That Prince Is A Girl The Vicious King's Captive Slave Mate novel Chapter 355

Chapter 355
Many of you already know why we have gathered here today.”

Grand King Daemonikai stood at the center of the Court of Duty, hands clasped behind his back, face as hard as steel. “A week ago, we uncovered a truth that has shaken the very foundation of our kingdom, of our species. A betrayal, buried beneath centuries of ignorance and complacency, has come to light. One of our own—a grand ruler—committed the ultimate treachery. A sin so grave it has stained the legacy of our kind.”

The court was packed to its edges. Every tier of the vast amphitheater occupied. High Lords, lesser lords, clan chiefs, the eldest of their noble lines. None had dared to be absent. All eyes were on their grand king.

“Zaiper Thoryk Dragaxlov has disgraced this kingdom,” Daemonikai said, his voice unflinching, “He has tainted the Grand Throne and shamed the Dragaxlov name. His betrayal has cast dishonor upon his clan, upon the North, upon his people. And for his crimes, there shall be no refuge.”

His eyes met all corners of the assembly like a hammer striking stone. “The Oracle fell into a critical state before she could name all his accomplices. Even now, she fights for her life. But hear me and hear me well. Those who aided him in his heinous crimes—whether in the past or in the present—shall share his fate. They will be punished, and it will not be swift. It will not be merciful.”

Silence reigned like shadows at midnight.

His eyes burned with wrath, pressing into every soul in the room. “Any who dare keep silent should they see him, look away, feign ignorance, or let him slip through their fingers are no better than him, and they, too, will know a suffering worse than death. Zaiper Thoryk Dragaxlov is now a wanted male. As of this moment, a kingdom-wide manhunt has been declared. Wherever he is seen, he must be reported immediately.”

Many nodded their heads earnestly. Some murmured in agreement to one another.

“This decree will alter the course of our order,” Daemonikai went on. “But as it is written in our constitution, as it is decreed in the laws governing treason and crimes against the throne and our people, the Northern Clans will no longer hold the position of Rae’nille.”

Daemonikai glared at the Northern Clan chiefs and elders, daring opposition. “No clan that has birthed the greatest traitor of our kind shall stand as Second. The Northern Clans, ruled by the Dragaxlov bloodline, are hereby stripped of their former rank. From this day forward, they are no longer Rae’nille, but Foart’hile. The Western Clans, ruled by the Skyvakto bloodline, shall now rise to Second, and the Eastern Clans, under the Nocthrax family, shall ascend to Third.”

The northern delegation bowed their heads in sorrow and shame. Not a word was spoken.

Across the chamber, the Western and Eastern clans made no attempt to hide their satisfaction. They watched the fallen Northerners with open smugness—those who had long regarded all others as superior, prideful, and egoistic. On the dais, Grand Lord Vladya and Grand Lord Ottai watched their people in silence, without expression.

Daemonikai lifted his chin. “Are there any objections?”

“None, Your Majesty,” came the united reply. Voices from every tier answered, resolute.

Then, a throat cleared.

High Chief Yazaro, leader of the Northern Clans, rose. “Your Grace, we understand your decree and we accept your judgment.”

Daemonikai said nothing, waiting.

“But what will become of Zaiper Dragaxlov’s throne? He is the last of his bloodline. It cannot remain empty for long.”

“Perhaps this time, another family should take the throne,” the chief’s second added, rising too. “What Zaiper did was despicable. His name does not deserve to remain upon our throne any longer. I cast my vote that a new family ascend.”

There were nods. Murmured agreement.