The World Is Mine For The Taking

"Now, everyone!"

A sharp clap rang out from the second floor, the sound cutting through the hum of chatter like a whip. All eyes turned towards the grand staircase, leading up to a high platform where Duke Merca stood, bathed in the glow of the chandelier lights above. He held himself with the rigid posture of a man who believed himself above everyone in the room, his chin raised just a bit too high, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"I ask for your attention, just for a moment! And then we'll kick off the official beginning of this annual celebration that we've held for years!"

He swept his gaze across the gathered guests, a satisfied gleam in his eye. The crowd below him was filled with noblemen and women, all decked out in their finest, each one a piece in the elaborate game he hosted every year. Duke Merca's voice, smooth yet commanding, resonated off the walls as if daring anyone to ignore him.

"We've faced many challenges—losses of comrades during the purge of those caught in their deceitful acts. Yet, here we are, celebrating again. Rest in peace to those who've left us. Like my fellow Duke, Duke Sierra. He was far from perfect, and he did things that earned him his end. But he was still an essential pillar of this kingdom—one of the most powerful dukes, alongside myself. His daughter is with us tonight because I invited her, for in my eyes, Duke Sierra remains a duke."

Duke Merca's gaze settled on Charlotte, who clutched Sesillian's arm like a lifeline, her expression unreadable under the scrutiny of the crowd.

"We're here tonight not just to mourn the dead, but to learn from our past mistakes, to make sure those incidents are not repeated. With the Empire making its suspicious moves across the continents, we need unity more than ever. And this gathering is the perfect opportunity for that! We are the nobles of the Kingdom of Milham! We are the greatest kingdom of all, and we will not let anyone force us to bow!"

Applause erupted like thunder, rolling through the hall as the nobles raised their hands high, faces flushed with pride and wine. The energy of the room seemed to pulse, as if Merca's words had sparked a fire in their veins. I lifted my own hand, blending into the sea of clapping figures.

"I must express my gratitude to everyone who has attended this year, especially Mr. Faust."

I raised my wine glass, the liquid inside catching the light as I offered a nod.

"For those who don't know, this man is a legend. He founded the company Leonamon, the driving force behind so many of our modern luxuries. The phones in your hands, the cars that brought you here tonight, the cakes that made your mouths water, the very wine that warms your bellies this evening—all of it exists because of him. The dresses that grace many of you tonight? Yes, his influence stretches that far. Thanks to Leonamon, our Kingdom of Milham thrives, drawing merchants from every corner of the world, and making their products known far and wide. It's his vision that has made our kingdom flourish."

The applause shifted, this time directed at me. I could feel the undercurrent of resentment—some still held on to their prejudices about my humble origins. But they clapped all the same, their forced smiles barely hiding the bitterness underneath.

"And let's not forget to thank the gods for blessing my daughter with good health! And for guiding those who preserve our world. Now then, I suppose I've said enough. Let's get this party started! Cheers!"

Duke Merca raised his glass high, the deep red of the wine swirling with the motion, and the crowd mirrored him, their glasses catching the light in a hundred different flashes.

With that final toast, the night's party officially roared to life.

***

Gabrielle's POV

The entire room was a harsh, unrelenting white, almost blinding, forcing anyone inside to squint as if the brightness itself was a weapon. In the center of that stark space, a woman was bound by chains that dug into her skin, each link humming with an eerie power. She was completely immobilized. Those chains weren't just any metal—they were forged from the strongest material on this planet, and more than that, they pulsed with power-dampening runes, snuffing out any abilities she might try to muster.

The woman's appearance was pitiful—skin clinging to her bones, eyes sunken and ringed with deep shadows, her cheeks hollowed from starvation. She hadn't tasted a bite of food during her entire time here, her body left to wither away while the chains held her fast.

"Angelica..." I said, stepping closer with a tray of food in my hands. Her response was immediate—sharp, hate-filled eyes glaring up at me like she wished they could burn through my skull. But I met that gaze with cold indifference. "Glaring at me won't do you any good."

"You're delusional. You're so damn delusional, woman! You don't know a thing! You don't know a damn thing!" Her voice broke into desperate shrieks, each word laced with a crazed edge, like she was clinging to a lifeline made of lies. Her mind was shattered beyond repair, twisted by whatever brainwashing had taken root inside her.

"I'm not here to hear you ramble on with your madness," I shot back, voice hard as iron. "Not from someone who slaughtered the innocent."

"You're wrong! You're fucking wrong! You have no idea! You know nothing, you bitch!"

She lunged, or at least tried to, but the chains pulled her back, leaving her thrashing uselessly against her restraints. With a sharp kick, she sent the tray flying, the food splattering across the pristine floor, leaving stains on the blinding white. The plate shattered into jagged pieces, the crash reverberating like a gunshot in the silence.

"You don't know anything! You're wrong! Our Lord is... Our Lord is...!"

"If you're going to kick away your food, then starve. Suffer in your hunger until it drains the last bit of strength from you. Starve to death for all I care." I spun around, my words cutting through the air, then headed toward the door.

"You don't know anything! YOU KNOW NOTHING! YOU KNOW NOTHINGGGGGGGG!!!" Her voice tore through the room, desperate and raw, like it was trying to claw its way back to sanity. But I ignored it, walking out and slamming the heavy door behind me, cutting off the sound like a knife through flesh.

"Guess there's no saving her now," I muttered, my voice echoing in the empty hallway as I shook my head. It was almost tragic—she'd once had a soul worth saving.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

Now, though, the Eclipse and the horrors she'd committed—whether by her own will or because of the poison in her mind—had sealed her fate. Her death was inevitable.

"May you rest in peace, I suppose..." I whispered, the words barely audible, then turned and walked away, leaving behind the silence and the shadows of a lost mind.