Chapter 74: Fucked, and NOT in the Good Way.

Not long after Kaelis’ interruption, another presence stepped onto the field.

Aamon.

At first, it was only the shift in air that gave him away. The chatter died down almost instinctively. Knights straightened. Some even swallowed.

Ezra turned.

And immediately felt it.

The calm composure that usually defined Captain Aamon, head captain of all knights, the king’s right hand, was gone.

Replaced.

With something darker.

Anger.

Disappointment.

Two emotions no knight ever wanted directed at them.

Because when Aamon felt anger and disappointment—

Cruelty followed.

“Agh—! C-Captain… ah… please!”

The cry tore through the field.

Ezra’s eyes snapped forward just in time to see Aamon grab a knight by the collar and swing his sheathed sword across the man’s face. The impact was brutal even without the blade drawn. The crack of wood against bone echoed.

The knight collapsed.

But Aamon did not stop.

It wasn’t just one.

Seven Emberguard knights were already on the ground, one by one shoved down, struck across the back, the legs, the arms. Not enough to maim. Enough to humiliate.

Enough to hurt.

“Captain Aamon… please show mercy!”

“Captain, please—!”

“Prince Kaelis, please help us!”

Their voices broke between fear and pain.

Kaelis did not move.

He did not look at them.

And even if he had, they would not have liked what they saw.

For the first time in all the years Ezra had known him—

Kaelis’ face was cold.

No teasing smile.

No exaggerated annoyance.

Just grim restraint.

’That is unsettling,’ Ezra thought, folding his arms across his chest. ’Almost frightening, if I did not know what an insufferable whoreman he usually is.’

Helios glanced at him.

Only for a second.

It was enough.

They both understood.

Helios inhaled slowly and stepped forward.

He moved with calm purpose toward Aamon, who was still delivering measured, punishing strikes.

And that was when Ezra noticed something else.

It was not only the seven Emberguard members kneeling in the dirt.

Behind them—

Four Sunward Sentinels.

Helios’ order.

Standing rigid.

Eyes lowered.

Ashamed.

’Seriously?’

Ezra thought, narrowing his eyes. ’What in Aurethys did they do?’

Helios reached Aamon just as another strike landed.

He placed a firm hand on Aamon’s shoulder.

“Captain Aamon.”

Aamon stopped.

The field went silent.

Slowly, Aamon turned.

Even in rage, he maintained discipline.

“Prince Helios,” he greeted, voice tight but controlled.

“What happened here?” Helios asked evenly. His tone was calm, but there was weight behind it. “What did these men do?”

His gaze flicked past the Emberguard.

“And I can see members of my order present as well.”

Aamon’s jaw tightened.

For a brief moment, his eyes flicked toward the kneeling knights.

Then back to Helios.

“They forgot themselves,” Aamon said.

The words were simple.

But heavy.

Aamon’s grip tightened around his sheathed sword.

Ezra’s arms remained crossed, but his posture shifted.

’Forgot themselves?’ he repeated inwardly. ’That sounds worse than a simple brawl.’

One of the Emberguard knights whimpered quietly.

Aamon did not look at him.

“Captain Ezra.”

Aamon did not raise his voice.

He did not need to.

The calmness in it was worse than shouting. It slid down Ezra’s spine like cold steel.

Ezra stepped forward at once. “Yes, Captain.”

“Sunward Sentinels. Formation.”

Simple. Direct.

Unforgiving.

It landed like a blade against stone.

Ezra turned sharply, voice cutting through the field. “Sunward Sentinels. On me. Formation. Now.”

No one hesitated.

No one dared.

They had all seen what Aamon had done moments ago. The crack of his sheathed sword against bone still echoed faintly in memory.

Boots tore into the dirt. Armor shifted. Lines snapped into place with drilled precision. Any embarrassment, any confusion, any pride was swallowed whole by discipline.

Ezra walked along the forming ranks, gaze sharp and unforgiving.

“Straighten your line. Shoulders aligned. Eyes forward.”

A knight adjusted instantly.

Another swallowed but did not move out of place.

No one breathed too loudly.

Across the field, Razor was gathering the Emberguard into a block of black and white, tight and silent. Zaide did the same with Dawnward Bloom, pale gold armor catching the fading light. They were rigid. Still.

The air had changed.

Only minutes ago, there had been laughter. Banter. The lingering thrill of competition.

Now it felt suffocating.

Heavy.

From the corner of his eye, Ezra saw Aamon moving.

Not fast.

Not wild.

Measured.

Deliberate.

He seized one Emberguard knight by the collar and dragged him forward. The man stumbled but did not resist. Dust clung to his knees as he was shoved down at the center of the field.

Another followed.

Then another.

Seven in total.

Placed in front of everyone like criminals awaiting a sentence.

Behind them—

Four Sunward Sentinels.

Ezra’s Sentinels.

