The Legends of Kartas | Ongoing

21. BEGINNING OF THE END

Present Day, The Royal Council

Stunned silence imbued the great hall as streaks of red splattered over the round table and stained the map of Kartas. The explosion of blood splashed over Jimin, coloring half of his silver hair a dark scarlet. When his father's body hit the dais, the loud thud resounded in Jimin's blood-soaked ears.

Jimin didn't know what to do—what to think. Lifting his head, he saw the other sovereigns limp in their seats, blood gushing out of a similar hole in their heads. The other princes looked as shocked as everyone else in the room. There were seven dead bodies—no, eight. The Crown Prince of Vita—Novas, Jimin believed—sat slumped in his chair, a deep gash marring the side of his head.

Novas's golden eyes were wide open but lifeless, and his chest was not moving to a stable rhythm. Oh, Gods, Jimin thought, his fingers clenching around a chunk of his breeches. After assessing the damage at the table, he gritted his teeth and slowly turned his head towards his father. He had to hold in a gag.

King Leonis's neck was twisted at an unnatural angle, a bone protruding from his skin, and there was a wide hole in his head. Jimin's mind blanked, and the world, along with his vision, began to shake violently. Ice crystallized in his heart and froze his blood in its rampant wake. A numbing cold consumed him, and as he tried to fight against it, a gut-wrenching scream freed him from his inner struggle.

Across the table, Prince Min Yoongi of Bellum was clutching his left shoulder as blood seeped between his fingers, cries of pain escaping him. The Bellan guards were already by his side, checking his and the king's wounds. In fact, all the other kingdoms' guards were in action, scrambling and drawing their weapons in case of another attack.

Jimin stared at the tumult unfolding before him as if he was sitting on the sidelines and felt overwhelmed by everything. Raising his hands to cover his ears from the chaos, he shook his head. His father and the other sovereigns were dead, their skins sickly blanched, and memories of Tobias lying on his sickbed blurred Jimin's head.

Panting, he closed his eyes. Who was supposed to lead? Tobias was dead. His father was dead. Who was the king? It couldn't be Jimin because the people despised and blamed him for Tobias's death. They would burn him, curse him.

Jimin, I'm sorry.

Tobias. Oh, Tobias. Jimin had failed his brother—had broken his trust. It was all Jimin's fault. He was a curse. He had killed Tobias and his father. He—

A hand landed on Jimin's shoulder, jolting him out of his thoughts. Beside him stood Lieutenant Colonel Evan Nichel, who held his helmet under his arm and regarded Jimin with a look of terror that told him Umbra needed a leader.

Umbra needed him.

For his entire life, he had trained and studied for this moment, so he could do it. He had to do it. Snapping out of his trance, he swallowed his thick anxiety and forced himself to reassess the situation.

There were eight dead and one injured. If Jimin remembered clearly, they all died at once. Judging the angles of each wound, he assumed whoever had planned this was aiming solely for the sovereigns. Novas and Yoongi were collateral damage.

Even then, there wasn't an answer as to how. Each kingdom was allowed four guards and one banner bearer, and before tragedy struck, all of the guards were standing still in their positions. A few stray movements may have evaded Jimin's eye, but others would have noticed if that was the case. And there were no places to hide unless. . .

Jimin tilted his head towards the arches in the high ceiling shrouded by darkness. Someone could hide there. A demon could hide there.

"Your Highness, what should we do?" Nichel asked.