Serpent Emperor's Bride

Chapter 237: The First Move

[Zahryssar—Imperial Palace—Midnight—continuation]

CRASH!

The sound echoed throughout the imperial chamber; wine spilled across marble floors. Fragments of silver rolled beneath expensive furniture, and for the first time in many years...the Emperor of Zahryssar staggered.

The room became deathly silent. Slyvarakh’s fingers tightened around the edge of the table. The ancient wood cracked beneath his grip; his breathing had become uneven.

Not visibly, not enough for ordinary people to notice but enough to terrify him. Silver eyes narrowed, slowly and dangerously. Then he looked down.

At his hand, at the faint black veins beneath his skin. The veins that had accompanied him since his resurrection, the veins that symbolized power.

Immortality...victory over death, and for a brief moment...they flickered and then vanished.

Silence.

The Emperor stared, mumbling, "No...not possible."

His pulse quickened only slightly, yet it did, and then suddenly Slyvarakh felt the power being disturbed because he knew exactly where it came from. The underground sanctuary, the forbidden chamber.

The altar and the source. Immediately his expression changed. The calm disappeared, the confidence vanished, and something far more dangerous appeared.

As the chamber doors exploded open, several terrified servants fell to their knees. "YOUR MAJESTY!"

Slyvarakh turned; the movement was so sharp everyone flinched, and the servant immediately lowered his head.

"We heard a disturbance beneath the palace."

Silence.

The emperor stared and then quietly asked, "Who entered the lower sanctuary?"

Nobody answered because nobody knew, and somehow...that answer frightened him more. The Emperor slowly straightened, his silver eyes darkened, and the room temperature dropped instantly.

Then his voice echoed cold and deadly. "Seal the palace."

Every servant froze. "Your Majesty—"

"I said, ’Seal it.’" The roar shook the chamber. "Nobody enters, nobody leaves; an assassin has entered...seal everything."

The palace immediately erupted into chaos; orders echoed, guards ran, and doors slammed. The entire Imperial Palace transformed into a fortress within moments.

Meanwhile...Slyvarakh remained standing alone, silent and thinking because something was wrong.

Terribly wrong, the black magic power he possessed was weakening. Someone had touched the altar, someone had found the sanctuary, and someone knew. The realization felt like ice entering his veins.

Because there was only one place in the entire empire capable of weakening his power and someone had found it.

BOOM!

The table beside him shattered beneath his fist. Immediately every servant in the chamber dropped to their knees, and every guard froze.

The atmosphere became suffocating, then Slyvarakh roared—

"FIND THEM!" The palace trembled as his silver eyes blazed with fury. "Find whoever entered the Inner Sanctum! SEAL EVERYTHING!"

The servants immediately scattered; the guards rushed from the chamber. Orders echoed throughout the palace; doors slammed and chains rattled.

The Imperial Palace transformed into a fortress within moments... Slyvarakh stood alone, and silence returned, but this time it was different, not calm, not composed, but fearful.

The Emperor slowly gripped the edge of a pillar; his breathing became uneven, the words escaped as a whisper, and his silver eyes drifted toward his trembling hand.

"This is impossible...my power cannot be disturbed."

Another flicker, another weakening, and suddenly panic surged as his voice became harsher. "What if it continues? What if it grows worse?"

The room felt smaller, the shadows felt deeper, and then another thought entered his mind.

Zeramet.

Immediately his expression twisted. That name, that cursed name for him, that serpent who refused to die. Slyvarakh’s jaw tightened. "If this continues...how am I supposed to kill Zeramet?"

Silence.

The realization struck harder than expected because despite everything...despite all his arrogance...despite all his madness...

Slyvarakh knew the truth: Zeramet is alive and without the black magic...he was not invincible. Without the black magic...he could bleed. Without the black magic...Zeramet could kill him.

The thought filled him with rage and fear. Then suddenly—

"Did something happen?"

A calm voice echoed from the doorway. Slyvarakh immediately straightened; his hand disappeared behind his back, and his expression returned to normal, perfect, cold, and imperial.

The mask returned. Sarash stood at the entrance, with white hair and a calm posture. As though he had simply wandered into the chamber by coincidence. As though he knew nothing, as though he had done nothing.

