Emperor's harem: Transmigrated with SSS mana talent
Chapter 81: [Truly tragic]

Chapter 81: [Truly tragic]

The pain hit all at once, and he dropped to one knee, gasping.

"Kael!" Elara rushed forward, but froze halfway, eyes wide.

Robin stared, stunned. "What... what was that?!"

Kael breaths were shallow, labored. Sweat slicked his forehead. Blood trickled down his fingertips.

Elara finally moved. She crouched beside him, carefully, her eyes scanning his face.

"Are you alright? Why did you push yourself that far?"

Kael forced a crooked smile through the pain.

"How could I lose..." he winced, "my future wife... the woman I love the most?"

He even nailed the soft gaze—eyes half-lidded, voice full of strained affection.

Elara blinked once.

Then stared at him, deadpan.

"Really?"

Kael coughed awkwardly and looked away. "...Worth a shot."

They both knew the truth—there were no feelings.

Not yet.

But for a moment, the battlefield’s tension cracked just enough to let in a breath of quiet humanity.

Far away, Robin’s eyes flicked between Kael and Elara.

Then, his gaze shifted toward the castle balcony, where all the court members stood, watching in silence — some with thinly veiled smirks, others with guarded curiosity.

Robin’s jaw tightened. He swallowed hard, the weight of the moment settling in.

Turning back to Kael, he thought,

This isn’t just some noble boy anymore. He’s truly the Chosen One.

A chill ran down Robin’s spine — not from fear, but from awe.

The game had changed.

###

Soon after his wounds were treated and his strength returned—though the pain in his arm still throbbed beneath the bandages—Kael found himself standing in front of the King of Velmora.

The throne room was vast, silent, and oppressively grand.

Sunlight streamed through tall windows, casting long shadows across polished marble.

The air was thick with scrutiny.

To the left of the throne stood the three dukes of Velmora.

Duke Thamric of the North, tall and granite-faced, draped in dark wolf-fur and steel trim.

To the right, Duchess Selvaria of the South, elegant and cold-eyed, her presence like a blade wrapped in velvet.

And next to her, Duke Vornell of the East, gaunt and hawkish, leaning on an obsidian cane that likely held more secrets than support.

Kael’s eyes scanned them carefully. All powerful. All dangerous.

And yet, the one man missing from this tableau... was his father.

Duke Drenlor—Kaelion’s biological father.

Brutally slain by Kael’s own hands, though none here knew it.

Not yet.

Kael smiled inwardly, lips not even twitching. The man who once ruled him with iron and fire was now just ash beneath a ruined crypt.

One down.

A rustle beside him—Yue had arrived.

"That was a good fight," she whispered under her breath, so quiet only Kael could hear.

"But it didn’t leave the castle."

He smirked faintly. Of course it didn’t. Too many egos to protect.

"They’re all measuring you now," she added, tone sharpened.

"Every move from here is watched."

Kael didn’t flinch. He knew.

Yue’s eyes flicked across the room.

"The king," she continued, "is Rank 5. The dukes—all Rank 4. That man near the window—" she gestured subtly with her eyes, "—he’s Master Caldus, a professor from the Magic Academy. Rank 4 as well."

Kael spotted him. Robes of deep indigo, eyes like a snake under glass.

"And the army?" Kael murmured.

"Five generals. All Rank 4. Dozens of Rank 3s. More than enough to crush rebellions."

Kael’s throat tightened for a second.

Sweat prickled beneath his collar.

Capturing this kingdom... is going to be harder than I thought.

The King coughed, a ragged, wet sound that echoed through the chamber. His frailty was obvious now—shoulders sunken, skin sallow, fingers trembling as they rested on the armrest of the ornate throne.

Kael watched it all, unimpressed. If I had to fake an illness, he thought dryly, I’d sell it better than that.

Beside him, Yue stifled a laugh, eyes sparkling with mischief.

Then the king raised his head, voice rasping through the silence.

"I’m... very saddened to hear of what happened at House Drenlor." He paused for effect.

"To think, you are the only survivor. Tragic. Truly tragic."

The room remained still, every eye trained on Kael.

"But," the king continued,

"We must all understand the truth of what transpired. The court deserves clarity. Please, Kaelion—speak. Tell us what happened in your duchy that night."

Kael bowed his head just enough to show reverence, not weakness.

When he looked up again, he wore a mask of perfect, quiet heartbreak.

The weight of loss in his gaze was almost art.

Yue rolled her eyes so hard, her head tilted slightly. Drama queen, she mouthed.

Kael drew in a breath, eyes lowered as if struggling to contain the flood of memory.

"It was early morning," he began, voice lined with sorrow.

"Every day at that hour, I tended to my father’s illness. He had grown weak... but still proud. Still stubborn."

Yue wanted to choke him.

Treating illness? she mouthed, incredulous.

Kael went on, unfazed. His eyes shimmered faintly with unshed tears, the perfect balance of vulnerability and dignity.

"We heard shouting... fire spells, screams. My father and I both stood. Tense. Confused. Then—my brother, Aerik, burst in. He said... he said the house had been attacked. That the devil had broken through our wards."

He paused, voice catching.

"Father went pale. Not from fear—but from recognition. As if he’d known this moment might come."

Gasps rippled through the court.

Kael’s voice dropped, becoming quieter.

More intimate.

"There was chaos. Flames. Steel. Blood on the walls of our ancestral home. My brothers, our guards, even the servants... all caught in the slaughter."

"And then..." Kael hesitated, glancing up as if searching the vaulted ceiling for strength.

"Then came my uncle. I don’t even know how he got there. But he arrived, sword drawn, charging into the flames like some... vengeful god."

He shuddered.

"It was a brutal fight. Beyond anything I’ve ever seen. My uncle and the devil—spells and steel crashing, tearing the house apart. I—I saw them break through stone with their fists alone. I—" he stopped, swallowing, tears now trailing down his cheek.

"I thought we had a chance."

He wiped his eyes slowly, letting the silence stretch.

"But in the end... "