Read Novel Full Chapter 590: The gods decision 3
Chapter 590: The gods decision 3
The procession moved slowly through the palace.
No triumph accompanied it.
No music.
No ceremonial fanfare.
Only silence.
The Imperial Guards carried Lucas with the greatest care, supporting his body upon a royal bier draped in the colors of Lechia. Every soldier’s expression was solemn, and not one of them lifted his head. They marched with measured steps, as though even the slightest jolt would be disrespectful to the man who had given everything for their kingdom.
Behind them walked the five young women.
Lira could barely remain on her feet.
She stumbled several times, her tears blurring her vision, yet she refused to stop following. Between sobs she repeatedly called out to him.
“Xavier… please…”
“You’ve fooled us long enough…”
“Please wake up…”
Her voice cracked with every word.
Selene walked beside her, one trembling hand covering her mouth as she cried uncontrollably. She could not stop staring at Lucas’s still face.
“You promised us…”
“You promised to win…”
“You always keep your promises…”
Her knees weakened, but Henrietta quickly caught her before she fell.
Henrietta herself was crying just as bitterly.
She clenched her fists until her nails dug into her palms.
“You idiot…”
“You always throw yourself into danger…”
“So get up already…”
Her voice dissolved into sobs.
“This isn’t funny anymore…”
Princess Nyx wiped away her tears only for new ones to replace them moments later.
She stared at Lucas as though expecting his chest to suddenly rise with a deep breath.
“You’ve survived impossible situations before…”
she whispered desperately.
“You can’t…”
“You can’t leave us like this…”
Even the Ice Belle walked with unsteady steps.
Her expression remained quieter than the others’, but the endless tears flowing down her face revealed the depth of her grief.
She never once took her eyes off Lucas.
Every few moments she found herself waiting.
Waiting for a finger to twitch.
For his eyelids to move.
For anything.
Nothing came.
The long corridor echoed with nothing except the footsteps of the guards and the heartbreaking cries of the women following behind them.
Servants throughout the palace stopped whatever they were doing.
Many immediately lowered their heads.
Others openly wept.
Word had already spread.
Lechia’s champion had fallen.
Far ahead of the procession, the Empress had already returned to her private chambers.
The moment the doors closed behind her, the strength she had forced herself to maintain disappeared completely.
She staggered toward the edge of her bed before collapsing onto it.
Her hands covered her face.
The sob she had been holding back escaped her lips.
Then another.
Soon she was weeping without restraint.
Her shoulders shook violently.
Her breathing became uneven.
She could still see him standing before her the night before.
Confident.
Calm.
Smiling.
“I’m honored to fight for Your Majesty and Lechia.”
“I will never let you down.”
He had kept that promise.
She was the one who felt she had failed.
“If I hadn’t chosen you…”
she whispered through her tears.
“…you would still be alive.”
Her voice broke completely.
“I sent you there…”
“I asked you to carry my burden…”
“And this…”
She buried her face in her trembling hands.
“…this is how you were repaid.”
The room remained silent except for her grief.
For all her authority…
For all the power she wielded…
She had been utterly helpless.
She had watched him suffer.
Watched him fight against the corruption.
Watched him endure blow after blow.
Watched him die.
And she had done nothing.
Not because she had wanted to.
But because she had been bound by the very laws she had sworn to uphold.
The thought tormented her.
“What kind of ruler…”
she whispered.
“…cannot save the one who saved her kingdom?”
Fresh tears streamed down her face.
She lowered her head, unable to stop blaming herself.
Outside her chambers, the solemn procession finally approached.
The guards slowed even further as they reached the great doors, carrying Lucas with the same reverence they would have shown a fallen king.
Behind them, the girls continued to cry his name, each desperate plea fading unanswered into the quiet halls of the palace.
The palace had never felt so quiet.
The halls that had once echoed with the voices of nobles, servants, and guards now seemed burdened by an unbearable sorrow.
Every person who walked those corridors did so with lowered heads.
No one spoke above a whisper.
