The courtyard remained eerily silent. No one dared approached the body hanging from the estate gates. The morning breeze carried the metallic scent of blood across the Vale Estate as servants clustered several meters away, whispering with pale, drawn faces. Krystal couldn’t look away. The assassin’s lifeless body swayed gently beneath the iron spikes, the wooden sign around his neck creaking with every gust of wind. Traitors die before their masters.The words weren’t meant for the corpse. They were a message for someone still breathing, someone inside these walls. “They’re threatening their own people,” Krystal whispered. “Eliminating loose ends.” He thought but then, the familiar voice made him turn. Diago had arrived. He wore a long deep crimson military coat embroidered with silver dragons. His expression was calm, but his eyes beneath held a storm that could drown empires. Several guards dropped to their knees at once. “My Lord.” They greeted but he just ignored them and
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