As Wolfram stepped into Kaiser Anno's grand throne room, he was immediately struck by the sheer size of the hall. The ceiling loomed high above, its stone walls adorned with banners and tapestries from battles long past. At the far end, seated on his ornate throne, was Kaiser Anno, but Wolfram's eyes were drawn to something else.
In front of the Kaiser, resting heavily on the ground, was a battle axe—a weapon that instantly brought back memories. It was the very same axe Kaiser Anno had gifted him during the celebration of Timurtaş's birthday in Constantinople. The axe with which Wolfram had cut down the Teutonic Knight's commander, believing at the time that his father was dead and the responsibility of command had fallen squarely on his shoulders.
Now, as Wolfram walked slowly toward Kaiser Anno, the emperor's gaze was fixated on the axe. He didn't move, didn't acknowledge Wolfram's approach, his expression one of deep thought and sadness. The silence in the room was deafening, and Wolfram felt the weight of it pressing down on him. When he finally stopped before the throne, there was no greeting, no warm reunion. Instead, the Kaiser spoke without looking up, his voice low and tinged with disappointment.
"Is this how you wield your strength?" Kaiser Anno asked, his eyes still locked on the axe, his tone cold and accusatory. "Is this how you would rule? With ruthlessness and brute force ? Have you turned into one of them, warmongers with no regard for honor or law? Is this what has become of you?"
The words hit Wolfram like a blow to the chest. His heart raced as he realized what the Kaiser was referring to—the death of the Teutonic Knight commander. At that moment, Wolfram had believed his father, Prince Hesso, was dead. In his grief and belief that he was now the rightful commander, he had executed the knight. But now, standing here, with his father still alive, he knew the implications of his actions. He had overstepped, acted on false assumptions. It was a difficult truth to face.
The axe before Kaiser Anno was a symbol not only of that moment but of everything that had followed—of Wolfram's struggle, his decisions, and the heavy weight of leadership thrust upon him. And now, with his father alive, the consequences of his actions seemed even more dire.
Wolfram's fists clenched at his sides, his jaw tight as he stared at the Kaiser. The old man's words stung deep, cutting into wounds Wolfram had tried to ignore for so long. The accusation of becoming like the Turks, of dishonoring the empire's values, infuriated him. Kaiser Anno's condemnation felt personal, unfair, and it lit a fire in Wolfram that had long been smoldering.
Wolfram sighed deeply, letting out the pent-up frustration that had been building for years. He had reached his limit with the accusations, the misunderstandings, and the weight of expectations placed upon him. In that moment, he decided he no longer cared about pleasing anyone, no longer cared about explaining himself to those who didn't understand the life he had lived.
"What does it matter anymore?" he thought to himself as he began to speak, his voice calm but laced with exhaustion.
"For ten years, I've been training under Kara, learning the ways of the Tarkan warriors. And in those ten years, more has happened to me than I can even put into words. There were times they handed me a message and gave me three horses, telling me to deliver it to some distant place. Other times, I was out hunting from the back of a horse, or spending weeks on end riding from one camp to another. I found myself in a world I barely understood, far from the place I was born, far from everything I knew, among people who spoke a different language, lived by different rules."
Wolfram paused, his eyes hardening as he recalled those years of isolation and adaptation. "I spent so much time there that I learned to understand the Turkish dialects the other nomads spoke. Do you know what that means?" he asked, his voice gaining strength. "Living in Turk-il, the world is so different—their concerns, their struggles, their rules are different. I became part of that world. I was a soldier under Kara's command, fighting on the Western border, defending against the invasion led by Duke Janusz. I fought with 20,000 Hunnic riders at my side, and we battled them. It was a brutal war… and in the end, Kara fell. Died in my arms"
At these words, Kaiser Anno finally looked up from the axe, his eyes locking onto Wolfram's for the first time since the conversation began. There was a flicker of something—shock, maybe disbelief—in the old emperor's eyes.
"What?" Kaiser Anno exclaimed, his voice hoarse. He stood from his throne, taking several quick steps toward Wolfram. His hands reached out, gripping Wolfram's shoulders tightly. "What did you say? That devil—he's dead? Kara is dead?"
