Chapter 427: Reinforcements from the ministry
Halvren’s face twisted into a vindictive smile despite his earlier terror.
"You have really enraged a lot of individuals in the capital, young man. You are very arrogant and just because you have little power, you think you can fight anyone."
"Let’s see how you will fare against this."
Then his hand shot up, gesturing sharply to one of his guards.
"Signal flare! Now!"
The guard didn’t hesitate. He pulled out a specialized device—a crystalline rod that glowed with stored magical energy—and pointed it skyward. With a sharp word of activation, a brilliant bolt of light shot into the evening sky, exploding in a pattern of crimson and gold that hung there like a miniature sun.
"What is that?" Jolthar asked, watching the display with narrowed eyes.
"You’re about to find out," Halvren said, his confidence returning now that reinforcements were coming.
"You’ve committed your last crime, Baron Kaezhlar."
"You have resisted time and time again, so we were ordered to bring you by force."
Milan’s face had gone pale.
"That’s a military priority signal. That means—"
The sound of marching interrupted him. Not just marching—hundreds of synchronized footsteps, the clinking of armor, the hum of magical energy being gathered and prepared.
They poured into the front yard of the mansion from multiple directions. Knights in distinctive grey armor that seemed to drink in light rather than reflect it, their movements precise and deadly. Behind them came robed figures in white with orange trim, their hands already glowing with prepared spells.
The courtyard was suddenly filled with armed warriors and combat mages, forming ranks with military precision that spoke of elite training and absolute discipline.
Everyone in the mansion had rushed to the entrance and saw the army and was shocked greatly. Arvant had arrived with his men but stopped in his tracks, seeing the scale of the knights who arrived before the mansion. He saw Jolthar and Milan standing before the minister and the body lying on the floor. He was worried greatly and ordered all the men to move and gather.
Milan and Andrion both stared in shock at the assembly before them.
"This is insane," Andrion breathed.
"The Prime Minister actually mobilized the knights of the Shinokishi?"
"Prime Minister?" Jolthar asked, his eyes tracking the newcomers.
"Why would he involve this matter?"
Milan’s voice was tight. His expression turned serious as he narrowed his gaze on the knights.
"Bahste Fatler. He holds absolute power in the imperial administration, second only to the Emperor himself. He manages the minister court, controls most governmental functions, and is one of the Emperor’s most trusted advisors."
"Thin man, grey hair, looks like a skeleton wrapped in expensive robes," Andrion added.
"And cunningness incarnate. If he’s directly involved in this, Jolthar, it means they’re treating you as a genuine threat to imperial stability."
"He has the authority to deploy any imperial resource he deems necessary," Milan continued, his concern evident.
"Including—"
"The Shinokishi," Andrion finished, gesturing to the grey-armored knights now forming a perimeter around the mansion.
"The Knights of the Grey. They serve the imperial family directly, not the ministries or the military command. They’re one of the strongest military groups in the entire empire."
Jolthar studied the knights with professional assessment. Each one moved with the confidence of serious training and real combat experience. Their armor wasn’t decorative—it was functional, enchanted, designed for war. And there were hundreds of them filling the courtyard and the streets beyond.
Then the mages caught his attention. White robes with orange trim, each one carrying a staff or focus, their auras already active and ready to cast.
"And those?" Jolthar asked.
"Aethar Corps," Milan said grimly.
"A mage tower-sponsored group. Elite combat casters, each one capable of devastating area attacks. They’re funded directly by the imperial treasury and answer to the Prime Minister’s office."
Roughly five hundred knights. Forty-five mages. All arrayed in combat formation, clearly prepared for serious resistance.
"They brought an army," Jolthar observed with dark humor.
"To arrest one person. I’m almost flattered."
He smirked as he folded his hands, taking in the scene before him.
"This is beyond arrest," Milan said urgently. He moved closer to Jolthar, lowering his voice.
"Listen to me. They’re going to declare you a traitor to the empire. That’s the only justification for this level of response. Once that declaration is made, they can execute you on the spot without trial."
"I know," Jolthar replied calmly.
"Then you know I can’t protect you from this," Milan continued, and there was genuine pain in his voice.
"If I intervene, they’ll accuse me of harboring a traitor, Andrion too. We’ll be arrested alongside you, stripped of our titles, and possibly executed."
"Even I’m not immune to this level of crime."
"Which is why you’re not going to intervene," Jolthar said firmly.
Milan looked stricken. "Jolthar, I can’t just—"
"Yes, you can," Jolthar interrupted.
"And you will. Because I’m not asking you to throw away everything you’ve built on a futile gesture."
He placed a hand on Milan’s shoulder.
"You have your own goals, remember? You can’t do that if you’re dead or imprisoned for treason."
"He’s right, brother," Andrion said quietly, though he looked equally unhappy about it.
"If we stand with him now, we lose everything. And we can’t help anyone if we’re stripped of all power and influence."
Milan’s hands clenched into fists. "This is wrong. You defended yourself against a corrupt official. That shouldn’t result in... this."
"In a just world, you’d be right," Jolthar agreed.
"But we don’t live in a just world. We live in this one. And in this one, killing an imperial magistrate enforcer—even a bastard like Veyra—comes with consequences."
The knights had finished their formation now. The Shinokishi created multiple rings of armed warriors, each layer ready to support the next. The Aethar Corps mages positioned themselves at strategic points, their prepared spells creating a visible network of magical energy that would obliterate anything caught in its focus.
Halvren stood near the entrance, practically glowing with vindication.
When he spoke, his voice carried across the courtyard with official authority.
"Baron Jolthar Kaezhlar! By order of Prime Minister Bahste Fatler and the authority of his Imperial Majesty’s government, you are hereby declared an enemy of imperial law and order! You have committed murder against an imperial official, defied lawful authority, and demonstrated flagrant contempt for the empire’s justice!"
The declaration echoed in the sudden silence.
"This is your final opportunity," Halvren continued, clearly savoring the moment.
"Surrender immediately, submit to imperial custody, and you will be granted a trial before the full ministers’ court. Refuse, and you will be pacified by whatever force is necessary.
What is your answer?"
