Noblesse: Beginning Of Destruction Novelas e Histórias

Following his gaze everyone around the table grimaced. "I just don't believe in unnecessary death." Nerissa harrumphed. "Who says it's not necessary? We're not talking the execution of some random women and children. We're talking about the people who're the prime reason your city fell in a single night. They've lived lording over their subjects for thousands of years without remorse. Their ambitions and actions only getting worse and worse over time." Christopher argued his voice cold. The mask may hide his face but it did nothing hiding his feelings as he spoke. And if there was one thing evident at this very moment. He loathed the nobility.

Not everyone welcomed the new air. The Noble Quarter was a study in spectral silence. The majestic, oversized mansions remained—symbols of wasted wealth—but they were ghosts of their former selves. Their heavy, ornamental gates were now unguarded, their familial banners ripped down, replaced by the austere black-and-silver standards of Aeternum.

Knight Jur Weber bowed and left. Christine handed out the parchment and said to the crowd, 'You should have a look too. The people present read it in turn, and although their expressions varied, none of them showed any sign of cowardice. There were many nobles in the different countries of the continent, and it was normal for them to have conflicts with each other. It was not surprising that when negotiations failed, they would call out their troops to fight. According to the 'Treaty of the Nobles', if the nobles, including knights, were defeated and captured, their families could use their wealth to free them, and the captured nobles could not be killed.

To be from a true line of nobles, a family that had founded Vermillion City, was a rarity these days. Noble families, like ancient trees, often withered and fell over time. Inept heirs, internal strife, and the relentless tides of power often led to their decline, replaced by ambitious newcomers eager to claim their mantle. Agnus, however, was a living relic, a testament to the enduring legacy of his ancestors. I returned his bow, mimicking the precise gesture I had practised countless times during my days at Brightwing Academy. A wave of nostalgia washed over me as I recalled the hallowed halls and the lessons learned within them.

Afterward, sweat-slicked and breathless, Caelan whispered against Lucien’s chest, “The secrets are fully revealed now. There is no going back.” Lucien kissed the top of his head, voice dark with promise. “Good. Let the old laws burn. We will build something stronger from the ashes.” Outside, torches burned late across the noble districts. Alliances formed and shattered by the hour. The forbidden mate had pushed the realm past its breaking point. And the war for the throne—and their love—had truly begun.

I asked, not bothering in the slightest to lighten my tone for the bastard. "Well, as you know, certain familiars can get you better standings in Celestia, and it just so happens that one of the high advisors to the throne is looking for a suitable wife." The second those words came out of his mouth, I felt the shift in the air as Xavier slowly, deliberately set his glass down onto the table, as Nova visibly shrank back further, as if thinking that my father would even attempt to grab her with the two of them here. This time, though, it wasn't just tension radiating off Xavier. I felt every hair on my body stand on end as his power charged the air around us in his silent fury. I glanced up a

Their daughter’s betrayal had unmasked everything, and for the first time, they felt the weight of their misplaced loyalty. I let the silence stretch for a moment, the tension hanging thick, before finishing with a final, cold note. “And now, everything you built on lies, on deception, on cruelty, will fall. I reclaim what is mine. My name. My dignity. My life. And all the power you tried to steal from me, I take back. Every single piece.”

They’d need my written permission. They were no longer the McLarens. Just a broken family with no power, no empire, no legacy. I watched Venice collapse into tears, mascara bleeding down her cheeks. I watched Elias clench his fists. And I smiled. "Shall I pour more champagne?" Tomas asked, his tone dry as ever. I raised my glass and clicked it against the edge of the table. "Why not? Let’s celebrate the death of old money—and the birth of new royalty." From my penthouse window, the city blinked with lights like it knew I had arrived. Not the forgotten girl in the attic. Not the intern with callused hands and a silent cry for help.

“No. I wanted you. And now I don’t know who you are.” Elara took a step toward him. “Neither do I. But you were right. The throne was never mine to sit on.” She glanced at the crumbling dais. “It was meant to be destroyed.” Silence lingered. Then Kael moved between them. “You both keep talking like this story’s over. It’s not. The nobles will rise. The southern courts won’t honor a leader with no bloodline claim.” “I’m not asking them to,” Elara said, voice sharpening. “Let them come. Let the world see what rises from ash when gods fall.”

Adriano's father, his face etched with concern, took a deep breath and said, "Adriano, I implore you to stop this madness. What you're doing is not only illegal but deeply immoral. You're destroying lives." Alessio's voice trembled with fury. "You're destroying her life, manipulating a girl who has no knowledge of your sinister plans. Is this the legacy you want for our family?" Adriano's face filled with anger, his obsessions consuming him. "I won't let anyone come between us. Emilia is mine." Alessio's eyes blazed with paternal protectiveness. "No, Adriano. I won't allow you to ruin that girl's life. She deserves better than to be ensnared in the darkness you're weaving."