"The treasury? Hah!" Zadkiel laughed, before then turning to his butler and ordering "Lead the lady to her desired destination." Which made the old man's eyes glint in odd understanding. The lady looked at him in shock when she heard this, which he easily noticed, so he answered her "Better you take it than that demon my brother called son." The lady remained silent for a moment, before she replied as she and her followers followed the old man down the dark corridors of his luxurious palace "Thank you for your cooperation." Zadkiel then turned to the blunt tall man, and asked "And you, what do you want? If it was Darr you sought, then I'm afraid I have none more to give, for as you can see it's already been spoken for." "I am not here for gold." The man quickly claimed "Instead I have come here today to make certain that any and all information you hold of us is properly disposed of." The Heretics were not fools enough to believe that Zadkiel did not have some dirt about all his co-conspirators, and they would not risk those details being shown to the Bloody Emperor's eyes. "Oh? Seems like you and your ilk are truly terrified of my young nephew, aren't you?" Zadkiel mocked the man, but he didn't say anything in return, merely continuing to stand there, waiting for Zadkiel to show him the way. "You're no fun." Zafkiel clicked his tongue, before continuing "Those papers are in my office, follow me." The four men quickly made their way through the embellished and exaggerated hallways of the castle, before they found themselves in front of a large wooden door, made of clearly premium quality timber and carved with expert hands, as six guards stood stalwart on it's flanks each with a glistening spear in hand. Zadkiel nodded smilingly at the guards, which swiftly made them salute him, before he then fished out a golden key from his clothes that unlock the door, before he said, gesturing with his chin at the nearby cabinet that was filled to the brim with scattered scrolls and stacked parchment "It's all in there." The tall, bald man and his two followers had just made it through the threshold of the door, when Zadkiel's hand unsheathed his saber that now shimmered with his pale green aura, and struck at the unprepared, piously dressed Heretics, who's necks suddenly gushed with crimson. The man reflexively clutched his now parted neck, his white priestly robes making a haunting comparison with the scarlet red quickly infecting it's purity, which only grew in haunting, when the tall man's frame came crumbling down to his knees, like a proud tree brought to heel, while his mouth unleashed an natural sound of gurgling blood, his desperate eyes searching in vain for his compatriots to save him. But it was all for not, as those men of his, that he counted on in this most dire of moments, were already dead, each having three aura infused spears piercing their torsos from back to front, before they could even draw the weapons to their sides. Zadkiel glared at their corpses one last time, especially the tall man's, before he barked at the guards, who'd just removed their weapons from the two, with a sickening squelch "Get rid of them." The six quickly saluted, before they began to drag the three bloody bodies away with practiced motions, as if it were a routinely occurrence for them, when the old butler with five others soldiers in tow, dragging the now gruesome five other guests. "It is done, my king." The old butler reported with a courteous bow. "Good!" He vindictively spat "These vulture like bastards, thinking they could come here now to circle around me and claim an easy meal!" The old butler remained quiet for a moment, before then asking carefully, worried to redirect his master's anger onto him "Sire... is this wise? The friendship of the Sapphire Guild and the Heretics is not so cheaply broken." "And mine is?!" Zadkiel indignantly retorted, his words laced with a toxic mix of hate and resentment, as his eyes turned a shade of frightening red from rage, as he continued loudly, as if his voice has been permanently fixed at this ear splitting level "If those scum think they can just throw me aside when ever they please, then they are gravely mistaken!" "Of course, my lord." The old butler quickly agreed, trying to placate his master. But Zadkiel was relentless, his vexation turning to raving rants of vitriol against everyone he could think of, Haytham, Alexander, Marius, Maximillian, the Heretics, the Sapphire Swallow Guild, even the gods were not spared his virulent tongue's lashing. Only when near half an hour passed, did he finally yield, allowing his tongue and parched throat a moment's respite, as he began to think of his future course of actions, but they weren't many. Zadkiel was very much aware of what his end would be if he was to fall into his demonic nephew's hands, and he was under no delusion that pleading to him or his brother would result in any mercy, after they'd said to his already; his end wouldn't be a slow one. But he also knew that since he now had lost the support that made it possible for him to begin this whole rebellion in the first place, there was no longer a chance for him to win the war. Even if he shoved a spear into the hands of the every man woman and child within Appethus' population of millions, he would still not triumph against the Eclipse Empire's professional soldiers, even if they didn't have the support of high ranking martial artists like his brother, the Grand Chamberlin and the Commander of the Palace Guard, or even the command of that beloved emperor of theirs, who they already near deify, and who's already proven himself an equal to the War Dragon. He couldn't even hold his own city, even if he had all the supplies and food in the world, because even one of those ninth and eighth rank behemoths on the other side would simply sweep aside all his helpless soldiers, no matter how many of them there are, within a single day, let alone if they all come together. 