Chapter 144: Seat and watch

Chapter 144: Seat and watch Queen Elysia stepped forward, her royal bearing unmistakable despite the blood and grime that stained her armor. Her voice cut through the vast throne room with the authority of one born to command, each word carrying the weight of centuries of rule and the desperate fury of a mother whose child had been stolen. "Where is my son?" The demand echoed off the pristine white walls, reverberating through the chamber with such force that even the elite guards flanking Kiada shifted uncomfortably. "Where is Eren? And where is Viva?" Her air magic responded to her emotional state, creating subtle currents that stirred the oppressive atmosphere of the throne room. Kiada’s smile widened, revealing teeth that seemed unnaturally sharp in the ethereal light emanating from the walls. She leaned back in her throne with casual arrogance, her fingers drumming against the armrests as she savored the moment. The sound of her nails against stone created an almost musical rhythm that seemed designed to unnerve her visitors. "Ah, we finally meet," Kiada purred, her voice carrying an undertone of malicious amusement. "The legendary Queen Elysia, whose beloved son has caused us so much... inconvenience." She paused, letting the words sink in before continuing. "Tell me, Your Majesty, how does it feel to know that your precious boy is beyond your reach?" Elysia’s jaw tightened, her maternal instincts flaring like a protective flame. "He is under my protection, as are all the children of my realm. Whatever twisted game you’re playing ends now." The air around her began to shimmer with barely contained power, pressure building as her magic responded to her rising anger. "Protection?" Kiada laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "From where I sit, it appears your protection has proven rather... inadequate." She gestured dismissively with one pale hand. "Your son is currently performing the TUNA ritual with Luna herself and my finest warrior. Such an honor for one so young." The words hit Elysia like a physical blow, her composed facade cracking for just a moment before royal training reasserted itself. "What ritual? What are you doing to him?" "Oh, nothing he won’t survive," Kiada replied with mock concern. "Probably. The TUNA process is quite... transformative. As for your little Thornvale warrior—Viva, was it?—she’s in safe hands. My hands, to be precise." Her smile became predatory. "And speaking of safe hands, I have your precious Naia as well." Commander Lyra’s head snapped toward a shadowed alcove near Kiada’s throne, her enhanced vision piercing the gloom where others saw only darkness. What she found there made her blood run cold and her water magic respond with violent agitation. "Kiran," she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper but carrying clearly in the acoustically perfect chamber. The figure stepped forward into the light, revealing features that had once been trusted, beloved even. Kiran had been more than just a spy for Queen Elysia—she had been a confidante, a friend, someone who had shared meals at the royal table and helped train Lyra in the subtle arts of information gathering. "Hello, dear Lyra," Kiran said, her voice warm and familiar despite the circumstances. Her smile stretched impossibly wide across her face, reaching almost from ear to ear in a grotesque parody of the expressions they remembered. "Surprised to see me?" Lyra’s water blades materialized instantly, their edges crackling with barely contained fury. "You treacherous bitch," she snarled, her usual composure evaporating in the face of such profound betrayal. "My mother trusted you. We all trusted you. How long have you been feeding information to these monsters?" "Long enough," Kiran replied, seemingly unconcerned by the weapons pointed in her direction. "Long enough to know about every patrol route, every safe house, every weakness in your precious kingdoms’ defenses. Did you really think your recent successes were due to skill alone?" The implications crashed over the assembled warriors like a tide of ice water. Every battle they had fought, every victory they had achieved, had been orchestrated. They had been led here deliberately, their path guided by information provided by their own supposed ally. "You set us up," Commander Maria said, her voice heavy with the weight of understanding. "All of this—the prisoner who gave us directions, the relatively light resistance we faced getting here—it was all planned." Kiran’s smile grew even wider, if such a thing were possible. "Every step, every decision, every small victory that kept you moving forward. You’ve been dancing to our tune since the moment you entered this realm." Elysia’s rage was building to dangerous levels, the air around her beginning to visible distort from the pressure she was unconsciously creating. "Where is Naia?" she demanded, her voice carrying the promise of swift and brutal retribution. "Ah yes, your precious intelligence officer," Kiada interjected, clearly enjoying the revelation’s impact. She gestured toward another shadowed area of the throne room. "Why don’t you see for yourself?" From the darkness emerged two guards dragging