Chapter 108: A Letter For War

In Solkanaia,

Qazaethel and Dawn was having a royal meeting with the ministers, and some of them are facing a problem with another kingdom. The throne room was tense, the air thick with unspoken fears, and the ministers stood in a semicircle before the dais, their faces pale, their hands clasped tightly in front of them.

The morning light streamed through the tall windows, casting long shadows across the marble floor, but there was no warmth in it. The fire in the great hearth had burned low, and no one had thought to add more wood. No one had thought of anything except the letter that lay open on the table before the throne.

Qazaethel read the letter from the Western Kingdom, a letter for war. Her expression was unreadable, her eyes moving slowly across the words as though she was reading them for the hundredth time.

The parchment was thick and official, the wax seal already broken, and the message it contained was simple: the Western Reen Kingdom was declaring war on Solkanaia. There was no explanation, no demand, no opportunity for negotiation. Just a declaration, cold and final, and the weight of it pressed down on the room like a physical force.

Dawn’s face was grim when she read the copy of the letter. The Phoenix Empress stood beside Qazaethel’s throne, her own copy of the letter clutched in her hand, and her voice was sharp with confusion and anger.

"Why the Western Reen Kingdom is sending this to us? We haven’t done something to offend them, didn’t we?" Dawn asked, and the ministers remain silent. Some of them kept their head bow down. They did not answer. They did not look at her. They simply stood there, their silence a confession in itself.

Qazaethel’s gaze swept across the assembled ministers, her eyes cold and assessing, and she felt a familiar anger building in her chest. Someone in this room knew something. Someone in this room was responsible for this. And she was going to find out who.

"Arielle." Qazaethel’s voice echoed in the four corners of the throne room and some ministers trembled. The sound was calm, measured, but there was a blade hidden in it, and everyone in the room knew it.

Arielle sigh and face Qazaethel without flinching. The prime minister had been standing slightly apart from the other ministers, her expression thoughtful, her arms crossed over her chest.

She had known this moment was coming. She had been waiting for it. "I am here, your majesty." She said, her voice was calm and so was her eyes and posture. She did not look afraid. She did not look guilty. She looked, if anything, resigned.

"Kindly explain to me what’s going on? I’m sure you have something to say that I am not gonna be pleased with." Qazaethel said, her voice keep lowering down to that dangerous tone. The tone that had made generals tremble and ambassadors pale. The tone that preceded destruction.

Arielle met her gaze without wavering. "There was something in the documents, your majesty. I have reviewed them a thousand times. And I found out it has been tampered multiple times." She paused, letting the words sink in. The other ministers shifted uncomfortably, their eyes are darting to each other, and Arielle could see the fear in their faces. Good. Let them be afraid.

"I gave Minister Ven enough time to clean her mess but the mess keep growing." Arielle explained, then she presented some documents. She held them up for the sovereign to see, the pages were marked and annotated in her precise handwriting. "And she chose to hide them. She tampered some of the evidence in order to appease and divert our attention." Arielle added, and Dawn was shock to open some of the documents.

Dawn’s hands were trembling as she flipped through the pages, her eyes are widening with each new revelation. The documents detailed transactions, shipments, people—people who had been sold and killed.

"You chose to sell these people... Why?" Dawn’s voice cracked, her composure was slipping for the first time. She looked at Ven, at the minister who stood among the others, her face pale but defiant.

"Solkanaia zone was protecting them, you are the one who’s in charge of their safety within the borders of our zone, why?!" Dawn couldn’t comprehend it. She kept asking Ven, but Ven refuse to look directly on their eyes.

"Your majesty, please let me explain." Ven said, her voice was steady despite the tremor in her hands. She stepped forward, her head bowed, and her posture submissive. But there was something in her eyes—a flicker of calculation, of self-preservation—that made Arielle’s lip curl in disgust.

"Explain, Ven. Before I decide to rip your tongue out. Tell me names, and a good reason." Qazaethel’s voice sounded growling, and she was trying hard enough to stay compose. Her hands were clenched into fists at her sides, her knuckles are white, and the air around her seemed to grow hotter, the temperature in the room rising by several degrees.

"There is no explanation for this, your majesty. She had a connection with the Haltus clan. They’re known for owning the piece of what we believed to be the saint’s silk, and it was one of the most powerful silk in the world." Arielle said, and they all listened.

The Haltus clan. The name sent a ripple of unease through the room. The Haltus were not a noble house. They were not a political faction. They were a criminal organization, a network of smugglers and slavers and murderers who operated in the shadows of the kingdom. And the jarring part, they have connections with the Ahkyas.

"I figured that Minister Ven wanted this silk to strengthen her power and mana. Probably wanting to ascend to Godhood." Arielle added, and the words hung in the air like a death sentence.

Ven immediately kneel and shook her head, her composure finally cracking. "Your majesty, don’t listen to her! Arielle is an accomplice! She made me do this!" Ven said, but Arielle didn’t react much when Ven tried to drag her with her mess. The prime minister simply stood there, her expression remained unchanged, while her gaze was fixed on the sovereign.

Qazaethel sigh and looked at Arielle. "Who else is involved?" She asked, and Arielle looked up to her with sharp eyes. The question was simple, but the answer would determine the fate of everyone in the room.

