Chapter 402| Tomorrow Morning, They Would Face The Emperor Of The Iron Empire. And Neither Of Them Had The Slightest Clue How That Conversation Was Going To End.

?Roland stood up from the bench, staring at the steel door in front of him.

?This wasn’t the door he wanted to open.

?He stepped closer, knocking softly. The guard stationed outside slid open the small viewing hatch.

?"I want to speak with Officer Voss," Roland said.

?The guard hesitated for a second before leaving without a word. From the opposite bench, Rianor watched his brother in silence. He already knew what Roland was going to ask for.

?A few minutes later, Voss arrived. He stood at the threshold without stepping inside.

?The night outside the cell already felt colder than before.

?"I want to see my sister," Roland said. "Rumina Sudrath. She’s being treated in the Empire’s specialized hospital."

?Voss furrowed his brow. "I don’t have authorization for that."

?A voice echoed from the corridor behind him. "I can authorize it."

?Anastasia hadn’t gone far. Her black wolf-fur mantle remained draped flawlessly over her shoulder as she approached.

?"Just Roland and Rianor," she told Voss. "The rest will follow later, strictly escorted."

?Voss stared at her for a long moment, then sighed and gave a terse nod. "Make it quick," he said. "And I’ll be reporting this to the higher-ups."

?"File the report," Anastasia replied smoothly. "I’ll take full responsibility."

?In the adjacent holding cell, Riven heard the exchange through the thin steel wall.

?He stood up, his massive frame taking up almost half the cramped space. The Dwarf King sat not far away, his warhammer propped against the wall. Borch, Thorne, Naya, and Dom stood quietly in the opposite corner.

?The door swung open. Voss stepped in, briefly explaining that Roland and Rianor had been granted permission to visit Rumina.

?"I’m going too," Riven stated. It wasn’t a request.

?"You don’t have clearance," Voss shot back.

?Riven didn’t budge. "I’m her eldest brother," he growled softly. "You can chain me back up the second we’re done."

?One of the guards behind Voss nervously eyed Riven’s towering physique, then threw a pleading look at his superior, silently begging him not to escalate the situation.

?Voss stared him down, weighing the odds. "Your bindings come off temporarily. Two guards will shadow you. Absolutely no weapons."

?Riven nodded.

?The chains on his wrists were removed.

?The Dwarf King watched him for a second and gave a slow, knowing nod. No words were needed. Borch, Thorne, Naya, and Dom stayed rooted to their spots; none of them pushed to tag along.

?The capital streets were completely deserted as they made their move. Dim yellow steam-lamps flickered along the sidewalks, while a few distant factories continued to belch thin trails of smoke into the post-midnight sky.

?Anastasia took the lead, her mantle swaying softly with her measured strides.

?Roland followed close behind, with Rianor at his side. Riven brought up the rear, flanked by two guards who maintained a very respectful distance—clearly unsure of how close was deemed safe around a man of his sheer size.

?Rianor mapped every single structure they passed: the exhaust chimneys, the complex pipe networks, the graveyard-shift laborers visible through grime-caked factory windows.

?He filed the information away in his mind without breathing a word. It was an ingrained tactical habit he couldn’t switch off, even at an hour like this.

?The walk was dead silent. Anastasia hadn’t offered any details about their destination beyond the phrase "specialized hospital."

?A brisk walk later, they arrived at a low-profile building devoid of any signage. It sat tucked behind an unassuming gray stone wall, almost invisible from the main street.

?No one would have ever guessed a place like this was housing their little sister, right in the beating heart of enemy territory.

?Inside, the corridors were immaculate and eerily quiet—a stark contrast to the grimy holding cells they had just left behind. Dim steam-lamps cast a warm glow from the ceiling.

?They halted in front of a plain wooden door, completely indistinguishable from any other door in the hall.

?"She’s still recovering," Anastasia said, glancing back at Roland. "Don’t exhaust her."

?Roland nodded. For a split second, he almost uttered a ’thank you’, but ultimately swallowed the words.

?Anastasia pushed the door open. Selene, Yara, and Lieur had already been relocated to the adjacent ward, ensuring absolute privacy for this reunion.

?Roland and Rianor stepped inside.

?Riven stopped at the threshold, hanging back. He just stood there, silently yielding the floor to his two younger brothers first.

?The two escorts remained out in the hall. Anastasia leaned against the wall nearby, waiting with perfect, unbothered patience.

?Rumina was sitting up in bed, her back propped against a stack of pillows. Her raven hair was tied in a loose bun, an open book resting on her lap.

?She glanced up at the sound of the door. Her eyes shot wide open, the book nearly slipping right off her lap.

?"Took you long enough," she grumbled, feigning annoyance. "I was starting to think you idiots forgot I was still breathing in here, all alone, surrounded by people who don’t even know how to brew a decent cup of tea."

?Roland let out a soft chuckle, stepping up to the bedside. "Sorry. We got a little tied up."

?"Tied up for days?" Rumina narrowed her eyes, instantly zeroing in on the bandaged wound on Roland’s shoulder. "And why do you look like somebody dragged you through a collapsed mineshaft?"

