Chapter 2 The Old Book

“The Rite Women,” High Priest Overn said.

The chamber fell into a heavy, stifling silence. The only sound was the crackling of the dying red runes on the floor.

Darius stared at the priest, his eyes narrowing into cold slits. The blood dripping from his nose had dried on his skin, but the heat in his chest rose again, not from the beast, but from sudden deep anger.

“The Rite was abandoned many generations ago,” Darius said, his voice dropping into a dangerous whisper.

Overn did not flinch, though he held his holy staff a little tighter.

“Only in public, Your Majesty.”

“What does that mean?” Darius demanded, stepping down from the platform. His heavy boots clicked sharply on the stone.

“Speak clearly, Priest.”

“It means the records were sealed, not destroyed,” Overn explained, his old voice steady but careful.

“The history books were changed to keep the public calm. But the truth is still kept in the deepest archives of the sanctum.”

“A truth you kept from me,” Darius growled.

“A truth we kept to protect you,” Queen Isolde interrupted. Her voice cut through the tension like a sharp blade.

“Listen to him, Darius. We do not have time for pride.”

Darius ignored his mother and looked straight at the priest.

“Explain this system, Overn. What is this ‘Rite’?”

Overn took a slow breath, looking down at the broken, glowing runes under their feet.

“Certain female bloodlines have a special stabilizing energy. In ancient times, when the beast in your family became too violent, earlier emperors used these women. They were taken from noble houses and conquered tribes, chosen because of the nature of their souls.”

“And what do they do?” Darius asked, his jaw tightening. “Do they chant? Do they cast spells?”

“No,” Overn said. “Just being near you is enough to suppress the beast. Their spiritual energy calms it. They take in the unstable darkness leaking from your body. They hold the monster back so you do not have to.”

Darius stepped closer, the air around him growing warmer again.

“And what price do these women pay for this ‘energy’?”

Overn paused. He looked away, unable to meet the Emperor’s eyes.

“Answer me,” Darius ordered.

“The Rite takes their life force,” Overn said quietly.

“Life force,” Darius repeated, a bitter realization forming in his chest. “You mean it drains them.”

“…Yes,” Overn admitted in a low voice. “The beast’s darkness is poisonous. When they take it in, it slowly destroys them. Their bodies weaken. Their minds break. They lose their souls little by little until nothing remains.”

Darius’s face twisted in disgust. Strong emotion rose in him, making the dark veins on his neck pulse with light.

“You would drain innocent women just to keep a monster chained?” Darius roared. His voice echoed off the high stone walls. “You want me to stand on a throne built on walking corpses?”

Isolde stepped between him and the priest, her face firm and her eyes burning with rare emotion.

“I would do anything to save my son!”

“I never asked for this!” Darius shouted back, his chest rising and falling hard. “I never asked for this curse! I never asked to have a demon inside my blood!”

“And yet you were born with it,” Isolde said coldly. Her voice turned sharp and unmovable. “You are the Emperor, Darius. Your life is not your own. It belongs to the empire. If a few noble girls must die so millions can live, then that is the price of survival.”

Darius let out a hollow, bitter laugh. He felt trapped, not by walls, but by the duty forced on him since birth.

“Enough of this arguing,” Commander Lucien said, stepping forward. His armor clanked loudly, breaking the heavy tension in the room. He looked at Darius with a serious face.

“We have more urgent problems, sire. The eastern coalition has crossed the border.”

Darius froze. His anger immediately shifted into military focus.

“How long?”

“Less than three weeks before they reach the frontier cities,” Lucien reported, his voice sharp and tight. “They are moving faster than expected. This is not a raid, it is an invasion. If you lose control on the battlefield, Darius, the front line will fall in a single day.”

Darius closed his eyes and took a deep, rough breath. The weight of the empire pressed down on him like a heavy stone.

“Prepare the army,” Darius ordered, opening his eyes. “We march to the frontier.”

“You cannot go like this,” Overn warned, stepping forward again. “The beast is too close to the surface. War will fully release it.”

“Then what do you suggest, Priest?” Darius snapped. “I will not use those women.”

Overn reached into his robe and pulled out a small velvet pouch. From it, he took out a dark, heavy object. An old black crystal wrapped in worn silver chains—the Seal Stone. It seemed to swallow the light around it, cold and lifeless.

“This will not heal the beast,” Overn said, holding it out.

Darius looked at the dark relic, feeling the old magic inside it. “Then what is the point?”

“It will suppress it for a short time,” Overn explained. “It is an artifact from the First King. It will pull some of the beast’s heat into itself and protect your mind.”

Lucien stepped closer, looking at the black crystal carefully. “Long enough for the campaign?”

Overn looked up, his old face full of worry. “If the gods are kind. But it will break eventually, just like your seals, Your Majesty. It is only a temporary fix.”

Darius did not hesitate. He grabbed the Seal Stone from Overn’s hand.

The moment his fingers touched the cold crystal, a strong shiver ran through his arm. In his mind, the Beast gave a low, angry hiss. The burning heat in his veins cooled at once, letting him breathe easier. The pressure in his head faded into a dull pain.

It was not a cure. The monster was still there, waiting in the dark. But its chains were tighter again.

Darius clenched the crystal and looked at his mother and the priest.

“The Rite Women are already being gathered, sire,” Overn said softly.

“The first group will reach the lower gates by nightfall.”

Darius turned his back on them. His long black cloak moved across the stone floor as he walked away. A heavy feeling of dread sat in his chest, knowing the empire would not stop moving forward.

“Then do your worst,” Darius growled over his shoulder.

He did not wait for a reply. He walked away, his footsteps echoing down the dark corridor as he left the chamber.

High Priest Overn watched him disappear into the shadows. He let out a shaky sigh, his shoulders dropping as the tension finally left the room.

“Will the stone hold him?” Lucien asked quietly, his hand still on his sword.

Overn did not answer at first. He walked slowly to the tall narrow window, looking out over the wide valley and the road leading to the palace gates. Far away, a line of carriages moved through the dust.

“I only pray we find her before it is too late,” Overn whispered.

“Her?” Lucien frowned. “What do you mean? We are bringing many women.”

Overn kept looking outside.

“The number does not matter, Commander,” he said softly. “Most of them will fade within weeks. But the old book speak of one special soul. A perfect match.”

He placed his hand on the cold stone window frame.

“The one the beast has been waiting for.”