Slyvarakh narrowed his eyes. "Why are you here?"

Sarash stepped inside slowly, unhurried and respectful. The perfect servant Slyvarakh wants. The perfect subordinate.

The perfect liar.

"I came regarding Thalryn." Slyvarakh remained silent as Sarash continued. "The armies stationed at the border have reported no response from Duke Aren. The ultimatum expires soon. Should we begin the invasion?"

Silence, a long silence, and inside that silence... Sarash watched, observed, and waited because he already knew the answer.

Slyvarakh looked away, thinking and calculating, and for the first time in years...fear outweighed obsession as thought immediately surfaced.

No. I cannot risk it, not now, not while my power is unstable, not while someone has touched the altar, and not while Zeramet still breathes somewhere beyond my reach.

The Emperor slowly straightened his expression, becoming cold once more. "There is no need."

Sarash lowered his head slightly. "As you wish, Malik."

Slyvarakh continued. "It is obvious now; if my consort were truly inside Thalryn...Duke Aren would have already surrendered."

Sarash remained silent; the logic was sound. Which made the lie easier to accept, and then Sarash carefully added, "But the armies are prepared. The generals believe we could secure victory quickly and perhaps gain—"

"I SAID NO!" The roar exploded through the chamber; the windows rattled. Servants outside froze; the temperature dropped instantly.

Yet this time... Sarash did not flinch, not even slightly because he had expected it and because the reaction itself confirmed everything.

The Emperor was worried, terrified, and weakening. Exactly as planned. Slyvarakh exhaled slowly, trying to regain control.

Then coldly ordered—

"Recall the armies. Pull them back from the border and continue searching elsewhere." His silver eyes darkened. "Levin is not in Thalryn."

Sarash bowed immediately. "As the Malik commands."

Perfect obedience, perfect loyalty, and perfect deception. Then after a brief pause, Sarash tilted his head, almost curiously.

"But..."

Slyvarakh looked at him. "What?"

Sarash glanced toward the commotion beyond the chamber, the running guards, the shouting soldiers, and the sealed corridors.

And innocently asked, "What is happening? The palace seems unusually busy."

Silence.

Slyvarakh stared at him for several moments, suspicious, thinking and watching. Then finally he answered. "There is an assassin."

Sarash’s eyebrows rose; an excellent performance. "An assassin?"

Slyvarakh nodded as his voice became colder and more dangerous. "Someone entered the Inner Sanctum. The place where..."

He stopped immediately because nobody knew where his power truly came from. Not even Sarash, at least...that was what he believed.

Then Slyvarakh continued carefully. "Someone entered a restricted area and someone attempted to interfere with matters that do not concern them."

Sarash lowered his head, understanding, obedient, and harmless. "Then I shall investigate immediately."

Slyvarakh nodded as his voice darkened. "Find them and bring them to me."

Sarash bowed once more. "As the Malik wishes."

Then he turned calmly and walked slowly toward the door. The picture of loyalty. The picture of obedience. The picture of innocence only after the chamber doors closed behind him...

Only after he was completely alone...did a faint smile appear.

Tiny, almost invisible. Yet unmistakably real. The smile of a man who had just outplayed an emperor. Sarash continued walking through the corridor. His eyes gleamed beneath the torchlight.

Then quietly...almost to himself...he whispered, "So it worked."

The smile widened slightly, not much, just enough.

The black magic was weakening. The invasion was canceled. Thalryn had gained time. Levin had gained time.

And Slyvarakh...dad gained fear.

The white serpent continued walking through the palace. Blood is still hidden beneath his sleeves. Pain is still lingering inside his body.

Yet somehow...every lash, every wound, and every humiliation had suddenly become worthwhile because for the first time the Emperor was reacting.

And Sarash...was making the moves. While Slyvarakh still believed himself to be the hunter. The fool had not yet realized...he had already become the prey.

***

[Silthara Palace — The Same Time]

The palace had fallen into chaos. Boots thundered through marble corridors; orders echoed from every direction. Silver-armored knights rushed through halls and courtyards. The great palace gates groaned as soldiers hurried to seal them.

