The alliance with Reyna was a tentative thread holding Ezura together, but Eren knew it wouldn't take much for the city to unravel. His new "allies" carried their own ambitions, each one scheming beneath their polite masks, testing how much of his power they could undermine. To secure his grip, Eren needed more than alliances—he needed leverage.

---

In the dead of night, Eren made his way through the city to an old mage archive rumored to house secrets of the realm. Hidden behind layers of enchantments, the archive was nearly forgotten, a place of whispers and ancient power.

As he entered, the cold air prickled his skin. Rows of dusty tomes stretched before him, each one filled with knowledge kept from the common folk. But it wasn't just knowledge he sought—it was a weapon.

Moving carefully, he scanned the titles, his fingers grazing the spines of books on ancient curses, blood-bound pacts, and the rites of fallen gods. One book caught his eye: Oaths of Blood and Iron. He pulled it down, flipping through its brittle pages, each line revealing dark rituals and binding spells—magic that could compel loyalty beyond mere promises.

A shadow flickered at the edge of his vision, and he tensed, his hand hovering over the dagger at his side. But the shadow solidified, stepping into the dim light.

Renna.

"You think I wouldn't notice?" she asked, her tone sharp. "Slipping away to this place—what are you looking for, Eren?"

He met her gaze, unflinching. "Control."

Renna's eyes narrowed. "Control? Over who?"

"Everyone," he replied, his voice hard. "If I'm going to keep this city, I need more than alliances. I need assurance that none of them can turn on me."

Renna's expression was a mixture of surprise and alarm. "And you think binding magic is the answer? You'd trap them with spells instead of trust?"

Eren's voice was cold. "Trust isn't enough in Ezura. They need to fear me as much as they respect me. You of all people should understand that."

Renna held his gaze, conflicted. She took a step back, searching his face as if looking for the man she'd once believed in. "You're changing, Eren. I don't know if I can follow you down this path."

"Then don't," he replied sharply. "But don't stand in my way."

Her silence was answer enough, and she left him there, alone in the darkness, with nothing but the ancient knowledge of blood oaths to keep him company.

---

With the spells memorized and the plans set, Eren returned to Reyna. He proposed a new alliance, one bound by an oath—an ancient rite, he explained, "to secure our interests."

Reyna, ever suspicious, arched a brow. "An oath? You think I'm that naive?"

Eren's face was impassive. "It's a symbolic measure, to show mutual trust. But it's also binding. Break the oath, and the spell will turn against you."

Reyna's eyes glittered with a dangerous mix of curiosity and distrust. "And I assume you'd be bound as well?"

"Of course," he replied smoothly, though he had no intention of making the oath mutual. The spell he'd chosen was deceptive—only those who accepted it in full sincerity would be bound by its magic.

After a long silence, Reyna gave a cold nod. "Then let's seal this alliance, shall we?"

They performed the ritual in the heart of the city, under the cover of night, with the words echoing in the stone chamber. The oath was woven, binding Reyna to her pledge of loyalty. Eren felt a chill ripple through the air as the magic took hold.

But when he looked up, he saw something unexpected—a flash of defiance in Reyna's eyes, as if she'd known exactly what he was doing. Eren tensed, but she only gave him a slight, mocking smile before disappearing into the shadows, leaving him wondering just how much she truly understood.

---

Days later, word of rebellion filtered through the city. Azrael's loyalists had resurfaced, and they were rallying under a new leader—someone who claimed to be Azrael's son, determined to avenge his father's death and reclaim Ezura from Eren's grip.

The streets filled with whispers of this "Son of Shadows," a figure promising vengeance and liberation from Eren's rule. People began gathering in alleys, meeting in darkened taverns, speaking in hushed tones of uprising.

Eren sent Alaric and Renna to track down this figure, but information was scarce. Whoever this Son of Shadows was, he was careful, his identity hidden beneath layers of secrecy. For every rumor they chased, it seemed, two more sprouted up elsewhere in the city.

---

The tension was palpable. Eren's followers grew wary, sensing that Ezura was once again on the edge of conflict. The air buzzed with uncertainty, as if the city itself was holding its breath, waiting for the storm to break.

One night, Eren stood atop the city walls, looking out over the darkened streets. A city he'd fought so hard to conquer now seemed poised to turn against him. But he'd come too far, sacrificed too much, to let it all slip through his fingers.

In the distance, he could see torches flickering—a gathering of the Son of Shadows' supporters. They chanted, their voices rising into the night, a rallying cry of rebellion echoing through the city.

Eren clenched his fists, the cold stone biting into his palms.

This was no longer about liberation. It was about power.

And he would do whatever it took to keep it.

---