It was as though the entire palace feared disturbing the silence surrounding its fallen champion.
Deep within the Imperial Palace, one of the most secure and dignified chambers had been prepared.
At its center stood a long stone table, polished to a mirror-like finish.
Upon it rested Lucas.
His body had been carefully cleansed of the blood that had stained him in the arena.
The torn remnants of his robes had been replaced with clean white garments.
His hands had been folded neatly across his chest.
A fine white cloth covered him from the shoulders downward, preserving his dignity while awaiting the rites that would follow.
His expression was peaceful.
The pain that had twisted his features during the battle had disappeared.
He looked less like a warrior who had perished in combat…
And more like someone peacefully asleep.
Several royal guards stood at the entrance of the chamber.
Each remained perfectly still.
None wished to leave their post.
They considered it the highest honor of their military careers to stand vigil over the man who had given everything for Lechia.
Not far from that chamber, another room had been prepared for the rulers of the allied kingdoms.
Its atmosphere was as heavy as the one surrounding Lucas.
King Alden Highmoor sat quietly with both hands resting upon his knees.
Across from him sat the Emperor of Rus.
Beside him was the King of Blackmare.
The Empress occupied the seat at the head of the room.
Yet she looked nothing like a monarch.
She stared silently toward the floor.
Her eyes were swollen from endless tears.
Her hands rested motionless in her lap.
She had not spoken a single word since entering the room.
The silence lingered until the Emperor of Rus finally exhaled.
“What happened today…”
He slowly shook his head.
“…none of us could have predicted.”
The King of Blackmare nodded grimly.
“Xavier had complete control of that battle.”
“He was moments away from victory.”
His brows furrowed.
“That corruption…”
He paused.
“It changed everything.”
King Highmoor remained silent for a long moment before speaking.
His usually commanding voice carried an unmistakable sadness.
“Valerion has not merely lost a warrior.”
He looked toward the closed doors leading deeper into the palace.
“It has lost a precious gem.”
His words hung heavily in the room.
“He possessed courage beyond his years.”
“Wisdom.”
“Compassion.”
“And strength that inspired both kings and commoners alike.”
King Highmoor lowered his gaze.
“I watched him grow stronger through hardship.”
“I watched him carry burdens that should never have belonged to someone so young.”
A faint smile appeared on his face.
It was filled only with melancholy.
“And yet…”
“He never complained.”
The room fell silent once more.
The King of Blackmare folded his arms.
“There are very few people capable of uniting kingdoms the way Lucas did.”
“He earned respect wherever he went.”
“Not through fear.”
“But through character.”
The Emperor of Rus nodded slowly.
“I have ruled for decades.”
“I have seen countless gifted cultivators.”
“But men like Xavier…”
He sighed.
“They appear perhaps once in a generation.”
No one disputed his words.
At the head of the table, the Empress remained completely silent.
She had heard every word.
Yet she could not bring herself to answer.
Her thoughts remained fixed upon the chamber where Lucas now lay.
She remembered his promise.
She remembered his smile.
She remembered the moment he silently shook his head, urging her not to abandon the dignity of her throne.
Even in his final moments…
He had been protecting her.
A single tear escaped her eye and fell quietly into her lap.
King Alden noticed.
His heart ached for her.
He understood that no words could lessen the burden she now carried.
The room fell into silence again.
Four rulers sat together.
Three spoke of the champion they had admired.
One simply mourned him.
Beyond the chamber walls, the palace remained wrapped in grief, while in the adjoining room, Lucas rested beneath the white cloth, watched over in solemn silence by those who refused to leave the side of the hero they believed had given his life for the world.
The gods decision was too brutal, and the people of Lechia are suffering for it.
Khan rode through the streets like a champion and he taunted the people in the streets. He’s leaving the kingdom to go join the usurpers.
The girls were now in the chamber where Lucas was laid before his burial rites would be done. They continued watching him in tears.
The ice belle was sad and filled with rage at the same time, she would’ve gone for revenge right now but the law forbids it.