Torches flickered wildly against sandstone walls and above everything...a single rumor spread like wildfire.

An assassin.

Someone had entered the forbidden sections of the palace; someone had slipped through the heart of Zahryssar, and now every knight in the palace was searching.

Meanwhile...on the eastern side of Silthara Palace... Varesh frowned as he watched dozens of soldiers rush past him. The captain of the Imperial Guard immediately stepped forward, his hand rested upon the hilt of his sword.

"What is happening?"

Before anyone could answer, a knight nearly stumbled into him, breathing heavily. "Captain! There is an assassin somewhere inside the palace."

Silence.

Varesh froze. "What?"

The knight swallowed. "The Imperial Palace has been sealed. Orders came directly from the Malik."

Immediately Varesh’s eyes sharpened, then his voice exploded through the corridor. "What are you standing here for?!"

The surrounding knights jumped. "Seal every gate. Double the patrols. Search every corridor, every tower, every garden, and every storage hall."

His gaze became dangerous.

"If someone truly entered the palace...then find them."

The knights immediately scattered, rushing to obey. Meanwhile, Varesh strode down the corridor, fast and purposeful. His cloak billowed behind him, one hand resting upon his sword. The other was already reaching for the next order he intended to give.

Then suddenly—

THUD.

Someone appeared around the corner. Varesh nearly collided with them; his hand instantly moved toward his weapon, and then he froze as he bumped into Sarash.

Immediately Varesh bowed. "My Prince."

Sarash nodded, calm and composed, as though the palace wasn’t descending into chaos around him. "I was looking for you, Captain."

Varesh immediately straightened; something about Sarash’s expression made him listen carefully. Then the white serpent spoke.

"I need an emergency Eagle Messenger sent immediately."

Varesh frowned. "To where?"

"The Thalryn border," the captain blinked. "The border?"

Sarash nodded; his voice remained calm. "Deliver an order to the armies stationed there; they are to withdraw immediately."

Varesh stared because that made absolutely no sense. "The armies? Withdraw? My Prince...the armies have been preparing for days, and the ultimatum expires soon. Why such a sudden change?"

For a brief moment... Sarash looked directly into his eyes, and suddenly Varesh felt something he didn’t understand.

"We do not have time." Sarash’s voice lowered. "The message must reach them before sunrise."

Varesh immediately shook his head. "That is impossible."

The white serpent remained silent, and Varesh continued. "Even our fastest eagles cannot reach the border before dawn, not from here."

The corridor fell silent, then Sarash stepped forward. Only one step, and somehow the atmosphere changed, then quietly he asked—

"Captain." Varesh looked at him; the white serpent’s expression remained calm, but his eyes... were not. "Do you wish to see Thalryn burn?"

Silence.

The question struck like a blade. Varesh froze, then immediately bowed. "No, never."

Then suddenly a realization appeared: a portal. His eyes widened. "If an eagle cannot reach the border...then we shall send the message another way. The High Mage’s portals."

Immediately Sarash nodded as relief flickered across his face. "Good."

Varesh turned instantly, already moving, "I will go to High Mage Arkhazunn immediately. The border armies must receive the order before sunrise."

Then suddenly he paused only once and looked back. Something about this entire situation felt strange and wrong.

The palace chaos, the assassin, the sudden withdrawal, and the urgency in Sarash’s eyes. Pieces of a puzzle he could not yet see.

Yet before he could speak, Sarash simply smiled, and somehow...that smile answered nothing and yet explained everything.

"Go, Captain." The white serpent’s voice echoed softly. "There is still time."

Silence.

Then Varesh nodded and immediately disappeared down the corridor. Running toward the High Mage’s palace, running toward a war that had almost begun.

Meanwhile...Sarash remained standing alone; the palace continued roaring with chaos around him. Knights searched. Servants panicked. Guards sealed gates and somewhere above...an Emperor searched desperately for an invisible enemy.

The white serpent slowly lifted his gaze toward the distant ceiling, toward the throne room and toward Slyvarakh.

Then quietly...almost too softly to hear...he whispered, "The throne is waiting for you...Brother Zeramet."