Serpent Emperor's Bride-Chapter 120: Blood Before Dawn

[House Karzath — The Same Night — Rakhane’s Office]

SLAM—!!!

The sound of shattering clay echoed through the chamber as the heavy vase struck the wall and exploded into pieces across the floor. Fragments scattered over the black stone tiles, some sliding under the table, others stopping near the edge of the carpet, stained with spilled wine and dust.

Rakhane stood in the middle of the room, breathing hard, his robe half loosened, his one visible eye burning with fury.

"That silver serpent...!" His voice shook with rage. "He ruined everything!"

His hand swept across the table, sending scrolls and inkstones crashing to the ground. "All of it... all my preparations... all the pressure on the court... gone in one night!"

Another cup hit the wall.

CRACK—

The sound lingered in the chamber like thunder. Across from him, sitting calmly on the low couch, Serath-min remained unmoving.

One leg crossed over the other, one hand resting against his knee, his expression unreadable.

Arkhazunn.

The only one in the room who did not react to the destruction. He watched the broken pieces on the floor for a long moment before speaking.

"...The silver serpent went beyond my expectations."

His voice was quiet.

Too quiet.

Rakhane turned sharply toward him, "What do you mean?"

Serath-min did not answer immediately. His eyes lowered slightly, as if replaying the events of the morning inside his mind.

"...He killed them."

Rakhane’s jaw tightened, "I know he killed them!"

Serath-min shook his head faintly.

"No." His gaze lifted slowly. "He killed them... and made it impossible for anyone to accuse him."

Silence.

Rakhane froze where he stood. Serath-min continued, his tone thoughtful, almost impressed.

"He destroyed the concubines before they even entered the palace...and when the court asked how they died..." A faint pause. "He gave them a monster to blame."

Rakhane’s eye narrowed.

"Us...The Black Serpent."

The name fell into the room like a curse. For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then Rakhane let out a bitter laugh, low and sharp.

"So that was his plan..." His fingers curled slowly. "He knew the court already know the poison in the palace... he knew they would believe the Black Serpent still hunts the throne..."

Serath-min nodded once.

"And by using that fear..." His lips curved faintly. "...he turned the enemy into his shield."

Rakhane’s expression darkened.

"That bastard..."

He walked back to the table, stepping over the broken vase without looking at it. "He killed every name on the list... and now the nobles themselves beg him to stop the concubine’s matter."

Serath-min leaned back slightly, his gaze distant.

"...Not only that."

Rakhane stopped.

Serath-min continued slowly.

"He made it look as if the palace itself rejected the idea. As if the throne chose the Malika... and refused all others."

The words hung heavy.

Rakhane’s teeth clenched.

"...He turned weakness into authority."

Serath-min’s eyes flickered faintly, "And fear... into loyalty."

Silence filled the room again. The blue lamp near the wall trembled slightly, the flame bending as if the air itself had shifted.

Rakhane spoke at last; his voice was now lower and colder.

"I underestimated him."

Serath-min did not deny it, "We both did; we never thought he would find a way to kill this trap."

Rakhane turned toward him slowly, his gaze sharpened. "...You sound almost impressed."

Serath-min met his eye without flinching.

"I am." A long pause. "The silver serpent is not acting like a serpent protecting his consort anymore. He is acting like a ruler protecting his throne."

Rakhane’s eye gleamed in the dim lamplight, the broken pieces of the vase still scattered across the floor like the remains of a failed ritual.

His voice lowered, colder than before.

"...There is still one way."

Serath-min’s gaze shifted toward him slowly.

Rakhane continued, each word measured.

"The silver serpent can endure insult. He can endure politics. He can even endure the court turning against him..." A faint smile twisted his lips.

"But he will not endure loss."

Silence fell, heavy and dangerous.

Rakhane’s voice dropped to a whisper.

"The only thing that can shatter both the Serpent Emperor... and the Malika..." His eye burned.

"...is a miscarriage."

The word lingered in the room like poison.

Serath-min did not react at first, but his fingers tightened faintly against his knee.

"...It has already been a month," Rakhane continued. "There has been no news of weakness... no illness... no loss."

His jaw clenched.

"That poison of yours was supposed to work slowly."

Serath-min exhaled slowly, his expression turning thoughtful.

