Chapter 148: Who did this
One Day Later...
The council chamber stretched wide and tall. Marble columns lined the walls, each one carved with scenes of old battles, phoenixes rising from ash, kings crowned in flame.
Sunlight poured through the high windows. Dust drifted in the beams.
A long table was placed at the center. The wood was dark and polished until it gleamed. Twenty chairs surrounded it, and most of them were filled.
Nobles in their house colors. Military officers in dress uniforms. A few priests in white robes trimmed with gold. All of them sat rigid, their faces drawn tight.
At the head of the table sat the King.
King Zardic Grey, who appeared to be in his mid-fifties, though the deep lines around his eyes and mouth suggested he’d aged faster than his years.
Gray threaded through what had once been dark hair, now pulled back from a face that had seen too many difficult decisions.
He wore crimson robes trimmed in gold, the phoenix crest embroidered across his chest in silver thread that caught the light. Instead of a crown, he wore a circlet of iron and ruby that rested heavy on his brow. His hands lay flat on the table in front of him, weathered and scarred across the knuckles from what looked like old sword work.
Beside him sat the Queen.
Queen Vesperine Grey.
She appeared to be younger than her husband by perhaps ten years.
Her auburn hair had been swept up and pinned with gold combs, revealing a long elegant neck.
Sharp green eyes moved constantly across the assembled nobles, missing nothing. She wore deep blue silk that was simpler in cut than the King’s formal robes, but the emerald necklace resting at her throat likely cost more than some of the baronies represented in this room.
Her posture remained perfect throughout, straight-backed with her hands folded carefully in her lap.
She wasn’t looking at the nobles gathered around the table. Her attention stayed fixed on her husband.
The King’s jaw worked once, then twice.
When he finally spoke, his voice carried through the chamber despite being barely above normal conversation volume.
"Seventeen."
The room went completely still.
"Seventeen officers are dead." He let that sit for a moment.
"Grand Marshal Corvin. General Thrace. Admiral Kellis. Commander Veylen." He listed each name slowly, letting them drop like stones into water. "Four more are wounded badly enough that they may never recover. Three are missing entirely, and we have no idea if they’re dead or captured."
Nobody moved. Nobody spoke.
"Our military command structure has been crippled in a single night." The King’s eyes moved across the table, meeting the gaze of each person in turn. "So somebody needs to tell me how this happened."
Silence stretched for several long seconds.
Then one of the military officers cleared his throat. General Harrick, from the look of his uniform, one of the surviving senior commanders. He stood slowly, his chair scraping against the stone floor.
"Your Majesty." His voice came out rough, like he hadn’t slept.
"We’ve been analyzing the attack pattern. The coordination, the timing, the barrier placements." He paused, choosing his words carefully.
"It was... sophisticated. Extremely so. They knew exactly where our command staff would be. They knew our patrol schedules, our guard rotations, our emergency protocols."
"Inside information," someone muttered from down the table.
Harrick nodded grimly. "Almost certainly, my lord. But there’s more." He looked directly at the King.
"We’ve recovered bodies from multiple attack sites. Twenty-three corpses so far that we’ve been able to examine."
"And?" The King’s tone was dangerous.
Harrick’s jaw tightened. "They’re not foreign soldiers, Your Majesty."
The Queen’s hands tensed in her lap, though her expression didn’t change.
"Explain," King Zardic said quietly.
"The bodies we recovered, we’ve identified most of them. Mercenaries from the southern territories. Criminal enforcers from the lower districts. A few former soldiers who were dishonorably discharged over the past three years." Harrick’s voice turned bitter. "They’re all from Vedgard, Your Majesty. Every single one we’ve identified so far. Our own people."
Someone down the table swore under their breath.
"Hired thugs," another noble said, disbelief clear in his voice. "You’re telling us our military command was assassinated by hired thugs from our own kingdom?"
"Not just thugs, Lord Castern." Harrick shook his head. "The attackers in the military district were different. Professional. Well-trained. Those were actual assassins, foreign operatives, we believe. But the forces that hit the civilian sectors, created the diversions, maintained the barriers..." He gestured helplessly. "Local muscle. Paid to cause chaos and keep our forces divided."
