like a blade, each syllable sharp and unforgiving. "You kneel here, drenched in the blood of your own deeds, and yet you think cowardice will shield you from judgment?"
The pastor quivered violently, tears streaming down his face in rivulets, his lips parting to plead, though no sound emerged. His very breath seemed caught in the suffocating grip of Leo's wrath.
"Look at me," Leo commanded, his voice now low and eerily calm, the quiet hum of a storm waiting to unleash its fury.
The pastor hesitated, his body trembling like a leaf in the wind. Slowly, as though every movement might spell his doom, he lifted his tear-streaked face. His wide, terrified eyes met Leo's gaze—and froze.
Leo's eyes had begun to glow, an ominous, unnatural yellow light radiating from their depths. Power surged through him, rippling through the air like waves of heat, crashing against everyone in the room. His very presence seemed to expand, an all-encompassing force that demanded submission. His influence spilled out like a tidal wave, consuming everything in its path.
"You will tell me everything," Leo declared, his voice an unrelenting force of will. "Every whisper, every shadow, every unseen hand that guided you into this darkness. Speak the truth, or I will reach into the depths of your soul and rip it from you myself."
The pastor's eyes glazed over, the light within them extinguished as though snuffed out by an unseen force. They became hollow, lifeless orbs that stared blankly ahead, devoid of any spark of humanity. His trembling ceased, replaced by an eerie stillness, and his head drooped forward, bowing slightly as if some unseen weight now rested heavily upon him.
The room grew colder, the oppressive silence thick with unease. Leo's glowing yellow gaze remained locked on the man, his power rippling through the air like a predator circling its prey.
"You feel it, don't you?" Leo's voice was quiet now, almost a whisper, yet it carried the weight of a thousand storms. "The truth clawing its way to the surface. You cannot hide it—not from me."
The lifeless pastor let out a shallow, almost mechanical breath. His lips parted, but no sound emerged, as if the truth Leo demanded struggled to free itself from the prison of his mind.
Leo stepped closer, the glow in his eyes intensifying, and raised a hand as though to draw the confession from the depths of the man's broken soul. "Speak," he commanded, his voice resonating with an otherworldly power. "Let the shadows that bind your mind unravel, or be consumed by them entirely."
The pastor's body shuddered, his hollow gaze twitching slightly as if something deep within fought to obey. The tension in the room grew unbearable, and all present waited, frozen, for the moment the truth would either emerge—or the pastor's very essence would crumble under Leo's relentless might.
Hazara took a step back, his usually sharp eyes clouded with disbelief. His voice was a low mumble, but it carried across the room like a blade. "No... There's no way. A human can't use Influence like that. That's... vampire magic."
Leo stood still, his shadow stretching unnaturally across the flickering candlelight. He tilted his head slightly, the faintest hint of a smile creeping onto his face. But he said nothing, letting the weight of Hazara's realization hang in the air.
Leo's voice cut through the silence like a blade, cold and unrelenting. "Now, who ordered you?" His gaze locked onto the trembling pastor, who flinched as though struck.
The pastor's lips quivered, his hollow eyes darting around the room as if seeking an escape. Finally, he choked out the words, his voice barely audible. "The church... the higher-ups ordered me to do those things."
A murmur spread through the room, disbelief mingling with fear. Leo's expression darkened, his power pressing down on the room like a storm about to break. "The higher-ups," he repeated slowly, his tone laced with menace. "Which are those things they ordered?
To collect the living… and that substance," the pastor murmured, his voice hollow and drained of life. "They said it must be… inserted into their bodies… using holy blessings." He paused, trembling. "They even made me… dig graves… to gather samples… from the dead."
"Oh! How do people end up dying? I suppose there's no need for you to answer that. But how do the dead bodies get inside? Tell me, who gave the order?" Leo demanded, his cold eyes now fixed on Hazara.
Immediately, Haraza snapped, his voice rising in anger. "This is ridiculous! We never ordered him! Tell me, who the hell gave you that order?!" His tone was sharp and commanding, each word cutting through the tense silence, echoing off the walls.
Hearing Haraza, Prime Minister Charlotte shot back, her voice laced with indignation. "You! How dare you raise your voice when the emperor is present!"
Leo turned his focus back to the pastor, his gaze sharp and unwavering. "Who exactly gave you the order?" he asked, a chuckle escaping his lips, though it carried a dangerous edge beneath the surface.
The pastor, then replied, "I don't know."
Upon hearing this, Leo's expression shifted to one of deep disappointment. Without a word, he immediately canceled the influence skill, the air growing heavier with the weight of his disapproval.
"I told you, Knight King, it must be a mistake!" Hazara said, his voice fierce with conviction. "This is the work of demons! The pastor has become a follower of their god! He should be killed—by the name of our gods!"
Suddenly, the heavy royal doors of the throne room flew open, and a knight stormed in, his breath ragged from haste. Without waiting for a command, he blurted out, his voice echoing through the tense silence, "Someone has arrived from the Red Moon Empire!"
The words struck the room like a bolt of lightning. Every eye in the chamber widened with shock, some filled with suspicion, others with fear. Only a few, however, remained eerily calm, their expressions unreadable, as if they had been expecting this very moment.