?Rianor took a seat on the wooden chair beside her bed, completely sidestepping the interrogation. "How are your injuries?"

?"Getting there," Rumina replied, before quickly pivoting. "But the food here is downright criminal. This mattress feels like a slab of concrete, and the nurses always barge in right at the crack of dawn when I’ve barely closed my eyes. I’m half a day away from drafting a formal complaint."

?"Sounds like a standard patient grievance log," Rianor deadpanned.

?"You’ve never been a patient in your life," Rumina scoffed. "If it were you stuck in this bed, you would have overhauled their entire medical administration system by lunchtime."

?"Probably," Rianor conceded without a hint of irony.

?Roland offered a faint smile at their usual bickering, taking a seat at the foot of the bed.

?Nobody breathed a word about the Dwarves, the war, the Emperor, or the geopolitical nightmare unfolding right outside these walls.

?After a few minutes, Riven finally ran out of patience. He stepped inside, moving with a jarring quietness for a man whose sheer bulk seemed to shrink the entire room.

?He reached into the pocket of his combat fatigues and pulled out a single apple. Without uttering a single syllable, he placed it gently on the nightstand beside her.

?Rumina stared at the fruit for a long, quiet moment.

?She picked it up, polished it softly against the edge of her blanket, and took a bite.

?Her eyes glistened, just a fraction.

?Roland instantly looked out the window. Rianor suddenly found something deeply fascinating to inspect on the floorboards. Riven stared intensely at the blank wall across the room.

?None of them were about to humiliate their little sister by catching her crying.

?They lingered for a bit longer, trading trivial stories—complaining about the cranky head nurse, discussing the plot of Rumina’s book, talking about absolutely anything other than the war.

?Eventually, Roland checked the time and announced they needed to head back.

?Rumina hesitated for a split second. She didn’t pry about their detention status, the holding cells, or the brutal reality of their situation. She just told them not to disappear on her again.

?"Just wrap up whatever it is you’re doing," Rumina ordered, her voice slipping back into its usual bossy tone, though her eyes were still slightly red. "And don’t do anything stupid while you’re at it."

?"I promise," Roland smiled.

?They filed out of the room, one by one.

?The heavy wooden door clicked shut.

?Rumina sat alone, staring at the closed door, the half-eaten apple still clutched in her hand. She took another bite, chewing methodically.

?She lowered her gaze, shifting slightly as she felt the pull of the thick bandages wrapping her back. The phantom sting of the whip hadn’t entirely faded, and deep down, she knew it probably never would.

?For the very first time since Grendel’s torture, she broke down.

?It wasn’t from the pain. It wasn’t from the fear.

?It was because her brothers had actually come. They had marched right into the heart of the enemy stronghold just to get five minutes to see her alive—and the sheer weight of how much she had missed them finally crushed her all at once.

?Out in the corridor, Anastasia was waiting as the three brothers stepped out.

?She didn’t say a word. She merely observed their expressions for a fleeting second before turning on her heel toward the exit.

?Right at the threshold, she paused.

?"Tomorrow morning, the Emperor will grant you an audience," she said, not bothering to look back.

?Roland looked up, genuinely caught off guard by the rapid development. "What made him change his mind?"

?"I convinced him," Anastasia replied smoothly. "If he refused, it paints him as a ruler cowering from his own prisoners of war. He despises looking weak."

?With that, she stepped out into the night, vanishing into the shadows before Roland could even formulate a reply.

?Riven watched her leave, then glanced down at Roland. "She’s odd," he grumbled.

?"But useful," Roland countered.

?The trek back felt infinitely shorter, despite navigating the exact same industrial labyrinth. They arrived back at the outer gate’s guardpost just hours before dawn.

?Voss processed their return with zero small talk. He just gave a curt nod, looking like a man desperate to wipe the entire unauthorized excursion from his memory.

?Riven was escorted back to his designated holding cell. The guards shackled his wrists with a noticeable degree of caution and politeness. He didn’t put up an ounce of resistance, accepting the chains exactly as promised.

?Roland and Rianor were ushered back into their steel-box cell. Borch, Thorne, Naya, Dom, and the Dwarf King were already awake and waiting. Not a single person asked where they had been; the unspoken understanding hung clearly in the air.

?The unheated holding cell felt distinctly colder than the hospital ward. Roland sank onto the wooden bench, leaning against the steel wall. Rianor took his seat across from him.

?Tomorrow morning, they would face the Emperor of the Iron Empire. And neither of them had the slightest clue how that conversation was going to end.

?Roland stared up at the faintly flickering steam-lamp bolted to the ceiling.

?His tactical mind was already shifting back to the grand scale of the war, even as the mental image of his little sister—smiling while chewing on that apple—lingered warmly in the back of his thoughts.

?Rianor sat quietly, giving his brother the space to formulate a plan without interruption—just as he had always done since they were kids.

?Emperor Regulus had agreed to see them. But swaying a tyrant required more than just words. It required leverage. Something the Iron Empire had never needed in order to win their wars—but ironically, the one thing they weren’t fully prepared to face.

?The truth.