Back into the safety of the cabin, Kian sat on the couch while Ezrel stood stiffly in front of him. The man did not know why his master was in such a fury that he would even send Malak away. Seconds slowly passed by, as Kian continued to stare at his subordinate. It was as if he expected Ezrel to kneel and beg for his forgiveness. Magic trickled out of the man in waves, and it made Ezrel feel faint. He didn't know what to do.

“What's the meaning of this?” Kian finally asked.

Still not understanding what he was talking about, Ezrel carefully asked. “Was it a peasant that offended you?”

Kian raised a brow as his blood-red eyes glowed like a dangerous fire, ready to burn everything in his path.

“On the contrary, he offered me interesting information.”

“What may that be?”

Kian leaned his back on the sofa before crossing his arms. “The Imperial crest, for example… And human slaves.”

“My apologies!” Ezrel quickly said, with his eyes down. “After the Lord of Casrum invaded the palace, they cornered me in Your Majesty's quarters. I had to protect the core linking you to this world. Hence, I fled, and Serik Albimbert branded me a traitor for killing you and usurping the throne. With the core in my hands and your eventual return, the Kingdom will eventually go back to the rightful owner.”

“This tale of your prowess and devotion to me is heartwarming. However, you are outside the point.”

“Once I fled the capital, the new King sent the imperial guards to all the territories to enslave or kill the humans that were the root of the rebellion. As for the imperial crest, he changed it under the pretext of a new era where the Phoenix regrowth from his ashes.”

“What about our relationship with the other countries? I heard Albimbert is oppressing the demi-humans.”

“They ended all trades with us. It, however, only enraged the Lord of Casrum and oppressed them even more. A tiny mistake and they’ll also be enslaved.”

“He's unworthy of the throne. His greed is blinding his eyes. The King does not serve oneself but the people.”

“Your Majesty is truly fair and wise.”

“Stop your flattering. Instead, do you have news of our allies?”

“Not yet.”

Kian nodded and stood up. He looked at the maid. There were no words exchanged, but she nodded and disappeared behind the door. Then, Kian made his way to the window and stared at the forest, while showing his back to Ezrel.

“As much as I would like to storm in and strangle the man myself, this wouldn't be the most… Elegant method. Two hundred and fifty years have passed, and I doubt my subordinates remember me.”

“They wouldn't dare! As you saw in the town, the citizens are unhappy with the present King. If they knew of your return, they would surely give you support.”

“You're wrong. I am not the one favoured by the people, but Malak is. I have always been fair to my people, but I have heard rumours about how I changed since I married. Furthermore, I ended slavery and opened my ports to other countries because of Malak. As a result, the Kingdom bloomed. Malak is the key to their hearts.”

“But you didn't want me to reveal his return?”

“We will create a symbol as we help the denizens. They will be our messengers.”

At the same time, the maid knocked on the door before stepping away to let Malak in. Kian immediately lost the coldness in his facial expression and tone as he seemed to relax in the presence of his loved one.

“You asked for me?” Malak slightly tilted his head to the side.

“I did,” Kian smiled before extending his hand.

Malak grabbed it and they both sat down on the sofa. Although Kian could perfectly control his changes of emotions in a heartbeat, Ezrel wasn't as efficient. Malak noticed the hint of tension in him and the scent permeating the room.

“What's wrong?” the younger demon asked with a frown of worry.

“Your Majesty, we need your help to regain the kingdom,” Ezrel answered as Malak's back stiffened.

He hated it when his closest friends called him that. However, he didn't voice it. He quickly learned what his role entailed and all the rules that came with it.

“I'm listening.”

Ezrel briefed Malak on what they discussed in his absence. The latter didn’t show any change of expression. He stayed calm and collected while listening to everything Ezrel had to say. In the meantime, Kian was silent. Even though he knew Malak would accept the role, he feared the latter would resent him for utilizing him.

“I don’t see how I can help.”

“Although the Lords and Ladies were mostly against your union, the people celebrated. Words may have leaked that you were the one to convince the King to abolish slavery and open the Kingdom to the other countries,” Ezrel explained.

