"Loyalty is a blade with two edges. One cuts for your king. The other carves your grave."
The iron gates slammed shut behind him.
Kael Varian stood motionless in the heart of the royal coliseum, his wrists chained in sacred steel — the kind used to bind demons and kings alike. Around him, the roar of thousands echoed across the arena, yet none cheered. This was no spectacle.
This was an execution.
On the balcony above, beneath the crimson banners of the empire, Emperor Calrix raised his scepter. His golden eyes — once filled with trust — were now cold, unreadable.
"Kael Varian," the emperor spoke, his voice amplified by the wind. "General of the Third Legion. Guardian of the Eastern Gate. Slayer of the Abyssal Tide. You stand accused of treason, heresy, and the murder of the crown prince."
The crowd stirred. Murmurs. Gasps. Lies.
Kael's voice was rough, low, but steady. "I protected your son with my life. I bled for this kingdom. You know this."
"And yet he lies cold, while you stand breathing," Calrix replied. "Guilt does not flee the scene. It survives to justify itself."
The scepter pulsed. A signal.
Two executioners stepped forward, dragging an obsidian blade — long, jagged, cursed. The Sword of Silence. Forged to erase not just life, but legacy.
Kael exhaled slowly. He didn't beg. He didn't kneel.
He smiled.
They hadn't stripped his pride. Not yet.
The blade rose.
And then— thegroundcracked.
A tremor. A pulse of black energy surged from beneath Kael's feet. His eyes widened. Not in fear — in revelation.
The chains binding him shattered.
"What—!?" one of the executioners screamed.
From the fissure below, a voice echoed — ancient, hollow, regal.
"The last heir falls… the Hollow Throne calls…"
A shadow burst upward like a geyser, engulfing Kael. For a moment, the world went silent.
Then came the scream — not from Kael, but from the sky itself. Black clouds spiraled above the coliseum. The banners burned. The scepter cracked.
And from the dark, a new figure emerged.
Kael stood taller now. His armor reformed in blackened silver. A crown of thorns hovered above his head, forged from shadow and flame.
His eyes glowed ashen violet.
"Kael Varian is dead," he said. His voice was layered — human and something else. Something… unholy.
"I am the Hollow King."
Then he vanished into black mist — just as the coliseum collapsed.
To be continued…