As the murmurs of the nobles died down, Ethan leaned forward, resting his chin on his fist.
'Now that we've settled that,' he said, his voice carrying weight, 'it's time to establish order.'
His golden gaze swept across the great families. 'You will each report to me with detailed accounts of your territories—military forces, economic strength, and ongoing conflicts. This is no longer a divided continent. If you rule under me, you will do so efficiently. Fail, and you will be replaced.'
His words sent a ripple through the room. Some clenched their fists in silent defiance, but no one dared to speak out.
A deafening explosion shook the palace, sending a tremor through the ground. The walls groaned, dust and debris trickling from the ceiling. Nobles stumbled in shock, panic flashing in their eyes. The thick wooden doors at the far end of the hall suddenly creaked open.
A bloodied guard staggered in, his armor scorched and torn. He barely managed a step before collapsing, his body motionless.
Then, a figure strode into the hall.
Draped in obsidian black robes, a man with piercing red eyes and a long, curved blade at his side walked forward with measured steps. His presence alone shifted the air, making even seasoned warriors tense instinctively.
Madeleine's gaze sharpened. "A Royal Executioner."
The man's eyes landed on Ethan, and he smirked. "Ethan Smith Junior. So the rumors were true."
Ethan sighed, standing from his throne-like seat. 'You couldn't even wait until the meeting was over? What a pain.'
The Executioner unsheathed his blade, its surface humming with dark energy. "Your existence is a threat to the Blade Clan's plans. Surrender, and your death will be painless."
Ethan chuckled darkly. 'Oh? And if I refuse?'
The Executioner reached into his robes, pulling out a small, jagged crystal—a Nullstone Relic.
"Then I'll simply level the playing field."
He crushed the relic in his palm. A pulse of dark energy spread outward, like an invisible shockwave. Instantly, the room felt… different.
Gasps rang out. Nobles and warriors alike staggered, clutching at their chests. Clara, Andriel, even Madeleine—all felt their powers forcibly sealed away. The very essence of mana and aura in the hall had been suppressed.
Ethan, however, remained completely unaffected.
The Executioner's grin widened. "This relic nullifies all energy manipulation within a hundred-meter radius… except for the two of us." His eyes gleamed with bloodlust. "Now, let's see how strong you truly are, 'King.'"
Ethan exhaled slowly, stepping forward. 'You're a fool.'
The Executioner's instincts screamed at him. He swung his blade in a reflexive arc, expecting a counterattack. But his blade met nothing but air.
A fist buried itself into his ribs. The Executioner's eyes bulged as he was sent skidding back, his body crashing into the floor with a sickening thud. Blood dribbled from his lips.
He barely had time to process what happened before Ethan appeared in front of him again.
A single, lazy kick caved in his knee.
The Executioner screamed, collapsing to the ground. His sword clattered from his grasp. His once-confident gaze now held something new—fear.
Ethan stared down at him, his golden eyes devoid of emotion. 'You sealed the powers of everyone in this room except me. But that only made things worse for you.'
The Executioner trembled, his fingers clawing at the floor. "W-Wait—!"
His hand pierced through the Executioner's chest, gripping his heart.
The man gasped, his body convulsing. His red eyes flickered in disbelief.
Ethan leaned in slightly. 'Your first mistake was underestimating me. I'm an ascended being, unlike you.'
He clenched his fist.
With a sickening squelch, the Executioner's heart ruptured in his grasp. The man's body went limp instantly, his head slumping forward.
Ethan pulled his hand free, letting the corpse crumple to the floor. He shook off the blood, wiping his fingers clean with a flick of his wrist.
Once defiant and hesitant, the nobles stared at Ethan with a new understanding. No, a new terror.
He had just executed one of the strongest assassins of the Blade Clan without breaking a sweat. Without even destroying a single object in the room.
Ethan turned, stepping back toward his throne, his expression unreadable. He settled into his seat, resting his chin on his fist once more.
'Now,' he said, his voice calm, as if nothing had happened. 'Where were we?'
The Executioner's corpse had barely grown cold before Ethan turned back to the gathered nobles. 'Where were we?'