"It was meant to weaken the body... not kill at once." A pause. "If the Malika had been an omega, it would have ended already, but he is not."

Rakhane cursed under his breath.

"That cursed Alpha body..."

Serath-min nodded faintly, "He survives where others would have fallen."

Silence.

Then Serath-min spoke again.

"I already sent the Black Serpents to Thalryn a few days ago. We will have news soon... whether the child still lives... or not."

Rakhane slowly leaned back, his breathing steady again, the anger turning into something far more dangerous.

Patience.

"Yes..."

His fingers tapped once on the table.

"Let the silver serpent smile for now." A faint smirk appeared. "When the child dies..."

His eye gleamed.

"...we will see how strong his throne really is."

The lamp flickered, and the room fell silent.

***

[Thalryn Empire — Veyrhold House — Levin’s Chamber — The Next Morning]

Morning came softly over Veyrhold.

The wind moved gently through the balcony curtains, carrying the cold scent of snow and pine into the chamber. The fire in the hearth had burned low during the night, leaving only warm embers glowing faintly in the ash.

It should have been a peaceful morning, but it was not.

DRIP.

A single drop fell from the edge of the bed.

DRIP.

Then another.

Dark red and thick. Slowly spreading across the wooden floor. The white sheets on the bed were soaked and stained deep crimson, the color too bright against the pale cloth, and the smell of iron heavy in the air.

On the bed, Levin knelt.

His breathing was uneven, shoulders rising and falling as he held a dagger in his hand, the blade still wet.

Blood ran down his fingers; across the mattress beside him lay two bodies.

Men.

Dressed in dark travel cloth, their faces twisted in death, throats cut clean before they could even shout.

One of them still had a hidden blade in his sleeve. The other had a black serpent mark faintly burned into the skin near his collarbone.

Levin exhaled slowly, wiping the blood from his cheek with the back of his wrist.

"...Too slow."

His voice was low.

Cold.

Lyresaph stood on the bed beside him, silver scales bristling, blue eyes burning as he sniffed the bodies with a low growl.

Asha jumped up after him, her paws landing near the dead man’s arm. She sniffed once—then hissed.

"Mrrr—!"

She kicked the man’s face hard with her paw, fur standing on end. Levin immediately grabbed her gently by the back.

"Don’t." His voice was firm. "Do not touch them."

He pushed the bodies aside with his foot, forcing them off the center of the bed.

"They are Black Serpents."

Lyresaph’s eyes narrowed, his tail lashing once before he stepped back, placing himself protectively near Levin’s side.

The wind moved the curtain again, and blood dripped from the bed to the floor.

DRIP.

DRIP.

Then the door opened.

"Malika... it is morning; it’s time to wake up. I brought—" Iru stepped inside, holding a small basin of warm water, and he stopped.

The basin slipped slightly in his hands. For a moment, he did not breathe; his eyes widened slowly as the smell of blood hit him.

The bed, the bodies, and the dagger are all present.

Levin covered in red.

The basin fell from his hand.

CLANG—!!

Water spilled across the floor, mixing with blood.

Iru stumbled back, his voice breaking.

"...M-Malika...?"

Levin did not move, only turned his head slightly as he said, his voice calm, "They came before the dawn."

Iru’s face went pale, his throat tightened, and then—

"CAPTAIN VARESH!!" His voice exploded through the hallway. "CAPTAIN RAEVAHN!! GUARDS!!"

Footsteps thundered outside at once, doors slammed open, and armor clattered. Varesh burst into the chamber first, sword already half drawn—and froze.

Raevahn stopped behind him; both men stared at the bed.

The blood and the bodies.

Levin is still kneeling there with the dagger in his hand.

For one second, no one moved.

Then Varesh rushed forward.

"Malika—!"

Lyresaph snarled instantly, stepping in front of Levin, silver aura flaring.

RAAAAAAWRR—!!

The air shook.

Varesh stopped mid-step, raising both hands.

"It’s me!"

Levin spoke without looking at him, "Stand down, Lyresaph."

"Stand down, Lyresaph."

The silver dragon hesitated, claws scraping lightly against the blood-stained wood. His blue eyes burned toward the door, unwilling to move, unwilling to trust the room even now.

For a moment, the air felt ready to break.

Then slowly—

Lyresaph lowered his head.

The glow around his scales faded, but his body remained tense, his tail curled protectively near Levin’s side, as if he would strike again the moment danger returned.

