The Crown's Fire - Chapter 301

Chapter 301: Always at Your Disposal
Devon grunted in irritation, pacing the dark chamber. Destroying Merlot’s soul and spirit had given him complete control over the body, but the cost had been high, his memories were fragmented, many lost entirely. What remained were only the recent fragments, memories tied to Merlot’s activities and Marla’s manipulation when she awakened Devon’s blood thread within Merlot’s body.

He paused, a smirk forming on his lips. Even with his limited recollection, he could recognize Merlot’s brilliance. The man had been cunning, meticulous to the point of concealing his true identity even from Devon. Only now did Devon fully grasp that the Merlot he had been colliding with from Ebodia was, in fact, Ezekiel’s second cousin, Greg Elrod.

Like Devon, Greg had harbored an insatiable thirst for power. His ambition had been ignited years ago when he watched Ezekiel crowned Crown Prince of Ebodia. Greg had craved that position for himself, burning with jealousy and hatred ever since.

“Fools like him are easy to manipulate,” Devon muttered under his breath. “But his drive for power… that might prove useful yet.”

His smirk widened as he began plotting his next moves, determined to turn every piece of the shattered puzzle to his advantage.

His eyes darted to where Floria had fled, and he grunted, “That woman will serve her purpose soon enough.” He then went to Merlot’s hidden chamber and created a portal. One thing he loved about his new body was not just how fit it was physically, but how strong his inner energy had become.

Devon stepped through the portal and into the heart of his hidden domain. The air was thick with the scent of dark magic, and the ground seemed to pulse with a malevolent energy. His three mighty dragons stood guard, their scales gleaming with the power of black magic as they looked at him with glowing eyes.

“Milord!” one of his followers hurried towards him, bowing in reverence. “We’ve collected Marla’s shattered soul, but-”

Devon’s expression darkened instantly. His plan to resurrect Marla had been set into motion. He had intended to use the same method that had worked with Lumina… The soul inside Floria’s body’s true name. Transferring Marla’s soul into a new body was the next step. Floria’s or Lumina’s body would serve him well, both beautiful and able to satisfy his twisted desires.

Marla… she had proven herself to be valuable. A woman like her was worth keeping by his side. Still, no woman could compare to his ultimate desire, his Princess Katelina.

The thought of Katelina stirred a deep, consuming anger within him. His hand clenched into a fist. “For years, I controlled myself, forcing myself to wait. But no more! You will be mine, Katelina. You are mine!” His voice was low, dripping with dark fury. “And your pregnancy, your precious baby, it means nothing. You’ll end up with me, one way or another. And I will remove that little creature inside of you and place another one with mine!”

The twisted obsession in his mind was all-consuming. He would stop at nothing to claim Katelina and bend her to his will.

Devon’s face twisted in frustration, but the glimmer of his dark determination remained unshaken. He loomed over his follower who had dared to deliver bad news, the man’s nervousness only fueling his ire.

“Milord, I regret to inform you that the remaining shards of Marla’s shattered soul are beyond repair,” the follower stammered, clearly dreading the wrath that would follow his words.

Devon’s eyes narrowed, his expression hardening as his rage simmered beneath the surface. He gritted his teeth, the very thought of Marla’s soul failing him gnawing at his control. But he quickly masked his fury with cold calculation. His obsession with power never allowed him to lose focus for long.

“Get me ten virgin women,” he barked, his voice sharp and commanding. “Their souls will serve as the sacrifice needed to mend Marla’s broken soul. I want them ready by nightfall, and I will perform the ritual myself. It will be done.” His mind worked quickly, already plotting the steps needed to fuel his ultimate goal.

Turning to the rest of his followers, his voice dropped to a menacing whisper. “Prepare everything. In two days, we begin the attack. Zion will fall. The world will know that Devon has returned, stronger and more vengeful than ever before.”

The weight of his words hung heavily in the air, as his followers scrambled to carry out his orders. The pieces were in place. Nothing could stand in his way. His plans were already set in motion, and nothing would stop him from claiming the power he craved and the destruction he was about to unleash on Zion.

All his followers dropped to their knees, hailing their dark lord with reverent devotion. Their chants echoed in the cavernous hall, a testament to the iron grip Devon held over them. Amid their cries, a swirling portal materialized, pulsating with a dark aura. From within stepped a cloaked figure, her presence commanding attention even amidst the fervent display of loyalty.

The woman, draped in a sleek black cloak that flowed like liquid shadow, approached Devon with deliberate steps. She stopped a few paces before him and bowed deeply, her movements precise and respectful.

“Milord,” she began, her voice steady but laced with urgency, “you can no longer trust Floria.”

Devon’s eyes narrowed, his expression darkening like a storm gathering on the horizon. His once-contained anger now began to ripple beneath his surface. “Speak,” he commanded, his tone low and menacing.

The woman straightened slightly but kept her head bowed. “Floria has been compromised. She remains under your orders outwardly, but her loyalties have shifted. She is reporting your movements to the King and Queen of Zion. Every step you take, she feeds back to them. Her true allegiance lies elsewhere now.”

Devon clenched his fists, his claws digging into his palms. The thought of betrayal boiled his blood. Floria… no, Lumina was supposed to be his pawn, his tool to carry out his schemes without question. And yet, she dared to defy him.

“Floria…” he hissed, his voice dripping with venom. “That spineless wretch thinks she can outwit me? She has forgotten her place,” he said, his voice like ice. “But she will remember. I will see to it personally.”

He turned back to the woman. “You have done well. Ensure the others stay in line. As for Floria… her usefulness has come to an end.”

The cloaked figure bowed again, retreating back into the shadows. Devon, now more resolute than ever, began to formulate his next move. Floria’s betrayal would not only cost her dearly, it would serve as an example to anyone else foolish enough to challenge his dominion.

*****

Meanwhile, Floria wasted no time as she hurried toward the monarch’s palace, her thoughts racing with urgency. She had to report to the King and Queen about Devon and his control over the red and blue dragons. Every moment mattered, and her resolve was unshakable.

But just as she was about to set foot on the palace grounds, a voice stopped her in her tracks.

“You seem to be in a hurry, Lady Floria,” Devon’s chilling tone sliced through the air.

Floria froze, her breath catching. She turned slowly, forcing her features into a mask of calm even as dread coursed through her. Devon stood a short distance away, his piercing gaze locked onto her, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

“Milord,” Floria said, bowing her head slightly, her voice steady despite the tension gripping her. “Why are you here?”

Devon stepped closer, his smirk widening as if he relished her discomfort. “Oh, I happened to be in the area and saw my trusted servant moving with such purpose. It piqued my curiosity.” His eyes narrowed. “Come with me. There’s something I still need to discuss with you.”

Floria’s mind raced, but her expression remained calm. “Of course, Milord,” she replied smoothly. “I am always at your disposal.”

Devon’s smirk deepened as he gestured toward a shadowed path leading away from the palace. “Good. Let’s find a more private setting for our little chat.”