Erythro: The Prophecy Unveiled

Ryan, intently listening to his fellow regent's report, smirked in response. His right hand propped under his chin; he glanced around at the serious expressions on the empire king's faces. However, when his gaze fell upon the King of Skotos, his eyes narrowed. Something about him felt off, a sensation his detective's instincts couldn't quite place. But he knew his gut never lied. This king was dangerous, hiding something behind his facade.

Ryan took advantage of the situation to observe the mysterious king. He remembered the circumstances surrounding the king's appointment. The former King of Skotos had passed away from illness, leaving no successor. The king had an adopted child who was a young adult at the time. King Lucian of Skotos, the young man, assumed the throne with the unanimous support of his people. However, the king had never ventured into other empires, earning him the nickname "shadow king."

The Skotos empire had also become shrouded in secrecy, with little news emerging until now. The King of Skotos possessed a youthful and kind demeanor, but his presence demanded respect. Unlike the King of Carthage, whose ruthlessness was palpable, the King of Skotos was a different character.

As if sensing his scrutiny, King Lucian met his gaze. The king's expression was devoid of emotion, yet his eyes suggested he was observing him intently, as if trying to peer into his soul. Ryan, unable to sustain this intense scrutiny, looked away. Cedric's voice, thanking Head Regent Hugo for the report, pulled Ryan from his reverie.

Cedric announced, "Next, let's hear from Head Regent Timothy." A man in a faded suit rose to his feet. He was short and stocky, with brown hair and a mustache. Timothy walked to the center and commenced his report. "Good day to the kings of the empires, Erudite Cedric, high regents, and everyone here," he greeted. "I am Head Regent Timothy of Division 8. Our division was assigned to investigate an attack that took place in one of the towns of Winteris. Please allow me to present the findings of our investigation."

Head Regent Timothy stood tall, his hands firmly gripping a parchment. He cleared his throat and began, "At the sixth hour of the day, a horrific incident unfolded in Clove Town, a small settlement nestled within the Winteris region. The town, home to approximately fifty dwellings including the magistrate's office, was situated on the outskirts of Winteris, bordering a dense forest. The primary source of income for the town's residents was the production and sale of charcoal."

"In the early hours of that fateful day, a pack of wolves emerged from the forest and descended upon the unsuspecting town, wreaking havoc. The town guards were quickly overwhelmed and killed, their numbers no match for the ferocious pack. The wolves proceeded to terrorize the town, ruthlessly slaughtering men, women, and children alike. Only the magistrate managed to survive, seeking refuge in the basement of his office until the wolves retreated. Upon emerging from his hiding place, he witnessed the devastating aftermath – a town reduced to ruins, bodies scattered everywhere, the ground soaked in blood, and most houses ransacked. The magistrate described the wolves as enormous, jet-black creatures with legs longer than those of ordinary wolves. Their eyes, he recalled, were a chilling blood-red."

Timothy addressed the crowd and the four kings, then turned to the High Regents. "May I request your permission," he said, bowing, "to summon the magistrate of Clove Town for questioning." Erudite Cedric Vale nodded in agreement. As if on cue, the doors of the Grand Court swung open, revealing a thin man in his fifties. The man stood tall and walked calmly to the raised platform. He bowed to everyone present and then looked at Regent Timothy.

Cedric instructed, "Please introduced yourself." The man stood straight and with a loud voice started, "Good day gentlemen here in the Grand Court, to Erudite Cedric Vale, to the high regents, to the kings of the empire, and to all regents present here, good day to you all. It is an honor to stand before you today and I promise that I will do my best to help with your investigations," he started. "I am Thaddeus Blackwell, the magistrate of Clove Town which was attacked by black wolves".

King Alaric's voice, thick with urgency and disbelief, reverberated through the chamber. "Is it true? Is everyone in the town dead?" His eyes searched the magistrate's face for any glimmer of hope. But the magistrate's solemn nod only confirmed the grim reality. Alaric's heart pounded as he asked again, desperation creeping into his tone, "Are there no survivors at all?" He needed to hear it one more time, almost unable to accept the magnitude of the tragedy.

