Edward knelt on the execution platform, the heavy steel of the executioner's axe lying beside him.
One look at it, and he could tell how deadly sharp it was, knowing that his fate was sealed the moment the axe reached his neck.
The crowd's murmur was a distant hum compared to the deafening roar of his own anxiety. Although it was the middle of the night, excited shouts echoed through the air.
'They really want me dead, huh? Guess to them, I'm no more than a traitor.'
Edward felt a deep sadness as he watched the very people his father had told him to lead, now turned against him, eager to see him executed. He lifted his head and looked directly at the end of the execution ground.
A throne had been built there, where the king would sit and order the execution.
The crowd waited, anticipation rising in their hearts. They wanted to see the traitor's head fall to the ground. Even the children were present, eager to watch the spectacle, for this was not a sight they saw every day.
When Richard III finally arrived and sat on the throne, the crowd instantly fell silent. The chancellor, now the personal edict bearer of the King, stepped forward. A soldier at his side brought a golden scroll, which the chancellor opened and began to read.
"After careful investigation, conclusive evidence has been found that Edward conspired against the late King Edward IV, killing him in an attempt to usurp the throne. As such, he will be beheaded and set as an example to all other traitors. The kingdom of England will not tolerate treachery."
Closing the golden scroll, he turned and bowed to the king.
"Your Highness, your loyal subjects await your decree."
"Slash!" The single word carried a sense of authority as it spread through the entire execution ground.
"We obey the decree," the executioner and soldiers responded in unison.
The executioner readied himself, feeling the weight of the axe in his hands. This was not his first time. With the movement of a trained professional, he lifted the axe, the heavy steel hovering above Edward. But before he could bring it down, a sharp whistle pierced through the air.
An arrow flew by at lightning speed, hitting the executioner right in the head. Before any of the other soldiers could react, several more arrows followed, killing all of them in one shot. In a matter of seconds, six soldiers fell dead, and silence spread across the entire execution ground.
A moment later, chaos broke loose as people started running towards their homes in search of cover. Mothers quickly lifted their children, fleeing before any arrow could hit them. Within the crowd, hooded figures clad in black appeared, swiftly approaching the execution platform where Edward was. It was clear that he was their target.
From his throne, Richard III let out a cold snort. He had anticipated this attempt and had made his own preparations.
"Suppress," he ordered.
As his voice echoed, hooded figures clad in purple appeared around him. Without hesitation, some split off to fight the men in black, while the others went directly for Edward. The battle was intense. Heads kept flying as the men in black, clearly skilled, dispatched any soldier around them before they could even comprehend what was happening. But with the addition of the king's men in purple, the black-clad figures were clearly outnumbered, putting them in a tough spot.
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The other men who had gone for Edward quickly reached him, drawing their blades for the kill. But before they could strike, a firewall suddenly erupted around Edward. The men in purple tried to retaliate, but two of them were caught in the fire, turning them to ash. Before the others could retreat, the firewall exploded, engulfing the entire execution platform. The men in purple burned to death, and broken splinters flew out, killing many other soldiers who were about to come to help.
Everyone was too stunned to continue the fight. As the smoke started to clear, a figure slowly walked out. The small build of the figure was clearly visible—it was Edward.
Edward emerged from the smoke, surveying his handiwork. The casualties were about 20, not counting the heavily injured. He lifted his head and locked eyes with Richard III, a grin spreading across his face. But before anything could be done, a hooded figure appeared behind Edward, lifting him up and fleeing through the smoke that had not yet fully dissipated.
As Richard III watched them leave, remembering the grin his nephew had given him, it was as if Edward was saying he had won. But the bad news didn't stop there. A heavily injured soldier, stationed at the bell tower, quickly arrived.
His arm was badly mangled, and he had only one eye left.
"Your Highness, the tower has been invaded. The traitor has escaped," the soldier reported.
Richard III felt a wave of extreme anger rising within him, but he quickly suppressed it.
'Is that how you want to play it? Fine then.'
"Listen to my orders. Deploy all the royal guards and make sure nothing enters or leaves the imperial capital," Richard III commanded.
As the order was given, the soldiers quickly spread out. Richard III then rose from his throne, starting to make hand seals, causing his entire person to glow blue.
…
In an alley not far from the execution ground, hooded figures quickly appeared, approaching a door with caution. Their vigilance was heightened, ready to deem any sound as either a potential danger or a fluke.
Upon reaching the door, the leader of the hooded figures knocked in a specific sequence. They waited briefly before being ushered in by another hooded figure. Once inside, they seemed to relax a bit, although they remained on high alert.
One of the hooded figures was carrying something on his back—Edward. He quickly let Edward down.
"Thank you," Edward said, moving into the house with great familiarity. He reached the living room, where someone sat with a worried expression.
When this person saw Edward enter, relief washed over his face.
"About damn time you arrived."
"Hey, that's no way to greet your brother after he almost died," Edward replied with a smirk.
"If you don't want to be greeted like that, then don't worry me so much. I really thought you were a goner."
"Don't go killing me off just yet," Edward said, and they both laughed.
The easiest part of their plan was done; now came the hardest part: escaping the capital. Although they had considered all possibilities, there were still many variables at play.
This plan was first conceived when Edward approached his mother two days before the coronation ceremony. They knew something was going to be attempted, but without knowing the details, they had to ensure the plan was feasible in almost all situations. They had utilized their father's personal army, who answered only to him and not to the kingdom—they were the No-Names.
The rest was improvised according to the situation, like making Rick escape first. Edward had used his magic to create a hole in the tower's wall, allowing Rick to escape after his return from the royal court. One of the No-Names then replaced Rick to create a false trail for the soldiers to follow.
As for Edward he had been secretly killing small animals to gain enough soul power, setting up a trap in his study was for the same purpose. Since anyone who died by his hand could have their soul used as fuel, killing the two soldiers gave him enough soul energy to set up the spell at the execution ground, which he then sustained by consuming the souls of those he killed.
Which finally brought them to this point in time. They now had to think of a way to execute the second part of the plan. As fugitives, they needed to find a place to lay low and plan their next move. Moreover, they still had to rescue their sister.
The two boys had solemn expressions as they each considered the next course of action. Unless someone had seen it with their own eyes, it would be impossible to guess that these two brothers were only 14 and 15 years old.
Time passed slowly. After half an hour, someone else entered the room. All the No-Names in the room immediately knelt on one knee.
"My Lady," they said in unison