Chapter 17: Chapter 16: The Four Admirals

Chapter 16: The Four Admirals

The cabin was well-lit — a sleek contrast to the dim, candlelit halls Chloe was used to in the castle.

LED strips glowed from the ceiling, casting light over polished counters, a steel stove, and a modern double-door refrigerator. Through a side door, she glimpsed a spacious living room. It felt like something out of the 21st century — the kind of interior she’d only seen in old books or once within the inner castle walls.

At the dining table, Youssef Trabelsi looked up from a leather-bound book.

“Good evening, Lady Chay,” he said. “You look ready.”

Chloe blinked once, still registering the room, then nodded. “Let’s begin.”

A small smirk crossed his lips. “Do you wish to die today?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Excuse me?”

He didn’t laugh. “ To awaken Animencor, one must touch the edge of death—not symbolically. Literally. It’s not something you simply study. It’s something you survive.”

He closed the book, stood, and moved to the stove. After turning off the burner, he gestured for her to sit.

“There are three known forms of Animencor: Armament, Observation, and Conqueror’s. Each is an extension of willpower — physical, instinctual, or commanding. But none will awaken unless you’ve stood at the edge and refused to fall.”

Her voice caught. “And if I fail?”

“I’ll bury you,” he replied, calmly. “Failure isn’t an option for you.”

He poured tea into two ceramic cups. “Drink. You decide when the training begins.”

Chloe took the cup and held it firmly. No hesitation.

“We start tonight.”

Trabelsi nodded. “Very well. Let’s finish the tea.”

They drank in silence, the tension thick but focused. When the final sip was gone, Chloe stood.

“I’m ready.”

“Follow me.”

They stepped into the cold, the forest whispering with quiet sounds. Chloe’s heartbeat slowed. No longer clouded by mystery, she now faced a trial — one she refused to lose.

Meanwhile, in the royal sanctum of the outer castle, every screen in the six kingdoms displayed the same broadcast: King Aldric and Queen Seraphina beneath the ceremonial arch, preparing to make their union official before the Six Realms.

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This was no hollow celebration. It was a power move — and a public reckoning.

One by one, the Four Admirals stepped forward to acknowledge there union .

Lord Maelor Varun, Commander of the Secret Police, came first. Dressed in black with silver insignia, he bowed low — though his sharp eyes never left the king’s. A cousin to Aldric, his bloodline carried both trust and threat.

“Your Majesties,” he said, “the eyes and ears of the realm stand ever vigilant. The Secret Police enforce your will.”

His tone held no ambiguity — Maelor’s loyalty lay with the king, and his presence signaled quiet defiance against the Doctors’ long-held dominance.

Admiral Arwen Kael, a woman of power and beauty, leader of the Guards, strode forward . At her hip rested the Iron Lily, one of the legendary black blades — rumored to possess a will of its own.

“By my blade and soul, no harm shall touch this kingdom,” she declared. “We serve the people and the crown alike ”

The Guards remained neutral. Their allegiance was to the law itself, preserving balance between monarch and Doctors alike.

Admiral Elric Castellanos, head of the Doctors’ Circle, approached next. Ageless, eerily composed, he gave only the slightest nod — not a bow.

“Health is power,” he said. “We protect the bloodline and its secrets. We will observe this union... closely.”

His words were clinical, but beneath them lay a quiet threat. The Doctors had not forgotten the king’s reforms: the abolition of slavery titles, the Global Butler Exams. They waited. Patiently. for a slip up .

Aurelius Wren,the Head Butler was last. He did not bow.He entered sipping tea, a small porcelain cup in one hand, plate in the other — power move or disrespect? No one could say.

“Your Majesties,” he said, unfazed, “the Royal Butlers stand ready — to serve your tea, guard your lives, and, if needed, bury your enemies in silence. We are the last discipline between order and collapse.”

Whispers echoed through the chamber. Many believed Wren to be the strongest Animencor user alive — and the kingdom’s most dangerous man. The Butlers served no side. Only stability.

The camera lingered on the four admirals — loyalty, tension, and barely veiled rivalries — before returning to the king and queen.

Aldric stepped forward, voice heavy with purpose.

“Citizens of the Six Realms,” he said, “I may not wield power, but I wield something greater — unity. Our future is not built on might alone, but on trust. And today, the queen beside me is its beating heart.”

Seraphina rose beside him, voice steady, commanding.

“I was born in chains,” she said. “But I stand before you crowned not by mercy — but by resilience. Let our union be proof that even the lowest can rise — and rule justly.”

The broadcast echoed through every city and every district. Applause followed.

But behind the cheers, power was shifting — and every admiral knew it.

The real test had only just begun.

Across the kingdom, the ceremony unfolded not just in the grand hall, but in living rooms, guard posts, and crumbling streets. In a modern house in the inner castle , a Doctor watched in silence, surrounded by vigilant Butlers. His lip curled in disdain each time the camera lingered on the former slave now crowned queen. The moment Seraphina began to speak, he abruptly cut the screen to black. Elsewhere, in a crammed alleyway in the outer districts of the UK-GRAND royal kingdom, a battered radio crackled. Dozens of commoners huddled around it, breath held. As Seraphina’s voice rose, their world fell quiet—then erupted with cheers and chants: “Seraphina! Seraphina!” And far out in an owter Guard outpost, The moment Admiral Arwen Kael stepped onscreen, the room exploded—mugs raised, boots stomping, half-drunken soldiers howling in awe. Discipline forgotten, they danced like wild men, all secretly—or not so secretly—infatuated with their legendary commander.