### **The Temple of Dawn**
The air was thick with incense and greed.
When the orb flared to life, etching **"Unique"** into the air in molten-gold script, the nobles of the realm stopped breathing for three heartbeats.
Then the feeding frenzy began.
---
### **I. The Vultures Descend**
**Baronet Kelmire**—a man whose lands were smaller than most royal privies—was the first to break. He lunged forward, sweat staining his moth-eaten ermine. "My daughter is fifteen, fair as a summer morn, and—"
**Viscount Duskthorne's** cane shattered the baronet's knee with a *crack* that silenced the hall. "You insult this temple with your beggar's tongue," Damien hissed, his three spirit wolves materializing in a snarl of mist and fangs. The noble crumpled, weeping.
It didn't matter. The dam had broken.
**"House Laurent offers a generalship and ten thousand acres!"**
**"The Merchant's Guild bids seventy thousand crowns!"**
**"My sister's hand and a seat on the—"**
The High Priest's staff struck marble once. Twice. Thrice. No one listened.
Until **the doors blew open**.
---
### **II. The Old Lion Enters**
They said **Gerald Stormcutter** had retired to drink himself to death.
The man who strode through the doors wore no armor, just a faded surcoat bearing the Eclipse Order's shattered sun—the mark of an excommunicated Grand Marshal. His beard was cropped short, his posture loose, but the scar running from his left temple to jawline told its own story.
The crowd *rippled*.
"Enough screeching," Gerald said, biting into a chicken leg. Grease dripped onto the sacred tiles. "The boy's spoken for."
**Cardinal Valmont** (Church of Dawn) stepped forward, ivory robes hissing. "This is blasphemy. Uniques must be—"
**"—trained by the best?"** Gerald's smile showed white, even teeth. "Agreed. That's why he's *mine*."
A gasp. Even the **Princess Lysandra** (leaning against the Sun Throne's replica) arched a brow.
---
### **III. The Power Players Reveal Themselves**
**1. The Church's Gambit**
Cardinal Valmont unrolled a scroll sealed with solar wax. "By the **Edict of Eternal Light**, the Church claims custody of all—"
**2. The Princess's Move**
Lysandra's laugh was the sound of a dagger being unsheathed. "How *quaint*." She didn't rise from her throne-replica, just flicked a hand. Her **Knight-Interrogator** stepped forward, gauntlets dripping holy oil. "The Crown's right of appraisal supersedes *faith*."
**3. The Merchant Lords Strike**
**Lady Montegar** (head of the Gemstone Cartel) snapped her fingers. A servant rushed forward with a chest. When opened, it revealed not gold—but **dragonbone arrows**. "A gift," she purred. "For the *first* Beast Monarch in eighty years."
Gerald yawned.
---
### **IV. The Eclipse Order's Shadow Play**
No one noticed **the Marquise** until her dagger pricked Gerald's back.
"Hello, *Grand Marshal*," whispered the leader of the Eclipse Order, her breath smelling of grave dirt. "Still stealing our recruits?"
The hall froze. Gerald didn't turn. "Still sending toddlers to do your killing, Silvia?"
A standoff.
Then—
**The Second Butler of House Varton** cleared his throat. Every head swiveled to the gaunt man in gray. He said nothing. Just placed a single ledger on the floor, open to a page listing **the Bradford family's debts**.
Reginald Bradford's hand flew to *Frostbite*.
---
### **V. The Beast Monarch's Secret**
I finally spoke.
**"I'm not a weapon."**
The orb still glowed with my curse:
**Beast Monarch (Unique-Tier)**
*Path:* Slay → Absorb → Repeat
*Hidden Price:*
- 1 year to unlock a form
- 3 years to slay a greater beast
- Fail = madness
Gerald met my eyes. *Keep your mouth shut*, his gaze said.
Princess Lysandra rose, her silver-threaded gown pooling like liquid mercury. "A proposal," she murmured. "Let the boy *choose*."
Every faction leaned in.
---
### **VI. The Aftermath**
As we left, the whispers chased us:
- **Church:** "Prepare the **Sun's Judgment Trials**."
- **Eclipse Order:** "Recall the **Twilight Hunters**."
- **House Varton's Butler:** Writing in his ledger. Always writing.
Gerald tossed me a wineskin outside. "They'll send assassins first. Then bribes. Then marriage contracts." He grinned. "Try not to die before breakfast."
Somewhere, a clocktower chimed.
The game had begun.
---