The Abused is The Abuser in Another World

Chapter 17: Divided Paths

The grand hall of Stormhaven was filled with the morning light that filtered through the towering stained-glass windows, casting vibrant colors across the stone floor. King Edric Arathorne III sat upon his throne, a formidable figure clad in dark blue robes trimmed with silver. His cold gray eyes surveyed the room with the calm calculation of a seasoned ruler, never showing the storm of ambition and paranoia that simmered beneath. The royal banner, a silver sword on a blue field crossed by a white wolf's head, hung prominently behind him, a silent reminder of his house's strength and legacy.

A young servant approached the throne, his steps quick but nervous. He bowed deeply, his voice steady but laced with fear.

"Your Majesty, I bring urgent news from the Duchy of Valewood," the servant announced, his head still bowed.

King Edric leaned forward, his interest piqued by the mention of Valewood, a territory that had long been a barrier to his southern expansion. "Speak," he commanded, his voice a measured growl, betraying the fierce desire for control that drove him.

The servant straightened, swallowing hard before continuing. "The Duke of Valewood, Duke Cedric, has been murdered... brutally. His head was found impaled outside the walls of Valewood Keep. The duchy is in chaos, and no one knows who is responsible."

A murmur rippled through the court, but Edric remained silent, his cold eyes narrowing. "Murdered, you say?" His tone was icy, devoid of surprise. "And what of the new leadership?"

The servant shifted uncomfortably. "Your Majesty, it seems the duke's son, Julian Valewood, has been placed in power. But..."

"But?" Edric's voice sharpened, a thin smile tugging at his lips.

"He is young and inexperienced. The nobles are scrambling for power, using him as a puppet."

King Edric's smile widened ever so slightly, a cruel satisfaction glinting in his eyes. "A puppet. How convenient." He glanced toward his advisors, his voice growing darker. "Valewood is ripe for the taking."

One of his closest advisors, Lord Garreth, a stout man with graying hair and a reputation for ruthlessness, stepped forward. "Indeed, Your Majesty," he replied, his tone dripping with sly ambition. "An unstable Valewood is an opportunity—one we cannot afford to miss."

Edric nodded, pleased with Garreth's alignment. "Send an intelligence unit immediately," he ordered, his tone as cold as his gaze. "I want to know everything—its defenses, its nobles, and their loyalties. I want to know who mourns the duke and who celebrates his death."

He paused for a moment, his fingers steepling before his face as he looked out across the hall. "We will act with precision. Gather every detail, and then, we will decide how best to strike."

In Valewood Keep, the atmosphere was tense and filled with whispered conspiracies. Duke Cedric's death had plunged the duchy into turmoil, and young Julian Valewood sat on the high seat, far too small for the burden thrust upon him. His dark hair fell into his eyes as he nervously gripped the armrests, trying to mask his fear.

The nobles surrounding him, hawkish in their gaze, sensed his weakness. Among them, Lord Rennard stepped forward, his dark beard framing a face that held nothing but ambition.

"Your Grace," Rennard began smoothly, bowing just enough to show respect, but not submission. "We must discuss the future of Valewood. With your father gone, leadership falls to you. But you are not alone. The noble houses are here to support you... if you allow it."