King Zardic’s knuckles went white against the dark wood. "Someone hired our own citizens to help massacre our military leadership."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The King looked at Queen Vesperine. Something passed between them.
Then he turned back to the assembled council, and his voice came out cold as winter steel.
"Find out who paid them. I want names. I want to know which houses were involved, which merchants provided logistics, which nobles looked the other way." His eyes swept the table again.
"Because if our own people helped orchestrate this, then we don’t just have an external enemy. We have traitors in our own kingdom."
The silence that followed pressed heavy on the room.
Then one of the nobles spoke up.
"Your Majesty, with respect, an investigation of that scope could take months. Years even. The criminal networks in the lower districts are layered. They don’t keep records."
"Then we start with what we can trace," King Zardic said flatly.
"General Harrick, I want every recovered body identified. Find their families, their associates, where they drank, who they owed money to. Someone hired them, which means someone paid them. Money leaves trails."
Harrick nodded. "Already underway, Your Majesty. We’re also questioning survivors from the captured attack groups."
"What about the barriers?"
This came from an older woman in mage robes sitting near the middle of the table. Archmage Celene, one of the royal court mages.
"Those weren’t simple containment spells. The synchronization alone would require multiple casters working in concert, all with significant power."
"We’re investigating that as well, Archmage." Harrick gestured to one of the officers beside him.
"Lieutenant Korvas has been coordinating with your order on the magical analysis."
A younger officer stood. "The barrier magic used was... unusual, Your Majesty. It bore markers of standard military ward-craft, but modified. Strengthened. Someone with deep knowledge of our defensive protocols designed those spells specifically to counter our response methods."
Queen Vesperine spoke for the first time, her voice calm but sharp. "Meaning what, exactly?"
Korvas swallowed. "Meaning whoever planned this had access to classified military information, Your Grace. Not just troop movements or schedules. Actual spell matrices, ward designs, essence signature protocols. Things that should only be known to senior military mages and the royal court."
The implication hung in the air like smoke.
"A traitor in the palace," someone said quietly.
King Zardic’s expression didn’t change, but something shifted in his eyes. Something cold and dangerous.
"We will proceed carefully," he said. "No accusations without evidence. But—" his gaze swept the room again.
"Everyone in this kingdom is suspect until proven otherwise. That includes the noble houses. That includes the military. That includes the church." His eyes landed briefly on the priests at the table. "No one is above suspicion."
One of the priests opened his mouth to protest, then thought better of it.
"Lord Chancellor," the King addressed a thin man with silver hair sitting to his right.
"I want movement logs for every noble family over the past three months. Who visited the capital, when, and for how long. Cross-reference that with the attack timing."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Duke Garran." The King’s attention shifted to a broad-shouldered man further down the table. "You control the eastern trade routes. I want your people questioning every merchant, every caravan master, every dock worker. If foreign operatives moved through your territory to reach the capital, someone saw them."
Duke Garran inclined his head. His face was carefully neutral. "Of course, Your Majesty. My intelligence network is at your disposal."
King Zardic stood. Everyone else rose immediately after him.
"This attack was designed to cripple us. To make us weak before our enemies can strike again.They succeeded in killing seventeen of our finest officers. They did not succeed in breaking this kingdom. We will rebuild our command structure. We will find the traitors who made this possible. And we will make an example of them that will echo through history."
He paused, letting that settle.
"Until we know who we can trust, trust no one outside this room. And even here—" his eyes moved across each face, "watch your backs. This council is dismissed."
Chairs scraped. Nobles stood, bowing before filing out in small groups, already whispering amongst themselves.
Queen Vesperine remained seated, watching them go. Once the last noble had exited and the guards pulled the doors shut, she finally spoke.
"You think Garran’s involved."
It wasn’t a question.
King Zardic sat back down heavily. The weight of the crown seemed suddenly visible on him. "His territory is the most likely entry point for foreign operatives. His intelligence network is too good, he should have known something was coming."
"Or he did know, and chose not to warn us."
"Or that." The King rubbed his face.
"But I can’t move against a Duke without proof. Not now, not when everything’s this fragile."
Vesperine’s fingers drummed once against the table. "Then how about the students."