Sun rode at the head of the Red Lion Guard, **Goldmane** padding silently beside his horse. The weight of the captain’s words pressed on him like a physical burden.
*Glide Leo.*
A bastard son of his father. A man with the same **red hair**, the same **golden eyes**, but none of the scars, none of the weight of a crown. And worse—he had already **sat on Sun’s throne**, demanded **Sun’s queen**, and called himself **king** in his absence.
Sun’s fingers tightened on the reins.
**"And Sixhonia?"** he asked, voice low.
The captain hesitated. **"She has held the court together, Your Majesty. But Glide’s faction grows bolder. They claim you abandoned the throne. That you are unfit."**
Sun exhaled through his nose.
*Because I did. Because I am.*
But he couldn’t say that. Not now.
**"And the Spineless?"**
The captain frowned. **"The… artifact? It remains in your chambers. But—"**
**"But?"**
**"Glide has been seen entering your private quarters. More than once."**
Sun’s blood ran cold.
-----
The sight that greeted them was **war**.
Hundreds of warriors—some loyal to Glide, others to the throne—stood in tense clusters outside the palace gates. The air was thick with the scent of oiled steel and unease.
Then—**the horns blew.**
A deep, resonant call from the Red Lion Guard, announcing the return of the **true king**.
Every head turned.
Silence fell like a blade.
Sun did not dismount. He did not smile. He simply **looked** at them—the way a lion looks at prey.
**"Scatter,"** he commanded, voice carrying across the courtyard. **"Or I will make you."**
For a heartbeat, no one moved.
Then—**the loyalists obeyed.**
But the **500 Red Lions** who had come with Glide did not. They stood firm, hands on their swords, eyes locked on Sun.
*They don’t fear me.*
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The realization sent a spike of panic through him. These were not men under the **Spineless Brain’s** control. These were warriors who had **chosen** Glide.
Sun didn’t hesitate. He turned to his captain and pressed the **Golden Lion Medallion** into his palm.
**"Mobilize the barracks."**
The captain’s eyes flashed. **"It will be done."**
As the captain rode off with an escort, Sun leaned down to **Goldmane**, murmuring, **"Call the pride."**
The great lion rumbled in understanding before vanishing into the shadows.
---
Sun strode through the palace like a storm, his shabby farmer’s clothes doing nothing to diminish the **fury** in his stride.
Servants gasped. Nobles stumbled back.
And then—**he saw them.**
The **Lion’s Mane children**, huddled together with the royal family. Their voices rose in a chorus—**"Sun!" "Your Majesty!" "Brother!"**
But he couldn’t stop. Not yet.
He had to **see it for himself.**
---
Sun’s chambers were exactly as he had left them.
And yet—**not.**
The air smelled wrong. The **Spineless Brain**, resting in under the blanket, had been **moved.**
Someone had **touched it.**
Sun’s hands shook as he approached, dread coiling in his gut.
He realised the person simply looked and the Spineless brain seemed intact, he breathed a sigh of relief at the back of his mind wondering if the Spineless had become his guarantee.
*Who would dare?*
Then—a voice from the doorway.
**"Ah. So the runaway king finally returns."**
Sun turned.
**Glide Leo** stood there, smirking, his red hair gleaming like fresh blood in the torchlight.
**"I was just getting comfortable in your place,"** he said, stepping inside. **"But don’t worry. I’ll let you watch as I take it all from you."**
Sun’s vision **reddened.**
**"You,"** he growled, **"will not live to see dawn."**
Glide laughed. **"We’ll see."**
Outside, the **war horns** began to blow.
The ground trembled.
**Four thousand five hundred soldiers** stood arrayed outside the palace, their armor glinting like a steel tide under the cold sun.
Banners snapped in the wind—crimson lions against gold, the mark of **Waltonia’s true king.** The air was thick with the scent of oiled leather and the metallic tang of drawn steel. War drums pounded like a thunderous heartbeat, their rhythm echoing off the palace walls. Horses stamped, their breath steaming in the morning chill.
Inside the throne room, chaos reigned.
