Sitting in a deep dark cell, in a location that was far beyond him, Salin thought about how his life had come to this.

  He had been living the best life he could dream of, regarded as important wherever he went. He saw the apprehension in people's faces whenever he walked in, the realization that an Empire's Hidden Protector was in the premises sent shivers down their spines.

  People whose names appeared in the Empire's Hidden Protectors book of death never saw him coming; one moment, they were alive, merry and unaware that their lives had already ended, and the next, they were gone—dead, with a snap of the finger. And the ones who were forewarned of his arrival always lived in terror wherever they ran to, thinking they could escape his blade if they hid well enough... Their demise was always lousy when it came.

  It had all come crashing down when he'd met that man—A Spirit lord, as he'd been unfortunate to discover. Now that he knew better, he shouldn't have followed the man; he should have fled to the other way as soon as he'd suspected something was wrong. Now he was paying for it.

  Stuck in a boxed-in cell with no entrance that he could see or feel, and in a facility that was likely buried deep somewhere in the middle of nowhere. There wasn't even any presence—both audio and visual—of the common critters that usually graced prison cells. The only sign that he wasn't alone was the high-pitched screams that occasionally jolted him up in fright every few hours. Voices of plea in different languages. Ironically, that had been the thing that clued him in as to where he'd been dumped.

  The Warren.

  To him, it was a myth—never seen, only heard. It was the highest and most secure holding facility in the entire Empire, and likely one of the top around the world. A place where the Empire kept its high-level prisoners, those with great power and influence. He had never been allowed in the place before, and even his status as a Hidden Protector couldn't get him the clearance to even know the location. All he'd known was that it existed and was used to hold key figures.

  The Warren was a hell on earth, a graveyard where the Empire kept people, either to be tortured continually for information, or be left alone to wither and die. Their only company? the constant screaming and begging of their fellow prisoners, who they couldn't see. And now he was sitting here, not as a visitor but as an inmate.

  Cheers, you couldn't get any lower than this! He thought to himself.

  Prior to his arrival here, he had woken up next to an emotionally and spiritually crushed Spirit lady. His torturer hadn't even paid him any kind of attention when he came too, despite his evident terror at her being the first thing he saw waking up. The knowledge of what had been inflicted on him was still hot and new in his mind. He shivered at the memory.

  When other Pillars had begun arriving, he had learned soon enough what had happened. One of the most feared and powerful people on the planet was left crushed and broken, never to rise again. The other? Dead, torn to pieces. All done by a single man.

  He was immediately taken into custody, no questions asked. They had knocked him unconscious immediately after and thrown him into this dark hole of terrors, leaving him here for days to stew and simmer in the dreadful shrieks that occasionally cut through the everlasting darkness.

  His loneliness here had eventually given him the time to sit and think coherently, making him understand what he had escaped from. The fact that he had encountered that monster and had been left unscathed should have been a cause for jubilation, but his current situation didn't leave room for any sort of celebration.

  He was still in his head when he suddenly felt himself being dragged through space. He panicked and tried to fight back, but eventually succumbed to the insurmountable Will pulling him in.

  "I thought teleportation was blocked in this place," was the last thing he thought before he was whisked away, leaving his dark room once again empty.

  When he reappeared, he immediately collapsed onto his knees, pressure crashing down on him. The sheer presence filling the room was so powerful that he felt the air flee from his lungs, as if it was unwilling to be associated with him. He couldn't think, and his vision was slowly darkening at the edges.

  I'm going to die, he thought, terror stirring quickly within him. Tears pooled in his eyes as he succumbed to his fate, but just then, the pressure disappeared.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  It wasn't entirely gone, just there, a constant reminder of the powers in the room. Given a reprieve from the crushing presence, he immediately drew in huge gasps of air, filling his lungs. It was at that moment that he finally took notice of the other occupants in the room.

  Pillars, all.

  Eleven of them stood on both sides of the throne room in which he now found himself. The auras emanating from them were so crushing that it felt like he was holding up a mountain, and the only reason he hadn't been crushed was that they were leashing themselves tightly. And even still, the echoes almost made him collapse from sheer mental and bodily exhaustion.

  They were dressed in different outfits, from crisp military suits to casual wear and armor. And then there were those in opulent dresses that glittered with different colors under the bright golden rays pouring into the room.