Regent Timothy stepped forward, his voice burdened by the weight of the news. "Your Majesty, it is with a heavy heart that I confirm—there are no survivors. Every soul within the town walls has perished in this horrific attack." The King's brow furrowed in distress, his thoughts racing to the grim details. "Have all the bodies been accounted for?" King Alexander suddenly asked, his voice quieter now, as if afraid of the answer. "Given the brutality of the black wolf attack, I fear many may have been torn apart or rendered unrecognizable." Regent Timothy, though solemn, sought to reassure him. "The Ordinance Medical team has been relentless in their efforts, Your Majesty. They have thoroughly examined the scene, and their findings leave no doubt—every victim has been accounted for."

"So, you're telling me that a frail, thin man like yourself is the sole survivor, when not a single man, woman, child, or adult managed to escape death?" the King of Carthage questioned, raising an eyebrow. His sharp gaze sent a shiver down the magistrate's spine. Magistrate Thaddeus, visibly shaken, stammered, "Your Majesty, do you suspect me? I swear, I knew nothing of what happened. I... I only survived because I was hiding in the underground basement of my office," he blurted out, his voice trembling with fear. 

A ripple of disbelief and outrage swept through the grand court as King Alexander's sardonic laughter filled the air. "You call yourself a magistrate? You are the most inept, cowardly, and feeble individual in this entire town. You do not deserve the title you hold." The magistrate, his face flushed with shame, could only lower his head in abject humiliation. King Alexander's gaze, sharp and penetrating, bore into the trembling magistrate. His eyes were filled with a mixture of contempt and disappointment. King Ragnar, witnessing this spectacle, shook his head in disgust. The once-respected magistrate was now exposed as a fraud, his incompetence and cowardice laid bare for all to see.

King Ragnar raised an eyebrow and asked, "Why does your office have an underground basement? Is it the only one with such a feature?"

King Caspian chimed in, adding, "He's right. Do none of the other buildings have underground basements?"

"The basement has been there since the town was first developed, long before I ever took this position, Your Majesties," the magistrate responded, his voice soft yet steady. "I believe it was constructed for emergency purposes, a safeguard perhaps for officials like myself. As for the homes of the townspeople—no, they didn't have basements." He paused for a moment, sensing the weight of the scrutiny on him. His hands clenched at his sides, but he remained composed.

"Several regents have already visited the site to conduct their investigations," he continued, his gaze shifting between the two kings. "If you wish, you can seek their confirmation on this matter. They will tell you the same—that the basement was part of the original design and not something I had any hand in creating." His tone was careful, almost pleading, as if trying to reassure them of his innocence while navigating the unspoken suspicion hanging in the air.

"Your Majesties," Regent Timothy began, his voice filled with somber conviction, "He is speaking the truth. Clove Town is a town of humble means. The people's homes are modest, often showing signs of wear and tear. Such structures offer little protection against the kind of attack this town has endured. They have nowhere to hide." King Ragnar, his expression darkening, interjected, "This is a stark reminder of the consequences of corruption. When a town is neglected and its people impoverished, it becomes a vulnerable target."

"Can you describe the magistrate office? When was it built? Who built it?" Erudite Cedric asks, then whispered something to the high regent beside him who stand up and left the court. The magistrate answered, "The office was made of stone, cement, and glass. When it comes with the date of and who built it, I didn't know, Sir." 

"What about your family?" Cedric asked, his voice gentle but probing. Thaddeus, haunted by the memory of recent events, lowered his head. His broad shoulders began to tremble as if the weight of his grief spoke for him. "They're all gone, Sir," he finally whispered, his voice barely audible. Cedric's sharp eyes softened with understanding, yet he pressed on. "Your house doesn't have a basement then?" he inquired, his tone now more analytical. Thaddeus simply nodded in response, his gaze distant, lost in the painful memories. "I see," Cedric remarked quietly, acknowledging the man's unspoken anguish.

"The house is just like the others, old and falling apart. I never imagined something like this would ever happen to us," Thaddeus added after a moment of silence. The magistrate's voice was strained, as if he was still grappling with the shock. One of the high regents leaned forward, his expression solemn. "Did you see your family before the tragedy struck?" he asked, searching for more details. "No, Sir," Thaddeus replied, his voice hoarse. His mind wandered to the final moments he spent with them, now unreachable through the haze of loss.

King Caspian, who had remained silent, finally spoke. "Tell us about your family," he urged, his tone carrying the weight of both authority and compassion. Thaddeus took a breath, gathering himself before responding. "I had a wife... and two children. My daughter was six, and my son, just five," he said, the words coming out slowly, as if each one were a stab to the heart.