“At the moment, the people aren’t happy with Albimbert. I want to use that against him. We could start a rumour of your return by helping free the slaves and help the people in need,” Kian added.

“Centuries have gone, will they recognize me?”

“The humans may not, but the demons will. Two hundred and fifty years is nothing to us.”

Malak moistened his lips. “I will never forgive the perpetrators that brought harm to the Kingdom, but these humans…” he took a deep breath. “They are innocent. I won’t let that man destroy everything we worked so hard to build.”

“It will be dangerous and-”

“Then, you shouldn’t have sought my help in the first place,” Malak snapped at Ezrel as he apologized, but his expression couldn't contain his excitement at the events to come. “But I need to practice. It has been a while since I used magic.”

Malak's answer was firm and stopped anyone from objecting. It was a skill he unconsciously picked up from Kian over the years.

“We will go through it later today,” Kian added as relief and pride flooded him. “First, we need to plan our first target.”

Ezrel nodded, and the maid handed him a map of the Kingdom as soon as he extended his hand. He unrolled the paper before flattening it on the wooden coffee table in front of the sofa. Kian and Malak repositioned themselves on the sofa to get a clear look at the map.

“From what I have heard, the Lord of Casrum had allies that helped him claim the throne. His closest ally remains the Lord of Acrilas, Zakhar Zeytsev,” Ezrel explained while pointing at the nearby city Acrilas.

“Their alliance was no surprise since they were always friendly,” Kian shrugged. “Albimbert is in the centre and Zeytsev in the West. But who’s in the East?”

“Saka Kalejaiye, the Lord of Alidakovi.”

“They all own the biggest ports in the Kingdom. Yet, what purpose do they serve if the international exchange routes are closed?”

“I’m still working on that,” Ezrel answered Kian. “They, however, fight in a united front and keep a firm hand on the surrounding territories.”

“Then, our first target should be Acrilas?” Malak asked.

“It’ll be, but the risks are too great for our first target,” Ezrel said as he pointed towards a village on the border of both territories to the north. “We should aim here, Biraz.”

“What happened?”

“They call it a cleansing, but it is nothing more than a massacre. It’s no secret that the Lord of Nulundarar is against the new ruler. To make an example out of him, the Acrilas soldiers hung every fifth villager on an old oak tree. They could be men, women, or children. They didn’t care and even prohibited anyone from burying the corpses.”

Malak couldn’t believe his ears. How far does someone need to fall to commit such monstrosities? “How can I help? Fighting against the soldiers will only create more problems in the future.”

“Those who weren’t hung were either injured, raped or tortured. Then, the guards left the villagers with no food or means to recover. You could heal them and provide for food and warm clothing.”

“Of course, you'll do this while keeping your identity a secret, but let the villagers see you occasionally,” Kian said, leaning his head against his fist.

“Your pink iris are a rarity. Only a handful of people with that eye colour of eyes exist. The villagers will surely remember you,” Ezrel added as Malak was about to object.

“Also, Ezrel and I will accompany you under the guise of believers and spread your name.”

“I don’t see how giving them food and healing them with magic is considered a miracle,” Malak said, dubious about the plan.

“Not everyone can control magic. The ability to tame it is reflected in our eyes. The browner the eyes, the lower the magic affinity. This is why a pinkish-red is so rare,” Kian explained as Malak tried to remember the people's eye colour.

“The guards would have captured or eliminated anyone with magical power. They wouldn’t want the risk of anyone opposing them.”

“How could I forget this?” Malak frowned with his hand resting against his forehead.

Kian gently took his hand. “Your soul waited a long time before being reincarnated. A few gaps of memory are to be expected.”

Malak nodded in understanding. “We will need clothes to play the part.”

“Nothing magic can’t fix,” Kian smiled as he waved his hand before a pristine black cloak with golden treads with a few accessories appeared in Malak’s lap.

Ezrel grabbed his black cloak and silver mask before standing up. “Tonight’s meal is ready. Please, enjoy and have a good night of rest.”