"So far, it’s just minister Ven in the list." Arielle said, then she sigh and looked at the other minister. "No one wanted to speak about this, your majesty. No one wants to tell us the truth." Arielle said, and Qazaethel sigh.

The silence of the other ministers was damning. They knew something. They had to know something. But they were too afraid—too afraid of the consequences, too afraid of the powerful person behind all of this—to speak.

"I suspect you guys won’t do this without someone powerful inside this palace..." Qazaethel suspected, and Dawn felt stressed about everything. The Phoenix Empress had sunk into her throne, her hand pressed to her forehead, and she looked as though she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.

"I suspect that someone powerful is clearly someone in your family, your majesty. No one is powerful enough to help them do this without benefitting from it either..." And Arielle sauntered around the minister as she spoke with coldness, her footsteps echoing in the silent room.

"Because they knew that their beloved prime minister won’t get involved." She added, and they all trembled even more. The implication was clear. Someone in the royal family. Someone with power and influence. Someone who could protect the ministers from the consequences of their crimes.

Qazaethel observed them and sigh as she reaches her conclusion. The silence of the ministers, their fear, their refusal to speak—it was all the evidence she needed.

She did not know how deep the corruption went. But she knew that she could not let it stand. "General Liv." She called, and Liv walked in front and bow, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword, her expression sharp and attentive.

"Yes, your majesty?" Liv asked, her voice was steady.

"Put all ministers in prison. Don’t strip them of their title, power, and wealth yet. They’re staying there until we have more evidence." Qazaethel commanded, her voice cold and final. "And as for Ven... Treason... Fifty lightning lashes and behead her." Qazaethel delivered her verdict and Ven froze as she heard the sovereign’s decision. The color drained from her face, her mouth opened in a silent scream, and her entire body began to tremble.

The other ministers immediately prostrated and ask for her mercy. The entire throne room was filled with their cries, their voices rising in a cacophony of desperation.

"Your majesty, please!"

"We beg of you!"

"Have mercy!"

But Qazaethel and Dawn didn’t show much emotion about it. They simply watched as the guards moved forward, their hands closing around the arms of the ministers, pulling them to their feet and dragging them toward the doors.

"We have to find who did this... But Reen are declaring war." Arielle said, and she was apathetic as some ministers were drag away. Her voice was flat, her expression was unreadable, but there was a tension in her shoulders that betrayed her true feelings. She was angry. She was furious. But she was also practical. The war was coming, and they needed to be ready.

"YOUR MAJESTY! YOU NEED US! WAR IS COMING, YOU CAN’T DISCARD US LIKE THIS!" Minister of Taxes shout as he cried, his voice rising above the others. He was a large man, his face red with desperation, and he struggled against the guards who held him, trying to break free.

Qazaethel clenched her hand into a fist that her knuckles are turning white as she tried to contain her fury inside that it makes her throat tighten. The audacity. The sheer, unbelievable audacity.

"You dare... You dare say such things when it was all of you who had betrayed this kingdom and its people!" She retorted, her voice rised to a roar. The temperature in the room spiked, the torches flared, and the ministers cowered before her wrath. Dawn felt like this is unending. The corruption, the betrayals, the endless battles—it felt as though they were fighting a war on all fronts, and they were losing.

"Take them away, Liv. And squeeze every word and syllables out from their filthy mouth until we find out the truth." Dawn commanded, and Liv bowed at her. The general’s expression was grim, but there was a fire in her eyes that spoke of a determination that would not be broken.

"Yes, your majesty." She uttered and had the royal guards drag the ministers out of the throne room, including Ven. The doors closed behind them with a heavy thud, and the silence that followed was almost deafening.

Qazaethel sigh and massage the bridge of her nose. The headache was building behind her eyes, a dull ache that threatened to become a migraine, and she felt the exhaustion of the day pressing down on her. "The saint’s silk... That was a very rare piece." Dawn muttered and Qazaethel sigh. The Phoenix Empress had risen from her throne and was pacing, her footsteps quick and agitated.

"I guess everyone wanted it." Qazaethel said, her voice weary.

"But what if it’s not the saint’s silk? What if the Haltus are just trying to fool everyone?" Arielle said, and Qazaethel shook her head. The prime minister had moved to stand beside Dawn, her arms crossed, her brow furrowed in thought.

"Real or not, the Haltus killed a lot of people. And because we did nothing to stop them, the Reen kingdom is after us now." Qazaethel sighed, and she thought this day wouldn’t end with one problem. It never did. The problems just kept piling up, one after another, and she was beginning to wonder if there would ever be an end to them.

"Your majesty, Demon Lordess Xelvyn is here... With a chafferon..." The usher announced, and Arielle was a bit taken aback. The prime minister’s eyes widened, her composure slipping for just a moment.

"What? Are you expecting her to visit for the first time?" Arielle asked, her voice tinged with disbelief. The demon realm and Solkanaia had never been allies. They had never been enemies, either, but there had always been a distance between them, a wariness that kept them apart.

Qazaethel shook her head, her expression hardening. "Whatever it is, it sounded urgent." Qazaethel said, and her eyes remain sharp. The arrival of a demon lordess—especially one as powerful and unpredictable as Xelvyn—was never a good sign. It meant something was happening. Something that required their attention. Something that could not wait.