<h4>Chapter 658: Final Moments</h4>


    <strong><i>[Third Person].</i></strong>


    The news did not remain within the pce walls for long.


    By midday, it had already spread through the streets of Stormveil, carried by servants, guards, and officials who had witnessed the assembly. By evening, it had taken root in every corner of the city.


    Initially, there was disbelief. Then came the shock. And finally—disgust. The people now spoke of it openly.


    Wanda Fellowes, a noblewoman they had once respected, had attempted to taint the royal bloodline for her own gain. Worse still, she had been involved in an unspeakable rtionship with her own brother.


    The revtions stirred something deep within the people—not just outrage, but revulsion. But what angered them even more was Reginald.


    The man hade before them, spreading usations against the Queen, painting her as cruel and unjust—when in truth, it was his own household that had rotted from within.


    "He tried to deceive us."


    "He wanted to turn us against the throne."


    "Shameless."


    By the next morning, there was no sympathy left. Only judgment.


    ---


    The first day of the parade marked the beginning of their humiliation.


    Bound in chains, Reginald, Levi, and the other condemned male members of the Fellowes family were dragged through the main streets under heavy guard.


    The moment they appeared, the crowd surged forward, their anger unrestrained.


    Curses filled the air. Rotten fruits and scraps were hurled at them, followed by stones. Some spat openly, their faces twisted with disgust.


    "Look at them!"


    "This is what they truly are!"


    "Animals would be cleaner!"


    The insults cut deep, but it did not end there.


    Every morning, for seven days, they were paraded through the city. And with each passing day, the hostility only grew stronger. Whatever lingering doubt the people might have had vanishedpletely, reced by a collective fury that showed no mercy.


    Levi, who had once walked these same streets with pride, now kept his gaze lowered. The weight of the crowd’s hatred pressed heavily on him, each word striking harder than thest.


    Reginald, once a man of influence and authority, could no longer hold himself upright. His posture had crumbled under the relentless humiliation, his dignity stripped away piece by piece.


    No one pitied them. Not a single voice rose in their defense.


    By the seventh day, the people no longer came out of curiosity. They came to witness the end.


    ---


    Levi sat in his cell, the distant noise of the town barely reaching him now. The chaos of the past days had settled into a heavy silence, leaving him alone with his thoughts.


    Everything had unravelled too quickly.


    His mind reyed the moment in the hall, the usations, the looks of disgust, the finality in the King’s voice. He clenched his jaw, his fingers tightening slightly against the chains at his wrists.


    In the end, it was not the punishment that lingered most in his mind, but Meredith. Her calm expression and her unwavering voice. And the way she had exposed everything without hesitation.


    A bitter feeling rose in his chest.


    "She didn’t have to go that far..." His voice was low, almost lost in the silence.


    Whatever justification there had been, it no longer mattered to him. All he could see was the ruin left behind.


    His life.


    His name.


    His future.


    All gone.


    He leaned back slightly, exhaling slowly. "I won’t wish you well for this..."


    Meanwhile, in another cell, Reginald sat hunched forward, his entire body weighed down by exhaustion and grief.


    At first, his thoughts had been consumed by Wanda, then by the truth. And now, by everything he had lost.


    "My children..." he murmured, his voice trembling.


    The image of his daughter in that coffin refused to leave his mind. The reality of her actions shed violently with the father he had believed himself to be.


    Had he truly raised them this way?


    Had he failed sopletely?


    His hands trembled. Then slowly, that grief twisted into anger.


    "That woman..." he muttered, his expression darkening.


    From the very beginning, Meredith’s presence had unsettled him. From the first moment she appeared beside Draven, something had shifted, and he had taken it for granted.


    If he had acted quickly then... If he had removed her before she gained power...


    His breathing grew heavier. "I should have dealt with you sooner..."


    But regret came toote. It always did.


    ---


    By evening, the executions began. Levi was brought out first.


    The setting was controlled, far removed from the chaos of the streets. Guards stood at attention, their expressions unreadable as a cup of wine was presented to him.


    Levi looked at it for a moment, understanding clear in his eyes. A faint, hollow smile touched his lips.


    "So this is how it ends."


    Then, he took the cup without resistance. For a brief second, his hand paused, then he drank it in one motion, leaving nothing behind.


    The cup slipped from his fingers and fell to the ground. Moments passed, then his body stiffened.


    A subtle tremor ran through him before his strength gave outpletely. He copsed, his breathing faltering before going still.


    Just like that, it was over.


    The news reached Reginald swiftly. When he heard, he froze. For a moment, it was as if the words did not register. Then—


    "My son..." His voice broke.


    Thest of his strength crumbled as grief overtook him entirely. He bent forward, his body shaking as the reality sank in.


    Levi was gone. Thest pir he had left... gone.


    Not long after, the guards came for him. This time, he did not resist. There was nothing left to hold onto.


    He was dragged to the execution ground, where the people had already gathered. The crowd wasrger than before, their faces set with a grim determination. They had waited for this.


    The moment Reginald was brought forward, the murmurs rose again—low, heavy, filled with judgment.


    He was forced onto the marked ground. But the moment the guards stepped back, the first stone was thrown.


    It struck him hard enough to make him flinch, a sharp cry escaping his lips. Then another followed. And another.


    Soon, the air filled with movement as the crowd unleashed their anger. Stones came from every direction, carrying with them the fury of a people who had been deceived, insulted, and nearly turned against their own throne.


    "You lied to us!"


    "You tried to frame the Queen!"


    "This is your punishment!"


    Reginald staggered under the assault, his body recoiling with each impact. The pain came from all sides, relentless and unforgiving, leaving him no space to recover, no chance to escape.


    His cries grew weaker, and soon, his strength faded. Until eventually, there was nothing left.


    The stones stopped, and silence slowly settled over the crowd, the anger that had burned so fiercely now spent.


    No one stepped forward, and none spoke because in that moment, it was understood that justice had been delivered.


    And the name <i>Fellowes</i> would never rise again—only remain as a warning to those who would dare follow the same path.