Chapter 99 : Of Ashes and Revelation

✦ Chapter 99 ✦

Of Ashes and Revelation

Within the shadowed edges of Herzburg’s 7th Street stood a weatherworn house, its red bricks faded with time, its blue roof dulled by rain. Behind it, a forgotten warehouse held its breath in silence—until the door burst open.

Johannes, face carved with discontent, flung Porche Max’s limp body onto the dust-choked floor. The thud of impact was swallowed by the stillness, as a cloud of dust rose like the echo of a ghost.

He remained for a moment, standing amidst the gloom, his expression twisted by thoughts too tangled to speak.

Something far more vast than they had foreseen was at play.

His eyes dropped to the man at his feet—the traitor. The whisper of memory stirred:

I was the one who reported them.

It had been Porche Max who pointed the accusing finger at Max Russell and Lucas Schulz, claiming treason, murmuring rebellion. Now it made cruel sense—Russell’s presence in Herzburg, a city veiled in the secrecy of alchemists, had not been mere coincidence. It had been strategy.

Johannes cast a glance around the warehouse. Stacks of untouched crates loomed like tombstones. The air smelled of rusted iron and old betrayal.

When had it begun?

His brow furrowed.

Isaac Prim. Alive. The possibility gnawed at logic. He himself had stood beside the sergeant’s shrouded body, had heard the declaration of death.

How can a man walk who has died?

Fragments of memory flared.

Isaac’s eyes, always watchful. His worsening illness. The skin that blackened with each passing day.

He had died alone. Soldiers had fled, fearing infection. No one had dared care for him.

But had he truly perished?

A sound snapped Johannes from thought. Behind the crates, something stirred. He turned sharply, fingers curling around the cold metal of his pistol.

A shadow moved.

Then stepped into the light.

Johannes’ heart stilled.

It was him.

Isaac Prim. Or perhaps—Max Russell.

“Would you lock the door, please? I don’t want Edith to see me.”

The voice—familiar, calm, cruel in its familiarity.

Johannes let out a mirthless laugh.

“Sergeant Prim. Or should I say, Marquis Russell?”

Isaac emerged fully into view. His face was sunken, bones sharp beneath a sickly pallor. The warmth he once carried in his expression was now a hollow memory.

“I abandoned that name long ago,” he said, shrugging. “Now, I’m no noble. Just a soldier.”

He glanced at Porche Max, sprawled unconscious, then shut his eyes as if in regret.

“Had I not come here today, I would’ve never known he was a traitor. I still had a sliver of faith. Foolish, wasn’t it?”

He raised a gun and pointed it at Porche’s head.

Johannes stepped forward sharply. “Are you mad? Put that down. The shot would summon everyone—Edith included.”

He yanked the pistol away. Isaac didn’t resist.

“Don’t worry,” he muttered. “The desire is there, but I won’t pull the trigger. Not yet.”

Pain twisted his features.

“That look suits you poorly, Commander. I never thought I’d see you so shaken. Consider it punishment—for ignoring my warning.”

“Warning?”

“I told you to stay away from Edith. You should never have dragged her into this.”

Johannes’ eyes narrowed. “And I was supposed to obey, without reason? She’s my wife.”

“Wife,” Isaac echoed bitterly. “You sought out Mrs. Russell’s daughter for her influence. Don’t pretend it was pure.”

Johannes fell silent. Truth, when flung like a blade, always cuts.

But regret changes nothing.

“Why?” he asked. “Why remain hidden while your wife grieved in torment?”

Isaac’s jaw clenched.

“Because if my survival were known, Edith would be hunted. My silence was protection.”

Johannes stared into his eyes—green, and familiar.

“Is this connected to the royal family?”

The silence that followed was answer enough.

“Then let me ask you one thing,” Isaac said. “Do you love her? Do you love Edith?”

Johannes paused.

The silence held.

“Regardless,” Isaac continued, “you must leave her. She deserves a life untouched by this web of darkness.”

He stepped forward, voice low.

“You understand now, don’t you? The truth will devour her. I ask this—no, I beg this—for her sake.”

And so the dam broke.

Isaac began to speak—not in riddles, not in cryptic fragments, but in truth.

And as the warehouse swallowed each word, Johannes felt the walls of their world tremble. What he heard next would change everything.

Forever.