Vanished Sisters: The Lycan King's Slave Island Chapter 125

Fergus' POV

Gregor stood, his voice calm but carrying an edge of warning. "If we kill Mordred, we set a dangerous precedent. We establish that the Council can execute a sitting King—"

"The King is already dead!" someone shouted, cutting him off. "What sits in that den is just a monster wearing his corpse!"

"We're not executing a King," Sebastian said smoothly, his voice cutting through the chaos with practiced ease. "We're putting down a rabid animal that poses an existential threat to our people. There's a distinction, and every lord in this chamber knows it."

He turned to address the full assembly, his voice swelling with righteous conviction.

"For three centuries, we've lived under the shadow of this threat. For three centuries, we've sacrificed our people—our warriors, our servants, even our own blood—to feed and contain a creature that gives us nothing in return but the constant fear of another rampage."

The chamber fell silent, hanging on his every word.

"Some of you remember the last major outbreak, twenty-four years ago. Forty Lycans dead in a single night. Forty of our people, torn apart because we failed to adequately satisfy the Beast's hunger. How many more must die before we admit that this situation is unsustainable?"

Heads nodded throughout the chamber. I saw the fear in their eyes, the memories of that terrible night when Mordred had broken free and painted the halls red with Lycan blood.

"I call for a vote," Sebastian announced, his voice ringing with confidence. "All those in favor of issuing an official decree for the execution of the Beast, make it known."

Hands rose throughout the chamber like a forest of condemnation. I counted them with sinking dread—not just a majority, but an overwhelming supermajority. Nearly three-quarters of those present supported the measure. Sebastian hadn't just built a coalition; he'd created a landslide.

"All those opposed?"

My hand went up, along with Gregor's and perhaps five or six others—a pathetic handful against the tide of raised hands that surrounded us. We were utterly outnumbered, our opposition meaningless in the face of such overwhelming consensus.

Sebastian didn't even bother to count. The result was obvious to everyone in the chamber.

"The vote is clear," he declared, his voice carrying the weight of absolute victory. "The overwhelming majority has spoken. The decision is made."

He straightened, his voice taking on the formal cadence of official proclamation, and I realized with cold certainty that he'd prepared this speech long before today's session, so confident had he been of the outcome.

"By overwhelming vote of this assembled Council, let it be decreed: the creature known as the Beast—formerly King Mordred—is hereby sentenced to execution. The sentence shall be carried out at a time and manner to be determined by military command, prioritizing the safety of our forces and the security of our people."

The chamber erupted in applause and shouts of approval. I stood frozen, watching Sebastian accept congratulations from his supporters, watching lords who'd served under Mordred three centuries ago now celebrate the decree for his execution.

"Let it be recorded in the official minutes," Sebastian continued, his voice rising above the celebration, "and proclaimed throughout all territories of the Obsidian Reefs: the execution decree has been issued. The Council has spoken with one voice. The Beast will be eliminated, and our people will finally be free of this decades-old threat."

More applause, more celebration. Sebastian raised his hand for silence, and the chamber gradually quieted.

"Preparations will begin immediately. Lord Commander Aldric will assemble our strongest warriors. Master Forgewright will craft weapons specifically designed for the task. We will coordinate the attack to ensure maximum effectiveness and minimal casualties to our forces."

He paused, his purple eyes sweeping across the chamber before landing on me with unmistakable triumph.

"The decree is issued. The matter is settled. The Beast's reign of terror ends now."

The finality in his voice was absolute. This wasn't a proposal open to further debate.

This wasn't a decision that could be revisited or reconsidered. The vote had been taken, the decree issued, and the machinery of execution was already being set in motion.

I stood frozen as the session dissolved, watching lords and officials file out, already making plans for a future without the King. Some clapped Sebastian on the shoulder, others engaged in animated discussions about the logistics of the execution. The atmosphere was almost festive, as though they were planning a celebration rather than a regicide.

Gregor remained at my side, his expression grim. "He outmaneuvered us completely," he said quietly. "All those weeks of travel, all those private meetings—he was building an unassailable coalition. By the time we realized what he was doing, it was already too late."

"I know," I said, my voice hollow.

"The decree is issued, Fergus. Once they finalize the execution plan, there will be no stopping it. Not legally, anyway."

The implication hung in the air between us. The only way to stop this now would be through force, through open rebellion against a lawful Council decree—an act of treason that would likely result in my own execution alongside Mordred's.

"I'm sorry," Gregor said, genuine sympathy in his voice. "I know what he meant to you. What he still means."

He clasped my shoulder briefly, then left, leaving me alone in the emptying chamber.

I stood there long after everyone else had gone, staring at the throne that had sat vacant for decades, listening to the echo of Sebastian's words reverberating through the stone halls.

The countdown had begun.