Wolfram held his gaze, his expression unflinching. "He didn't die by my hand," Wolfram clarified, his voice steady. "But yes, he died in my arms. He was struck by many arrows during the battle, and he bled out, right there… in my hands."
The Kaiser seemed almost indifferent to the details of how Kara had died. His focus was solely on the fact that the legendary warrior was no more. "What does it matter?" Kaiser Anno said, waving his hand dismissively. "In your hands or by your hand, it makes no difference. The important thing is that he's dead. This is incredible news."
Despite his earlier anger toward Wolfram, Kaiser Anno's face brightened, a rare smile crossing his lips. For a moment, the old emperor seemed almost joyful, as if a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders. "No matter what you've done," Anno continued, his voice softer now, "at the end of the day, both my son and my grandson are standing before me. And I see now… you've grown into a man, a strong one."
The sudden shift in Anno's demeanor left Wolfram momentarily speechless. The harsh words, the accusations from earlier, seemed to fade away as the Kaiser stood before him, smiling like a proud grandfather.
Wolfram, still processing the moment, felt the tension in the room ease, though the memories of the past years continued to weigh heavily on him. Despite Anno's praise, the pain of what had transpired—Kara's death, the battles, the decisions he had made—lingered like a shadow over his heart. Yet now, standing before the Kaiser, he felt the slightest glimmer of relief. Perhaps, just perhaps, things were beginning to change.
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Wolfram stood a little taller, feeling the full weight of his journey behind him, ready to face whatever might come next.
Kaiser Anno continued, his gaze fixed intently on Wolfram. "And what of the others from the battle? King Janusz, Duke Halfdan, King Igor and the rest? Are they your prisoners? Where are they now? These are important figures in their realms, Wolfram. Keeping them alive could have served you well in the future."
Wolfram met the Kaiser's eyes with a steady, unwavering look. His voice was calm, controlled, as he answered, "No. They're not alive. I took their lives myself."
At this, Kaiser Anno's eyes widened in shock, his face contorting with disbelief. "What? You fool! Why did you kill them? Have you lost your mind? These were some of the most powerful rulers in the region! Keeping them alive could have benefited you greatly. Why in the world would you do such a thing?"
Wolfram, unshaken, spoke with a quiet confidence, his tone resolute. "On the battlefield, Grandfather, it's not politics that speak—it's the sword. These men weren't diplomats or emissaries of peace. They came as invaders, burning the fields, pillaging the villages, and wreaking havoc on the local population. They entered as a conquering force, not as peaceful negotiators. And so I did what I was ordered to do. I ensured that none of them escaped. On the battlefield, you can't always control how things play out."
Kaiser Anno's face darkened with displeasure. He couldn't accept Wolfram's response. "Who do you think you are?" the Kaiser snapped, his voice rising. "Here, everyone follows rules! This isn't some lawless nomadic land! There are consequences for the things you've done, and you can't just act without thinking ahead. We must plan for what comes next, strategically." He paused, shaking his head. "I need to think about this."
Kaiser Anno then shifted conversation toward Aslı, who arrived with Wolfram. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. "And who is this woman with you? She doesn't look like she's from here." His voice dropped, filled with warning. "Don't tell me you've married a Turk. I hope you're not that foolish."
Wolfram couldn't help but smile at the Kaiser's reaction, a slight chuckle escaping his lips. "No, no, nothing of the sort, grandfather," he said, his voice lighter for the first time during the tense conversation. "She is the one who found my father and brought him back to me. She's the reason he's still alive today. And she wishes to speak with you herself. We owe her my father's life. Don't forget that."
Kaiser Anno seemed to hesitate for a moment, glancing back and forth to Wolfram.
Wolfram took this opportunity to bow slightly, signaling his desire to leave. "Now, if you'll permit me, I need some rest," he said, his tone respectful but firm.
Without waiting for a reply, Wolfram turned and walked away from the throne, leaving Kaiser Anno deep in thought. The weight of the conversation hung heavily in the air, but Wolfram carried it with a newfound sense of purpose. For better or worse, his path was now set, and the consequences of his actions would soon unfold.