  His status in the Empire as a hidden protector allowed him certain information, knowledge which was only known to those at the top. It was an uncertain speculation on the number of Spirit Lords fielded by the Empire. Many guessed that it was close to ten, but not more than. While others predicted a number reaching twenty or so.

  Salin for a fact that the Empire fielded no less than a dozen Spirit lords, minus the Emperor, himself.

  It was a feat unaccomplished by any of the other kingdoms, the reason that had kept many from even the thought of an invasion. So it was a little confusing at first when he counted only eleven Spirit lords present in the throne room, until he remembered that the Empire had recently lost a Spirit lord, by his doing.

  Elora Darkfang stood in one corner of the room, face turned downward. If he didn't know for a fact that she was a Spirit lady, he'd have thought her a servant, judging from how she stood apart from the rest, like a lesser.

  The attention he drew when he appeared didn't seem like anything good, and the thinly veiled bloodlust radiating from most of the lords present confirmed that it definitely wasn't anything good. Even his patron, who stood to his right, seemed to have had a changed opinion about him. And there goes my only path out of this mess, he thought.

  The man with the single most powerful aura in the room was the Emperor. He was a fit man, if a little bit short by most standards. His body was unnaturally toned, sculpted completely to perfection, just like his face. He looked like an art sculpture given life.

  The Emperor sat on a golden throne, resting domineeringly balanced on the sunburst sigil on his headrest. The throne was on a bright golden dais, with two guards standing on both sides of its foot—both Peak tier Monarchs. Formality, he could tell.

  He was clothed in a flowing red garment, with black linings on the wrists and neck. A golden circlet rested on his harsh red hair, matching his similarly golden eyes. Salin quickly averted his face when his eyes met those glowing golden pupils.

  Head bowed, Salin was eerily aware that the Emperor's eyes were on him, studying him with suffocating silence. Ten thousand years and a minute later, the Emperor spoke.

  "Come," His authority-filled voice cut through the heated silence, drowning out the blood Salin could feel rushing through his ears.

  He dared not disobey, crawling on his knees with haste towards the foot of the throne.

  When he stopped, he looked up to see the Emperor regarding him with impassive coolness, his face completely emotionless. His aura, on the other hand, was filled with such heat and crushing force that Salin didn't know if he was going to be lit first or crushed to death. Thankfully, the Emperor reined in his aura, drawing it back and leaving Salin to sweat.

  "Do you know why you have been brought here?"

  Salin swallowed and nodded. "I... I unknowingly revealed... classified information to an enemy of the Empire," he answered truthfully. It didn't take him long to figure that one out; Elora Darkfang had accused him of it just before she had set on him one of her dark-wrought children.

  "Not just any Empire enemy, the man you revealed our secret to is possibly one of the greatest enemies of the Empire." The tone the Emperor spoke with was calm and controlled, unrevealing of what he was seemingly feeling and the weight of it, yet Salin only felt the opposite.

  He turned deadly pale.

  "Your deeds have led to the death of a servant of the Empire, one of its holding Pillars, as well as the partial destruction of another's path." He gestured towards Elora whose head jolted as she sought to shrink herself. "Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

  "Your Majesty, may your name be forever exalted. I tell no lie when I say that I warned Lady Darkfang of the man when I was captured," he defended.

  Many would have hesitated at the leeway given, but Salin had been trained to take advantage of opportunities like this. This was likely the only chance he was going to be given to defend himself, and he would be damned if he let it go.

  The Emperor arched an eyebrow, turning calmly to regard Elora, who shifted with apparent nervousness.

  "Continue," he said to Salin.

  "I was given a warning to pass on to my superiors. He warned us to stay away from any of his interests and he would do the same." Salin didn't spare any details, exposing the truth that he was now sure Elora had failed to mention. "When I met with the Spirit lady and lord who came, I informed both of the warnings I was told to deliver, however, my warning was swiftly discarded and I was subsequently tortured afterwards."

  "Is that so?" The Emperor said, hardened eyes gazing at Elora. He wasn't the only one. The other Pillars in turn gazed at her, whispering amongst themselves while she visibly shook from all the attention.

  "Nevertheless, a response must be met, even if we were the ones who caused this due to sheer idiocy," he said, eyes now smoldering with anger. "We must reply, else our enemies see us as weak."

  The Emperor looked up to coolly regard the other Spirit lords in attendance, eyes glowing and voice hard.

  "Prepare yourselves, we go to battle.”