The Royal War Hammer

Chapter 8 War with Marley

Today marks the pivotal gathering where my uncle is expected to be present. It's a delicate dance of deception as I escort Eren, who appears as nothing more than an injured man to the unsuspecting eyes of the crowd. Thankfully, my relatives never question my actions, although the thought lingers that any slip-up could complicate matters significantly.

Eren's gaze betrays a mix of nerves and resolve. "Do we have to follow through with the battle as our memories dictate? I dread the idea of endangering you."

"Agreed," I admit reluctantly. "But any deviation might raise suspicion. Besides, I've cloaked my royal heritage, suppressing the Founding Titan's aura to evade detection by the other shifters. Just be wary of Galliard; his strength could shatter my crystal."

"I promise," he declares with a sincerity that resonates between us, our shared understanding a silent pact. With a nod of affirmation, I leave Eren beneath the stage, trusting our meticulous plans to unfold flawlessly.

The backstage atmosphere crackles with tension, each word my uncle Willy utters slicing through the air like a sharpened blade. His narrative weaves a tapestry of lies, casting Eren as the personification of all malevolence. My gaze flits towards where the Warrior Unit once occupied space, now conspicuously vacant. A bitter realization dawns—Yelena must have lured them into a trap, leaving only Falco and Reiner by Eren's side as instructed.

"To the enemy forces of Paradis... a declaration of war!" As Uncle Willy's voice crescendos, heralding Eren's dramatic entrance, the stage itself seems to shudder in anticipation. Eren's eruption onto the scene is a spectacle of destruction, the building's foundation crumbling behind him. Debris flies towards the unsuspecting audience, a visceral reminder of the raw power he wields. In one swift motion, Eren seizes my uncle, hurling him skyward before devouring him whole—an act both savage and poetic in its retribution.

Had my parents still breathed, the sight of Eren's brutal retribution might have ignited a fire of rage within me, fueled by a thirst for vengeance. But as I witness the demise of the murderer of my kin, a grim sense of satisfaction settles in, a long-awaited reckoning fulfilled. Around me, the absence of those who once shamed me is palpable, their judgment no longer a weight upon my shoulders. In this moment, I allow myself a selfish thought—I am finally unbound.

Despite the blood seeping from a wound on my forehead, a testament to the chaos enveloping us, I stand resolute. Eren's relentless assault on the Marleyan military unfolds before me. "It seems my part in this tale begins now," I murmur to myself, bracing for the tumultuous events yet to transpire.

As I begin my transformation into the War Hammer Titan, Eren's swift approach catches me off guard. His fists rain down upon me, each blow tinged with a palpable reluctance. Yet, it's precisely this resistance that I seek, a catalyst for the performance we must enact. I allow him to continue, absorbing each blow until the time is right.

With determination, I retaliate, conjuring a massive spike of crystal from the ground that impales Eren's torso. The fight is underway—a spectacle for the masses, but a facade concealing our shared reluctance.

Despite Eren's enhanced strength honed through our sparring sessions in Stammer, I maintain the upper hand. As he emerges from his nape, I seize the opportunity to confront him. "Usurper Eren Yeager. Do you have any last words?"

His response is terse, laden with resignation, "Now or never, Mikasa."

At that moment, Mikasa reveals herself, her presence a jolt amidst the chaos. Armed with spears, she aims for my nape, each strike sending waves of agony coursing through me. Despite the pain, I press on, driven by the necessity of our charade.