'The city wouldn't hold for an hour.' He thought in depressing dismay. Zadkiel lamented, head dropping in defeat, his heart twisting bitterly at the decades lost in silent preparation all to lose everything in the end. Zadkiel sighed in sorrow, for he was knew what the sole choice left to him now was. Turning to his loyal butler, Zadkiel ordered decisively, though a sense of reluctance still lingered on his every word "Go gather our most loyal men and have them begin discreetly emptying the treasury of all it's worth and loading it onto my ship." "My lord! You mean to...?!" The old man didn't even manage to finish when Zadkiel answered. "Yes, we are leaving this city before the enemy's armies get here. And you must make sure that all preparation are done by tonight, so that we could escape by cover of darkness." "But..." The old butler tried to argue, but he knew his master was adamant, so he simply leashed his words, and replied instead "I understand my lord. It shall be done." But then the old man looked at the various important documents scattered all around them and asked "What about all the records we against both foreign and local nobles and politicians?" Zadkiel looked surprised at his trusted butler's words, shocked that he'd forgotten such a valuable resource he had accumulated over so many years as the head of the Noble Faction, and for the first time in what seemed like years, a look of hope came across his face, as he could finally see a future path he might be able to walk to achieve his dream. Even if only a fraction of all these papers could still sway a few within the world, then he could at least continue to be informed about the inner gossip and workings of the elite, which would allow him to collect more information that he could use to blackmail or simply give him an edge on others, until he could rebuild his lost fortunes, and maybe... just possibly... if the opportunity ever arises, he could still see his ambitions come to pass. "Take everything! Even if we must must sacrifice the place of a few men, that's fine. Just make sure we miss nothing." Zadkiel quickly ordered, a frantic look in his eye; but then suddenly, just as they were about to start working, Zadkiel roared out "Wait!" "My king?" The butler asked, confused. Zadkiel looked at the cabinet where he had told the Heretic emissary he kept the secret files he held on their co-conspirators and a cunning gleam crossed his eyes, saying "Take everything, except anything related to those bastards who abandoned me. Leave them to my monster of a nephew." He said with a vengeful smile, as he thought in nefarious delight 'Consider it a final present from me to you.' "Understood." The old man said, as he began to implement his master's orders, when suddenly a guard came rushing in, his face a sweating mask of worry and his voice a siren of urgency "My king! The eastern fleet has arrived!" Newest update provıded by 𝕟𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝⁂𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖⁂𝕟𝕖𝕥 Zadkiel's face paled, as he pushed the guard aside and rushed to the eastern terrace of his castle, that overlooked the sea, where he saw in the horizon and quickly getting closer, in confirmation of the guard's earlier words that he had hoped were not real, a black forest flying the standard of the Eclipse Empire silently sailing towards them. Zadkiel stared in dread at the coming armada for a moment, before suddenly hollering, panic apparent in his voice "Quick! Someone ready my horse! Now!" "Sire, are you planning to escape the city this instant?! You can't! It's not safe! The people have probably begun to panic yet again, and this time it would be worse than earlier! Why not wait until the guards have subdued them again, which would allow us some more time to collect more of the.." He couldn't continue as Zadkiel's impatient shout cut him off. "If we don't take flight straight away, then we won't have the chance to anymore! Just take what ever Darr and files you can hold and run!" Zadkiel as he began to speed through the halls ahead of him, forcing the ordinary old, mortal man to rush to complete his master's demands. But they were still too late, as tens of thousands of men, carrying the twin flags of the Eclispe Empire and the Free City of Qayan, a blazing red hammer striking a black anvil before a crucible's yellow and orange fire, began to manifest to the west. Valdour's army had arrived.