Raevahn stepped closer, careful, his hand still resting on the hilt of his sword. His eyes moved to the bodies lying on the bed, then to the black mark burned into the skin of one of the men.

His expression hardened at once.

"...Black Serpents."

The words fell heavy in the chamber.

Varesh’s jaw tightened. Iru covered his mouth, his face pale.

Levin climbed down from the bed without hurry, his bare feet touching the floor stained with blood. He wiped the dagger clean on the torn sheet before handing it to Varesh without even looking.

His voice remained calm.

Too calm.

"Call Physician Naram." He wiped the blood from his arm with the edge of the cloth, his brows faintly drawn. "Their blood touched my skin... who knows what poison runs in those veins."

Iru flinched.

"Yes—yes, Malika—!"

Levin stepped past them, already walking toward the door.

"Burn the bodies." His tone did not change. "Do not let the servants see them."

Varesh bowed slightly.

"As you command."

Levin left the chamber without looking back. Iru hurried after him, almost running to keep up. Behind them, Raevahn stared at the dead men for a long moment, then spoke under his breath.

"...How did they enter?"

Varesh did not answer at first, his eyes remained on the bodies, sharp, calculating.

"We sealed the gates."

Silence.

Raevahn’s gaze darkened.

"We doubled the guards since we arrived."

Varesh finally spoke, his voice low.

"...Then they did not enter from outside."

Raevahn looked at him. Varesh’s eyes narrowed slightly. "...Someone opened the way."

The words stayed in the air like smoke, neither of them spoke again, because both of them knew what that meant.

***

[Veyrhold House — Inner Hallway — Moments Later]

Levin walked down the long stone corridor, his robe thrown loosely over his shoulders, the faint smell of blood still clinging to him.

His steps were steady, but his eyes—Cold, sharp and far away. Behind him, Iru hurried, almost tripping over his own feet in panic.

"Malika... you must wash immediately... you cannot stay like this... what if their blood carries venom... what if—"

"Yes, Iru."

Levin did not stop walking.

His voice was quiet, but it cut through the panic easily.

"I will bathe."

Iru nodded quickly, still shaken.

"I—I will bring medicinal herbs... Physician Naram said the black serpent blood can carry curses... I will get the cleansing powder... wait here, Malika, do not touch anything—"

He turned and rushed down the other corridor without waiting for an answer.

Levin stopped, the hallway fell silent. Only the faint sound of wind through the windows remained.

Lyresaph padded beside him, silver tail flicking once, his eyes still alert. Asha followed, her small paws making soft sounds against the stone floor, her ears twitching nervously.

For a moment, Levin simply stood there.

Then—

"...Brother."

The voice came from the end of the corridor.

Levin lifted his eyes slowly. Aelira stood there, slightly out of breath, as if she had come in a hurry. Her hair was not fully tied, her robe thrown on carelessly, her expression twisted with something that did not look like worry.

Not exactly.

Not completely.

"...You’re... alright?"

She asked it like a question she did not want answered.

Levin looked at her carefully, his brows drew together slightly.

"...What do you mean, Aelira?"

She froze.

For a moment, she did not speak. Her fingers curled slowly at her side, nails pressing into her palm as her eyes moved over him.

No wounds, no weakness and no sign of loss.

Still alive.

Still standing.

Still carrying the child.

Something dark flickered behind her gaze.

’Why...’Her jaw tightened. ’Why are you still alive...?’

But her face changed before the thought could show. She forced a small breath and looked away.

"...Nothing."

Levin kept watching her.

Too long.

Too quietly.

The silence between them stretched, sharp as a blade. Lyresaph growled faintly. Asha’s tail puffed slightly.

Aelira felt it, and for a moment, even she lowered her eyes.

Levin turned away first.

"...Go back to your room." His voice was calm again. "We will speak later."

He walked past her without waiting.

Lyresaph followed.

Asha followed.

Aelira remained standing in the corridor, her fists still clenched, her nails digging into her skin as her thoughts screamed inside her head.

’Why...Why didn’t it work...Why won’t you fall...’

The wind moved through the hallway, and far away—inside Silthara Palace—the Serpent Emperor suddenly felt the bond tighten like a blade pulled across his chest.

The both empires standing on the edge of something that had not yet broken.