The Debt Of Fate

Chapter 336: More important

Ernest did not look at anyone again.

Not at the nobles.

Not at his men.

Not even at the blade pressing against Anastasia’s neck.

Slowly—

He loosened his grip.

His sword slipped from his hand and fell to the floor with a sharp clang.

The sound echoed through the hall.

For a moment, no one moved.

Anastasia’s eyes widened.

"My lord—" she whispered.

But Ernest did not speak.

Behind him, his men looked at one another.

Pain showed in their eyes.

Then, one by one, they followed his lead.

Swords dropped.

Metal struck stone.

The sound repeated again and again until it filled the hall.

Clang.

Clang.

Clang.

Finally, the last blade fell.

Ernest slowly lowered himself to his knees.

His men did the same.

The hall was silent except for heavy breathing.

The royal guards tightened their grip on their weapons, still cautious.

No one trusted the sudden surrender.

Edward did not move at first.

He stood still, watching.

His eyes moved from Ernest... to the kneeling soldiers... to the fallen swords scattered across the floor.

"Secure them," he ordered carefully.

Guards rushed forward, kicking the swords farther away.

They placed blades at the backs of Ernest’s men.

Anastasia’s breathing became uneven.

The knife was still at her throat.

A thin line of blood stained her collar.

Edward stepped forward slowly.

Very slowly.

He stared down at Ernest kneeling before him.

For a few seconds, his face remained guarded.

Suspicious.

Careful.

He waited.

No one resisted.

No one moved.

Even the sounds of fighting outside seemed distant now.

Then—

When the last of Ernest’s men had been forced fully to their knees...

When the final sword had been taken away...

Edward’s lips began to curl.

A low sound escaped him.

It started small.

A quiet chuckle.

Then it grew.

Louder.

Sharper.

Until it turned into full laughter that echoed wildly through the hall.

He threw his head back and laughed.

The sound was cold.

Cruel.

"You actually believed I would keep my word?" Edward said between laughs.

The nobles lowered their heads.

Some closed their eyes in shame.

Anastasia felt her heart sink.

Edward wiped at his eyes as if amused by a joke.

"Chain them," he said lightly. "All of them."

His gaze settled on Ernest.

"You were so close," he added softly. "So close to winning."

The guards grabbed Ernest roughly, forcing his arms behind his back.

Anastasia struggled against the blade at her throat.

"Do not touch him!" she cried.

Edward’s laughter slowly faded.

His face turned dark again.

"Bring her here," he ordered.

The knife pressed harder.

The hall remained filled with tension.

No one dared speak.

Ernest turned and looked at Anastasia.

Their eyes met.

Tears rolled down her face as the guards forced her forward.

Each step she took was slow and heavy.

She did not look away from him.

Edward watched the scene with interest, almost amused.

Anastasia walked past Edward.

One step.

Two steps.

Then—

Suddenly, she lifted her leg and kicked backward with all her strength.

Her heel struck her captor between his legs.

The attack was sharp and unexpected.

The man cried out in pain and lost his grip.

It was only a second.

A very short second.

But it was enough.

Anastasia twisted away and stumbled out of his reach.

Gasps filled the hall.

Ernest’s eyes flashed.

He had always known that rebellion was dangerous.

Long ago, he had quietly taught her small ways to defend herself.

How to watch.

How to strike.

How to escape.

When their eyes had met just moments ago, he had slightly shifted his gaze downward—

A silent signal.

Her captor’s weakest point.

Now she had used it.

Seeing Anastasia free, Ernest moved.

The guards holding him did not expect resistance.

He twisted his body sharply and drove his shoulder back.

One guard lost his balance.

Ernest slammed his elbow into the other’s chest and broke free.

At the same time—

The kneeling men behind him moved.

As one.

They had only pretended to surrender.

Each of them had hidden small blades beneath their sleeves, thin daggers tied against their arms, and short spikes sewn inside their belts.

In one swift motion, they reached for their concealed weapons.

Steel flashed again.

But this time, it came from men who had seemed defeated.

The royal guards were caught off guard.

One fell before he could raise his sword.

Another cried out as a hidden blade struck his side.

Chaos returned to the hall.

But now the balance had shifted again.

Ernest grabbed a fallen sword from the floor.

His movements were fast.

Precise.

Focused.

He stepped in front of Anastasia.

The royal guards tried to regroup.

They fought back fiercely.

But confusion slowed them.

They had believed the battle was over.

They had relaxed.

That mistake cost them.

Within moments, several guards lay wounded.

Others stepped back, unsure.

Edward’s expression changed from shock to fury.

"You dare—" he began.

But his words were drowned by the clash of steel.

Ernest’s men formed a tight circle once more, protecting both him and Anastasia.

This time, their eyes were cold.

They would not kneel again.

The hall was no longer a place of surrender.

It was a battlefield once more.

Edward looked at the scene before him. It had changed so fast, and he could tell that his guards could not hold on for long.

"Retreat," he ordered.

The royal guards, hearing this order, started to clear a path for Edward to escape the palace. Their biggest advantage was that they were more familiar with the royal palace.

"Chase," Ernest ordered. He planned to end the war today, but Edward had never underestimated Ernest. At that moment, smoke rose in the hall.

"Fire!" someone shouted.

The hall fell into chaos. The nobles who were hiding in a corner all got up and tried to exit the hall, not wanting to be burned alive.

Ernest pushed forward in an attempt to chase. Anastasia also meant to move forward, but she missed her step and, with a low gasp, fell forward.

Ernest paused his chase and returned to Anastasia, who had fallen halfway to the floor. He carried her and shielded her out of the hall. Nothing was more important than her safety.

His men covered their noses and continued the chase, but since they were not familiar with the palace layout, Edward and a handful of guards managed to escape the hall.