Sun stood before **Glide Leo**, his expression unreadable. The pretender smirked, twirling his father’s horn—**the Horn of Roar**—between his fingers.
**"You hear that, brother?"** Glide taunted. **"That’s the sound of a *real* king."**
Sun exhaled through his nose. **"Seize him."**
The **Red Lion Guard** moved instantly.
But Glide was **no pampered prince.**
He fought like a warror—blades flashing, muscles coiled with trained precision. Two guards fell before his sword, a third stumbling back with a gash across his chest.
**"ENOUGH!"** Glide bellowed, raising the horn to his lips.
The sound that followed was **not human.**
It was the **roar of a lion king**, deep and resonant, shaking the very stones of the palace. Every soul in the room froze. Even Sun’s pulse stuttered.
*Damn it.*
Glide grinned, wild-eyed. **"I challenge you, Sun Leo! By the old ways—Lion’s Pride! Face me, or be branded a coward before your own people!"**
Sun closed his eyes for a brief moment.
*This again.*
He was **so tired** of being challenged.
Then—he **whistled.**
Two monstrous shapes burst from the shadows.
**Twin lions**, their golden eyes burning with fury, lunged at Glide. The pretender’s confidence shattered. He stumbled back, screaming for his guards.
But Sun was **done playing.**
In a blur of motion, he **unsheathed his sword.**
Sun moved like **liquid death.**
Every technique he had ever stolen—every warrior’s skill, every assassin’s trick—flowed through him.
Glide swung wildly. Sun **dodged without looking.**
A thrust toward his ribs—Sun **twisted**, his own blade flicking out, slicing the straps of Glide’s ornate breastplate. The metal clattered to the floor.
Another slash—Sun **parried**, then reversed his grip, the pommel of his sword smashing into Glide’s wrist. The pretender’s weapon fell with a clang.
Sun didn’t stop.
His blade became a silver blur—**slicing belts, severing clasps, parting fabric like paper.**
In seconds, Glide stood **stripped bare**—not just of armor, but of dignity. His fine silks pooled at his feet, leaving him in nothing but a linen undershirt, his face white with terror.
**"M-Mercy!"** Glide choked out, falling to his knees.
Sun pressed the tip of his sword under Glide’s chin.
**"You do not *deserve* mercy."**
Then—**the roaring began.**
---
The palace **shook.**
**Twenty-six adult male lions**, their golden manes bristling, stormed through the halls. **Goldmane** led them, his thunderous snarls sending servants and soldiers alike scrambling out of the way.
The royal family watched in **shock** as the beasts climbed the grand staircase, their massive paws silent on the marble. The lions moved with **purpose**—like soldiers answering a summons.
And then—they reached the throne room.
The doors burst open.
**A wall of fur, fangs, and fury** stood before the court.
Glide’s remaining warriors **paled.** One dropped his sword.
Goldmane padded forward, his gaze locked on Sun. Then—he **bowed.**
The other lions followed.
**Twenty-six kings of the wild, submitting to one man.**
Sun allowed himself a small, vicious smile.
*This* was the power he had cultivated.
*This* was the **true strength of Waltonia.**
---
Glide was **sobbing** now, his body trembling as the lions circled him.
**"P-Please! Brother! I—I was misled! I—"**
Sun crouched, gripping Glide’s hair and forcing him to meet his gaze.
**"You are *no* brother of mine."**
He stood, turning to the assembled court.
**"Let this be a lesson."** His voice cut through the silence like a blade. **"The Lion’s Pride does not suffer pretenders."**
A snap of his fingers.
The lions **roared**—a sound so deafening it rattled the chandeliers.
Glide screamed.
Sun walked away, already barking orders.
**"Lock him in the dungeons. Disperse the traitors. And someone—"** He glanced at the **Spineless Brain**, his lips curling. **"Find out who *touched* my things. Also strip his Red lion Guards of their service any who dare disobey kill them, also summon the Queen to my room"**
The guards **exploded into motion.**
And Sun?
He exhaled, rolling his shoulders.
*Finally.*
**Order.**
---