The tension in the room was thick. Some still stared at the lifeless body on the floor, others at Ethan's bloodstained hand. But they all understood something fundamental had changed—there was no room for hesitation anymore.
One of the nobles, an older man with graying hair, cleared his throat. "We were discussing preparations for war, Your Majesty."
Ethan gave a slow nod. 'Then let's begin.'
Ethan leaned back in his seat, golden eyes sharp. 'Speak. What's the current state of our forces?'
A general from one of the great families stepped forward. "As of now, our army is strong but scattered. We have elite warriors stationed in different cities, but we lack proper coordination. Additionally, enemy forces have begun to make strategic advances on multiple fronts."
Another noble, a sharp-eyed woman, added, "Veryan City is in complete chaos. Reports say civilians are trapped and hunted. If we don't act now, we'll lose them."
Ethan's fingers tapped against the armrest of his chair. 'Any estimate on casualties?'
A grim silence. Then, Lord Verna, who had been quiet, spoke, his voice solemn. 'At least sixty percent of the population has been wiped out.'
Murmurs filled the room. Faces darkened.
Madeleine stepped forward. "If we send in an army now, we risk being caught in a trap. The enemy knows we'll come for the survivors."
Ethan nodded. 'A full force deployment would be reckless.' His eyes glowed. 'But we don't need an army. We need overwhelming force in a precise strike.'
He stood up, his aura suffocating the room.
The temperature in the hall dropped. A low, deep rumble echoed as the massive red serpent, Angitia, slithered forward from the shadows, her enormous form causing the floor to tremble. She was now the size of a baby dragon, her crimson scales glistening like molten rubies.
Next to her, a new presence made itself known.
A massive shape loomed outside, visible through the great windows of the hall. A being larger than two football fields, its sheer size dwarfed the building.
The nobles gawked. Even the media personnel who had been quietly recording everything gasped. The camera drones zoomed in, capturing the impossible sight.
Ethan's voice was absolute. 'Angitia. Galeno. You will lead the rescue operation in Veryan City. Reginald and Jerry will accompany you. Prioritize the civilians. Destroy any enemy in your path.'
Angitia's black eyes gleamed as she coiled around herself, her deep voice a whisper in the minds of all present. 'As you command, master.'
Galeno, slow and eternal, let out a deep, rumbling exhale. 'We shall protect them.'
Jerry grinned, cracking his knuckles. "Finally, some action."
Reginald simply nodded. "It will be done."
Ethan turned to the nobles. 'This will be a message to our enemies. That we are not passive. That we will strike back.'
Unknown to Ethan, the entire conversation was being broadcast live.
The media personnel had been present under the guise of covering the meeting of the leaders of Anbord, but the moment the Executioner arrived, their lenses had captured everything—his effortless victory, the planning of war, the introduction of giant mythical beasts.
Screens across the world flashed with the images. The once-mythical Smith Clan was no longer a secret. The world now knew of Ethan Smith Junior, of his terrifying power, and of the looming war.
News stations ran the footage non-stop.
"BREAKING NEWS: THE SMITH CLAN RETURNS—A NEW WARLORD EMERGES."
"WHO IS ETHAN SMITH? THE MYSTERIOUS RULER DECLARES WAR!"
"MYTHICAL BEASTS IN REALITY? NEVER-BEFORE-SEEN CREATURES CONFIRMED!"
Governments scrambled. Leaders held emergency meetings. The revelation of the Smith Clan's power had shaken the balance of the world.
He merely smirked, watching the news feed on a hovering screen.
'Good,' he murmured. 'Let them know what's coming.'
As the war council continued, Ethan outlined the next steps.
'Fortify key cities, set up surveillance, and prepare for counter-attacks.
Reach out to neutral factions—some would choose to join, others needed convincing.
Send spies into enemy territories to uncover their next moves.'
Each order was received with determination. The nobles and commanders, once hesitant, now saw the path forward.
As the meeting drew to a close, Ethan's voice rang through the chamber.
'This war is inevitable. But we will not fight defensively. We will crush them before they even have the chance to breathe.'
A silent agreement passed through the room.
And so, as the world reeled from the revelation of the Smith Clan, Ethan and his forces prepared to make their next move.
The war had truly begun.