The Omega Knight's Secret Baby Daddy is A PRINCE?!-Chapter 60: If Despair was Enough.

Tension hung thick in the air.

It was no longer subtle.

Razor and Guy stood with blades raised, eyes locked. The space between them felt charged, like a spark waiting for permission to ignite.

Kaelis and Ezra did not move.

But neither of them looked away.

"Razor," Kaelis said at last, his tone no longer amused. There was a warning in it now.

"Guy," Ezra said sharply, not raising his voice but hardening it, "whether or not the code allows it, you are standing before a prince."

Guy did not lower his sword.

Neither did Razor.

"You should listen to His Highness," Guy said lazily, tilting his head toward Kaelis while keeping his eyes on Razor. "Isn’t that your specialty?"

Razor’s nose scrunched faintly. Conflict flashed across his face. His grip tightened.

He glanced at Kaelis.

"Your Highness, they have drawn a blade against us."

"To be fair, you drew yours first," Kaelis replied coolly.

"But—"

"What is this scene so early in the morning?"

The voice cut cleanly through the tension.

Everything stopped.

Not just the blades.

The breathing.

The muttering.

Even Kaelis’s expression shifted.

Because everyone recognized that voice.

The voice of the king’s captain.

The most renowned knight in Luxaelis.

The man who oversaw not just one order, but all of them.

Aamon St. Clair-De la Cour.

Steel slid back into sheaths in unison.

Every knight straightened instantly.

Ezra’s body reacted before his thoughts did. He stepped back into proper formation and saluted.

’He’s here.’

The air felt different now.

Sharper.

Heavier.

Aamon stood at the forefront, posture relaxed, hands clasped behind his back. There was a faint smile on his face, but it was not warm.

It was assessing.

Behind him stood Helios.

Helios’s brows were drawn slightly together, gaze flicking between the two orders.

Confusion.

Concern.

Ezra kept his face neutral.

’Of all the times they had to appear,’ he thought grimly. ’It had to be now.’

Aamon’s eyes swept across them.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

"I asked a question," he said mildly. "What is this? Prince Kaelis, perhaps you want to answer? Or...oh."

His eyes landed on Ezra.

"Ezra Belloren."

Ezra felt his spine go rigid the moment Aamon said his name.

The sound of it carried weight. Not loud. Not harsh. Just enough.

’He’s choosing to single me out over Kaelis? Seriously?’

He stepped forward immediately, boots striking the ground at a measured pace. His hand remained at his side, posture perfect.

"Yes, Sir."

"Tell me what happened." It wasn’t a question.

It was an order.

He was about to explain.

But Kaelis spoke first.

"It was nothing," Kaelis said smoothly, stepping slightly forward as well. "Captain Ezra and I were having our usual banter. Razor misunderstood the tone and believed I was being disrespected."

There was the faintest emphasis on the word usual.

"Guy," Kaelis continued, glancing briefly at the Sentinel knight, "simply defended his captain in return."

The explanation was clean.

Simple.

Ezra kept his face blank, but Kaelis’ explanation bothered him.

’Why would he say that?’ he wondered. ’He could have just said the truth, but he made it seem like...’

Kaelis had made Razor look impulsive. Protective, yes. But impulsive.

It was also a rule for knights to know the information first before acting.

Aamon’s gaze shifted to Ezra.

"Is that accurate?"

Ezra did not hesitate though.

"Yes, Sir."

His voice was steady.

Neutral.

Inside, though, his thoughts were less composed.

’What are you playing at, Kaelis?’

Because Kaelis did not protect people out of kindness.

Not Ezra.

Aamon held his stare for a few seconds longer than comfortable.

Then he nodded once.

"Very well."

No lecture.

No reprimand.

Just that.

’He’s much calmer now than he was five years ago. Maybe that’s what aging does to a man.’

Ezra stepped back into place.

From the corner of his eye, he caught Helios watching him.

Helios’s expression was controlled, but his brows were faintly drawn. He knew.

’He knows that wasn’t the full truth,’ Ezra thought. ’Of course he does.’

Helios would’ve been well-aware of Kaelis and Ezra’s usual ’banters’ which were typically one-sided.

But Helios said nothing.

Aamon turned slightly, his presence alone enough to shift the air again.

"Formations, please, your highnesses."

That was all he said.

The princes didn’t need to speak, however.

Ninety knights moved as one.

Thirty from the Sunward Sentinels.

Thirty from the Goldflame Order.

Thirty from the Dawnward Bloom.

They arranged themselves into a square formation, each order forming one side. Movements are crisp. Boots striking in unison. Armor settling with quiet metallic clicks.

The princes stepped forward to the front of their respective lines.

Helios at the head of the Sunward Sentinels.

Kaelis before the Goldflame Order.

Aurien before the Dawnward Bloom.

Their captains took position just behind them.

Ezra moved to stand behind Helios, just slightly to his right. Close enough to hear him. Far enough to maintain rank.

Across the square, Razor stood behind Kaelis. His jaw was tight. His pride likely bruised.

Guy returned to position as well, though Ezra could feel the faint tension still lingering in his posture.

