Chapter 10: The King Without a Face
Chapter 10: The King Without a Face
The march had begun.
Hundreds of wolves moved in perfect silence.
No one spoke.
No one hesitated.
Their glowing eyes remained fixed on the eastern horizon.
The pull of the Ember Crown was absolute.
"Stop them!" Selene shouted.
Several warriors rushed forward, trying to block the path.
It was useless.
The entranced wolves simply walked around them, never breaking stride.
One young warrior grabbed his own brother by the shoulders.
"Wake up!"
There was no response.
Only empty eyes.
Only another silent step forward.
Kael stepped in front of an elderly pack member.
The old wolf looked straight through him.
As though Kael didn't exist.
With a heavy heart, Kael struck the man's shoulder, hoping pain would break the spell.
It didn't.
The elder continued walking.
Fenrir watched grimly.
"The Crown does not control their bodies."
"It commands their instincts."
"Their souls believe they are returning to their rightful king."
Aria tightened her grip on the Moonblade.
"There has to be a way to stop it."
"There is."
Fenrir looked directly at the Heartstone.
"But your power has not fully awakened."
Lucien spun the Shadow Spear in his hand.
"You'll never catch him now."
"The new king already has an army."
The Guardian suddenly hurled his silver spear.
Lucien barely twisted aside.
The weapon sliced across his shoulder, drawing blood.
For the first time, Lucien winced.
"You still fight well... old friend."
The Guardian didn't answer.
He charged.
The two veterans collided once again, their weapons showering the battlefield with silver and black sparks.
Meanwhile, Aria felt the Heartstone growing hotter.
Its light spread through her veins.
Another vision seized her.
She stood atop a towering mountain beneath a silver sky.
Four warriors knelt before Fenrir.
Each carried one Sacred Relic.
Each wore armor bearing the crest of the Moon Council.
Fenrir spoke in a voice that shook the heavens.
"Power is never meant to rule through fear."
"The Relics shall never belong to one bloodline."
"They shall belong to those who choose sacrifice over glory."
The vision shifted.
One of the four warriors removed his helmet.
It was Adrian Vale.
Aria gasped.
"My father... was a Sentinel."
The vision faded.
She stumbled back into reality.
Fenrir nodded slowly.
"He never told you."
"He wanted you to live as an ordinary child."
Selene wiped tears from her eyes.
"He believed the war had ended."
"He wanted you to have a future."
Before Aria could answer, the earth trembled again.
A wolf emerged from the forest.
Then another.
Then dozens more.
Their fur was stained with ash.
Ancient scars covered their bodies.
Each wore fragments of weathered silver armor.
The Guardian lowered his weapon.
"It can't be..."
The newcomers stopped before Fenrir.
Without speaking, every one of them knelt.
Fenrir inclined his head.
"The Gray Watch."
Kael frowned.
"Who are they?"
"The last guardians of the old world."
The wolves slowly removed their hoods.
Some looked no older than thirty.
Others appeared ancient.
Yet every pair of eyes carried centuries of sorrow.
Their leader stepped forward.
His silver beard reached the middle of his chest.
A jagged scar crossed his blind left eye.
He knelt before Aria instead of Fenrir.
"My Lady."
"My name is Garrick."
"I served your grandfather."
Aria stared in disbelief.
"My grandfather?"
"He died protecting House Vale."
Garrick nodded.
"He did."
"But before his final battle..."
"He ordered us to disappear."
"To wait."
"To wait for you."
The remaining members of the Gray Watch bowed their heads.
"For twenty years."
"We obeyed."
Lucien's expression hardened.
"So you've finally crawled out of hiding."
Garrick rose slowly.
"We hid because the Heir was not ready."
"Now she is."
Lucien laughed.
"Ready?"
"She has one relic."
"We have another."
"You've already lost."
A deafening horn echoed from the eastern mountains.
Everyone turned.
Dark banners appeared along the distant ridges.
Hundreds.
Then thousands.
An army.
The soldiers marched in flawless formation.
Black armor reflected the crimson moonlight.
At their center rode a lone figure atop a massive black wolf.
His face was hidden behind a featureless obsidian mask.
Upon his head rested a crown of molten gold.
The Ember Crown.
Even from miles away, its fiery glow dominated the night.
Every wolf still under its influence immediately dropped to one knee.
Fenrir's muscles tensed.
"So..."
"The False King reveals himself."
The rider slowly raised one hand.
The entire army stopped instantly.
Not a single soldier moved.
Not one sound came from their ranks.
The masked king's voice echoed unnaturally across the valley.
"Fenrir."
"It has been a long time."
Fenrir stared at him.
"I know that voice."
The king chuckled.
"You should."
"You crowned my ancestor."
Shock rippled through everyone present.
The king removed one black glove.
On the back of his hand burned an ancient silver crest.
The same crest engraved on the ruined walls of the Moon Council.
The Guardian's face turned ghostly pale.
"No..."
"That's impossible."
Selene whispered,
"The royal bloodline..."
Lucien bowed his head toward the distant king.
"My liege."
The masked ruler slowly turned his gaze toward Aria.
Though his face remained hidden, she felt as though he were smiling.
"Bring me the Daughter of Vale."
His voice became cold enough to freeze the air.
"Alive."
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Before anyone could react, thousands of black-armored wolves charged down the mountainside.
The Second War of the Moon Packs had begun.