Helios stepped slightly forward.

“Heads down, men.”

The order was quiet. Controlled.

Helios did not yet know what had happened. But he trusted Aamon enough to know this anger had a reason.

The four lowered their heads instantly. Hands clenched at their sides.

Shame radiated off them.

’Unbelievable,’ Ezra thought, jaw tightening as he watched them. ’You let yourselves get dragged into whatever this is.’

His gaze flicked briefly to Aamon.

The head captain stood tall, shoulders squared, sheathed sword still in hand.

There was no chaos in him.

No loss of control.

That was what made it worse.

When Aamon lost control, it was loud.

When he chose control—

It meant he had already decided how this would end.

The princes stood slightly behind and to the side of Aamon.

Not as shields.

Not as decoration.

As witnesses.

Kaelis’ expression was dark, jaw tight, eyes sharp as broken glass. There was no exaggerated annoyance, no dramatic sigh. No humor at all.

Just anger.

The kind that simmered instead of flared.

Aurien stood beside him, unusually quiet. His usual warmth had faded, replaced by focused attention. He was watching the kneeling knights carefully, studying them as if trying to understand how this had unfolded.

’I’m sure he’s relieved there isn’t anyone from Dawnward Bloom in front,’ Ezra thought faintly.

Then his gaze shifted to Helios.

Helios did not look angry.

He looked disappointed.

And somehow that was worse.

That one struck deeper.

Once every knight was in place, silence swallowed the field whole. Not even armor shifted.

Aamon stepped forward.

The sheathed sword in his hand was streaked with dust and dirt from where it had struck flesh and ground alike.

“The seven before you,” he began, voice calm but heavy, “are members of the Emberguard.”

He did not rush.

He let the weight of it sink in.

“The four beside them are Sunward Sentinels.”

Ezra felt his entire order straighten instinctively. Shoulders squared. Chins lifted slightly.

Shame and tension rippled through the ranks.

Aamon’s gaze swept across every single knight.

“The six teams assigned to Prince Kaelis have failed. All of them. Because of the men kneeling before you now.”

A murmur broke loose before anyone could stop it.

“What did they do?”

“Fucking hell…”

“In Aurethys’ name, what happened?”

“This is a mess.”

It spread in hushed whispers.

Aamon’s eyes lifted.

That was all it took.

The murmurs died instantly.

“They did not fail because they were outmatched,” Aamon continued. “They failed because they refused to work together.”

A pause.

“But that is the least of their crimes.”

His voice hardened.

“There were betrayals.”

The word echoed through the field.

’Betrayals?’ Ezra repeated inwardly, something cold sliding into his stomach.

Aamon turned slightly toward the seven Emberguard.

“These seven colluded with one another. Though assigned to separate teams, they coordinated privately.”

One of the kneeling knights squeezed his eyes shut, jaw clenched.

“They sabotaged their teammates. Withheld support when it mattered. Created deliberate gaps in formation.”

Aamon’s grip tightened faintly around the hilt of his sheathed sword.

“All to ensure that the team with the highest number of Emberguard would win.”

A sharp intake of breath rippled through the field like wind over dry leaves.

Ezra’s eyes narrowed.

’How bold of them,’ he thought.

But more than bold.

Idiotic.

’You were standing under Aamon’s eyes. Under one of the three princes. Did you truly think no one would notice?’

Aamon’s gaze shifted to the four kneeling Sentinels.

“These four discovered the scheme.”

For half a heartbeat, Ezra felt relief loosen his chest.

’Good,’ he thought. ’At least someone—’

“And instead of reporting it,” Aamon continued evenly, “they attempted to replicate it.”

The relief died instantly.

The four Sentinels flinched.

Ezra felt his jaw tighten.

’Stupid,’ he thought sharply. ’So fucking stupid.’

“They sought to manipulate the outcome in retaliation.”

Helios’ jaw flexed, just once.

“That decision escalated the conflict. Blades were drawn after the signal ended. Strikes were thrown in pride.”

Aamon did not shout.

He did not need to.

His voice dropped.

Lower.

Colder.

“You turned a lesson in unity into a contest of ego.”

No one breathed.

Ezra felt heat climb slowly into his chest.

Anger.

Disappointment.

’Idiots,’ he thought. ’You were given a chance to grow.’

Aamon stepped closer to the kneeling group.

“You forgot yourselves.”

One of the Emberguard finally broke.

“Captain, we only wanted to prove Emberguard is still the strongest—”

The crack of Aamon’s sheathed blade striking the ground cut him off mid-sentence.

The sound snapped through the field.

“You prove strength,” Aamon said evenly, “through discipline.”

His eyes burned.

“Not through treachery.”

The knight’s shoulders sagged.

And for the first time since Aamon had stepped forward, the weight of what they had done truly settled over the entire field.

“And of course, punishments are in order.”

Oh.

They were fucked.

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