Episode 51: The Drums of Elaria

The fire was dying when Kuro stirred. His emberlight eyes opened slowly, sharp and alert to the rhythm rolling through the earth.

The sound came in waves. Deep, relentless. Not thunder or storms.

Drums.

War drums.

He pushed himself upright, the shadows of the Sovereign Regalia whispering across his armor. The world beyond their small campfire glowed under a silver moon, the plateau stretching into the distance where forests faded into darkness.

And far away, on the horizon, lights moved. Dozens. Hundreds.

Not stars.

Torches.

Akira woke in the same moment, his katana sliding silently from its sheath. He followed Kuro's gaze, jaw tightening. "Army. At least two legions, maybe more. Marching this way."

Reina's eyes snapped open at his words. She pushed herself up on one elbow, scanning the horizon. Her lips twisted into a sharp grin. "Figures. We tear apart a cursed labyrinth, and the vultures come circling."

Elira was the last to wake, her violet eyes hazed with sleep. But when she heard it—the drums, the faint vibration in the soil—her body stilled. Her gaze fixed on the horizon, widening in recognition.

"…That rhythm. That formation." Her breath hitched. "It's Elaria's army."

The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the crackling fire.

Akira looked between them, brow furrowed. "Wait. Your kingdom's troops? Shouldn't that be good news?"

Elira's fingers curled tightly around the crystal circlet at her brow. "…Not necessarily. If they've come here, it means word has already reached the capital. And if they know we broke Norvahel's curse—"

"They'll want answers," Kuro finished, his voice low.

Her gaze flicked to him, searching his face. "…And they may not like the answers we give."

By dawn, the army was visible.

Banners of violet and silver fluttered in the wind, each marked with the crest of the Valenhart line—a roaring phoenix crowned in frostfire. Thousands of armored soldiers marched with precision, their armor gleaming and their lances raised high.

At the head of the force rode knights in ornate plate, their mounts armored with steel. At their center rode a carriage of black and silver—not an ordinary transport, but a royal envoy.

Elira's breath trembled. "The High Council. They've sent the Tribunal Guard."

Reina whistled low, crossing her arms. "That doesn't sound friendly."

"It isn't," Elira admitted grimly. "The Tribunal Guard is sent only when the crown sees a matter of national survival."

Akira's eyes narrowed. "So they're not here to celebrate us. They're here to judge us."

Kuro's armor shifted faintly, threads of shadow brushing against the wind. He said nothing at first, only watched as the army approached like an inevitable tide. When he finally spoke, his words were iron.

"Then let them judge."

The meeting was set at the foot of the plateau, where open ground stretched like a battlefield waiting to be claimed. The four descended slowly, every step weighed with tension.

Elira walked ahead, her royal circlet catching the dawn light. Even after the Labyrinth's trials, she moved with the grace of a princess. Yet her fists were clenched, hidden in the folds of her robe.

Kuro walked beside her, silent, the Sovereign Regalia gleaming like liquid night. His twin daggers rested crossed along his back, humming faintly with a life of their own.

Akira and Reina flanked behind, blades ready, their eyes scanning every movement from the army.

When the vanguard halted, dust clouding the morning air, a voice cut through the silence.

"Halt where you stand!"

From the ranks of knights rode a man clad in ornate froststeel armor, his plume shimmering pale blue. His face was stern, his eyes sharp. He dismounted with measured precision, every motion practiced.

"Elira Valenhart," he said, his voice carrying command. "By decree of His Majesty, you are ordered to stand before the Tribunal of Elaria. You will answer for your actions within Norvahel."

Elira's chin lifted, her voice steady despite the tension in her frame. "Sir Kaelen. Captain of the Tribunal Guard. I recognize your authority."

"Then you know," Kaelen replied coldly, "that recognition does not spare you from inquiry."

His eyes shifted, locking onto Kuro. The disdain in his gaze was clear. "And you. The outsider. The one they call the Monarch's vessel. You will answer as well."

The weight of thousands of armored soldiers pressed down in silence.

Kuro's emberlight eyes met Kaelen's without flinching. His voice was low and steady. "Then ask."

The Tribunal's questioning began immediately.

They circled the four like wolves, words sharp, accusations layered.

"You tampered with the Seals of Norvahel—ancient bonds older than the kingdom itself."

"You wield powers no man should command—shadows that rise from the dead."

"You stand beside the crown princess, though you are not of noble blood."

Each question was not a request for truth, but a weapon—carefully crafted to wound and seed doubt.

Elira stood firm, answering with clarity. "Without us, the curse would remain. Without Kuro, the Labyrinth would still devour this land."

Kaelen's reply was swift, cutting. "Without you, Princess, the bloodline of Valenhart would remain untainted by association with this outsider."

The words sliced through the air. Elira stiffened, fury flashing in her violet eyes. "He is no outsider. He is the one who stood where no knight dared, who broke the chains that even our ancestors could not. He—"

Her voice caught, trembling with rage. "…He is my ally."

A ripple ran through the Tribunal ranks, whispers rising.

Kaelen's gaze darkened. "Ally. Or something more?"

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Kuro's hand flexed at his side, shadows stirring. He saw the trap—the way Kaelen's words weren't aimed at him, but at her. At her place. At her crown.

Before Elira could speak, Kuro stepped forward, his voice calm but firm.

"She owes you no defense. What she chooses—ally, friend, more—is hers. Not yours."

For a moment, silence stretched. Then Kaelen's lips curled into a thin, cold smile. "Very well. Then let the Tribunal decide."

The soldiers shifted, their formation parting. From the carriage at the center of the army stepped three robed figures, their hoods drawn low. Their presence was suffocating—not with magic, but with authority.

The High Council.

The Tribunal.

They moved with the weight of judgment, their voices unified as they spoke.

"Kuro Jin. Elira Valenhart. You stand accused of breaking ancient bonds, wielding unnatural powers, and endangering the kingdom by awakening shadows that should remain dead. You will be brought to Elaria to stand trial."

Elira's fists clenched. "You would shackle those who saved this land?"

The Tribunal's reply was cold. "Salvation and heresy are often the same coin. Which you represent will be decided by the crown."

Reina hissed under her breath. "These bastards…"

Akira's hand hovered at his katana. "Say the word, Kuro."

But Kuro raised a hand, stopping them. His emberlight eyes never left the Tribunal, his voice steady as stone.

"Fine. We'll stand before your crown."

Gasps rippled through the soldiers. Elira turned sharply toward him. "Kuro—"

He met her gaze, softening only for her. "If we run, we prove them right. If we face them, we prove ourselves."

Her breath caught, her heart twisting at the calm fire in his words. She wanted to protest—but the strength in his eyes steadied her.

"…Then we face them. Together."

By dusk, the march began.

The four were placed at the heart of the Tribunal's formation, not bound but watched by a hundred eyes. The road to Elaria stretched long and heavy, the air thick with tension.

As they rode, Kuro's thoughts drifted—not to the Tribunal or the soldiers, but to the path ahead.

Elaria. The royal capital. The heart of this kingdom.

And the place where their greatest battles would not be fought with blades but with words, with crowns, with bloodlines.

He glanced at Elira, her gaze distant, violet eyes reflecting the sunset. For all her poise, he saw the storm within her.

And silently, he vowed—no matter what judgment awaited, he would not let them take her light.

[System Alert: New Arc Unlocked – The Crown's Trial]

[Warning: Political Authority vs. Monarch's Dominion]

[Progression Path: Shadow Sovereign – Stage Two Pending]

The drums of Elaria beat on.

And the war for truth was only beginning.

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[To Be Continued…]

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