a third figure between them. Naia was barely recognizable—her once-pristine uniform was torn and bloodied, her face bearing the marks of systematic torture. But her eyes, though dulled with pain, still held the fierce intelligence that had made her invaluable to the Moonlight Kingdom. "Naia!" Elysia took an involuntary step forward before catching herself. The sight of her trusted officer in such condition threatened to overwhelm her tactical thinking with maternal fury. "Your Majesty," Naia managed to whisper, her voice hoarse from screaming. "It’s... it’s a trap. They know... everything." "Of course it’s a trap," Kiada said cheerfully. "But what choice do you have? Your son is here, your people are here, and now you’re here. The circle is complete." She leaned forward slightly, her voice taking on a more commanding tone. "Now, I suggest you drop your weapons. All of them." "Like hell," Captain Diana spat, her air blade humming with increased intensity. "You think we’re just going to surrender after everything we’ve been through?" "I think," Kiada replied with infinite patience, "that you’ll do exactly as I say if you want to see your precious ones alive again." As if summoned by her words, warriors began emerging from concealed positions throughout the throne room. They materialized from alcoves that had seemed empty, rose from sections of floor that had appeared solid, and descended from heights that should have been impossible to reach silently. Within moments, the rescue party found themselves surrounded by at least fifty elite fighters, all with weapons drawn and ready. "Shit," Commander Elira muttered, her tactical mind quickly assessing their hopeless situation. "We’re completely outnumbered." "The numbers don’t matter," Lyra said through gritted teeth, her fury at Kiran’s betrayal overriding her usual strategic thinking. "We can fight our way out." "Can you?" Kiada asked mockingly. "Even if you somehow managed to defeat all my warriors—which you won’t—what happens to your precious hostages? Do you think I’ll keep them alive out of the goodness of my heart?" The threat hung in the air like a poisonous cloud. Every warrior in the rescue party understood the tactical reality: they were trapped, outnumbered, and their primary objectives were being held as leverage against them. "You want us to drop our weapons," Elysia said slowly, her mind racing through possible alternatives. "And then what? You kill us anyway?" "Kill you?" Kiada laughed again, the sound echoing strangely in the vast chamber. "Oh, Your Majesty, death would be far too simple. Too... final. No, I have much more interesting plans for Moonlight’s royal family." Commander Maria’s illusion magic was already working, creating subtle distortions that might provide escape routes if the situation deteriorated further. But even her considerable skills were limited by the sheer number of enemies and the confined space of the throne room. "Some of my people won’t go down without a fight," Elysia warned, glancing at her assembled warriors. She could see the reluctance in their faces—trained fighters being asked to surrender their weapons was like asking them to surrender their souls. "Then some of your people will die," Kiada replied with casual indifference. "Along with your son, your spy, and anyone else I decide has outlived their usefulness. The choice is yours, but I suggest you choose quickly. My patience, unlike my hospitality, has limits." The standoff stretched for long moments, tension building like pressure in a sealed container. Warriors on both sides remained poised for violence, waiting for a signal from their respective leaders. Finally, Elysia made her decision. With visible reluctance, she allowed her air blade to dissipate and raised her hands slowly. "Stand down," she commanded her warriors, her voice heavy with the weight of defeat. "All of you, drop your weapons." The sound of steel hitting stone echoed through the throne room as the rescue party reluctantly complied. Each weapon that fell seemed to take a piece of their hope with it, the metallic clanging marking their transition from rescuers to prisoners. "Excellent," Kiada purred, settling back into her throne with obvious satisfaction. "I do so appreciate reasonable people." "Now what?" Elysia demanded, her hands still raised but her voice carrying no hint of submission despite their circumstances. Kiada’s smile became almost beatific in its cruel satisfaction. "Now? Now we wait for the Veilwalker to complete his TUNA ritual with luna. Once that process is finished, we can proceed to the truly entertaining portion of our evening together." The words sent a chill through every member of the rescue party, but it was Kiran who provided the final, crushing blow to their morale. "Did I mention," she said, her impossibly wide smile somehow growing even broader, "that the TUNA ritual is irreversible? Whatever Eren was when you knew him, that boy is gone forever. What emerges from Luna’s chambers will be something... entirely different." The throne room fell silent except for the sound of Naia’s labored breathing and the soft sobbing of warriors who had just realized they might have arrived too late to save anyone at all.