’This is going to be exhausting,’ Ezra thought quietly.

Not the battle.

Not the Dark Ones.

The politics.

Aamon stepped to the center of the square. His presence alone commanded stillness.

Helios did not turn around, but his voice carried just enough for Ezra to hear.

"Are you alright?"

Soft.

Low.

Ezra kept his eyes forward.

"Yes."

A pause.

Then, quieter still, almost swallowed by the wind, Helios added, "We will talk later."

Ezra’s jaw tightened faintly.

’About what?’ he wondered. ’Kaelis? The case? Or...us?’

He didn’t answer.

He didn’t need to.

Because Aamon’s voice rose, clear and commanding.

He then stepped forward, hands clasped behind his back.

"You all know why you are here."

His voice carried easily across the square. Calm. Controlled. The kind of voice that did not need to shout to be obeyed.

"There is a problem. A large one. The largest horde this kingdom has seen in recorded history."

A ripple of tension passed through the formation, subtle but present.

"They are gathering near the borders of the Miravale Dukedom. If left unchecked, they will spread. And once they spread, we will not be containing a horde. We will be fighting a plague."

Silence followed.

"All three orders stand here today for one purpose. To end this before it reaches the heart of Luxaelis."

Ezra kept his posture straight, eyes forward.

But his mind did not stay still.

’The largest in recorded history.’

He knew that already.

He also knew something else.

He knew how a horde like this could begin.

But knowing how it begins was different from understanding why it began now.

’How did it actually start?’ he wondered. ’Why did their clan head die? Why was he in despair when he died?’

A man turning into a Dark One after death was not unheard of.

It happened. Rarely. Usually under extreme circumstances. Unresolved hatred. Violent despair. Mana left to rot inside a corpse.

But a Clan Head?

Someone trained from childhood to master himself?

To regulate emotion. To meditate before sleep. To keep his heart steady even in defeat.

For a man like that to die and turn... and for his death to feel so heavy, so saturated with something dark—

That was not ordinary.

And it did not stop there.

An entire population following after him?

Grief could be powerful. It could break people.

But this?

Dozens.

Then hundreds.

Ezra’s thoughts tightened.

’How do that many people fall at once?’ he wondered.

Grief was not new to the world. Loss was not new. Wars had taken fathers. Illness had taken children.

Yet cities did not crumble into Dark Ones every time someone important died.

’If they knew they could turn if they surrendered to negative emotions,’ he thought grimly, ’why wouldn’t they fight it?’

Why wouldn’t they meditate? Isolate themselves? Seek priests? Seek healers?

Why wouldn’t someone stop the spiral?

Unless—

His jaw clenched faintly.

’Unless it wasn’t just grief.’

And more importantly—

’How is this not the biggest panic in the kingdom?’

How were they all so calm?

The only reason Ezra was calm is because he hasn’t seen it yet.

It’s been awhile.

Aamon continued speaking, outlining movements and positioning. Scouts on the perimeter. Defensive lines near the tents. Rotations. Reinforcements.

Logical.

Organized.

Measured.

But Ezra barely heard it.

’If humans can turn into Dark Ones just because of negative emotions...’ His jaw tightened slightly. ’Then why is there no mass investigation? No kingdom-wide inquiry?’

Fear. Grief. Anger. Those were not rare.

They were everywhere.

So why now?

Why here?

Why this many?

Dark Ones alone, their existence, the dead who can come back alive as monstrous beings with enough dark emotions, that alone was their kingdom’s mystery.

When it started.

When will it end?

If it will ever end?

It was horrifying. 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

And yet now it has become worse.

Everyone was treating it as a military inconvenience instead of a symptom of something deeper.

’Are we missing something?’ Ezra wondered. ’Or are we pretending not to see it?’

He forced himself to focus.

But Ezra had always wondered that.

The possibility that there was something bigger happening, and even then, there were bigger issues.

Alphas being able to use their pheromones to control it happened briefly, but Ezra still hasn’t forgotten.

Kidnapping of children for years.

And then this.

Aamon was now speaking about flanking patterns and signal calls.

"I will personally oversee the operation," Aamon stated. "No independent charges. No deviation from assigned positions. You will follow the command."

Ezra nodded faintly along with the others.

But his thoughts kept spiraling.

’If this continues... will we just keep cutting them down?’ he thought grimly. ’Until there’s no one left to cut? People are dying, so there’s more grief. Children are being kidnapped, there’s even more grief.’

His fingers curled slightly at his sides.

He had killed Dark Ones without hesitation.

He would again.

But the thought that they had once been human still lingered.

’If despair is enough... then how fragile are we?’

"Lastly," Aamon said.

Ezra blinked, refocusing.

"For this mission, formations will not remain within your respective orders."

A pause.

"You will be reassigned into mixed groups."

The words dropped like a stone into still water.

For a heartbeat, nothing happened.

Then the murmurs began.

"What?"

"Mixed?"

"What does that mean?"

Not loud enough to be open defiance. But loud enough to be heard.

Ezra felt his brows draw together.

Mixed groups?

’Is he stupid?’