Reincarnated as Duke’s Heir
Copyright© 2025 by TheSmartOne
Chapter 11: The 7 Seats
Six months later—
While chaos stirred across the empire, while shadows danced in the wake of unfolding events, one truth remained unchanged.
Nothing within the empire escaped the gaze of the empire itself.
Not when the shadows themselves bowed before the ones who ruled.
And when shadows bow ... secrets are revealed.
Imperial Capital – The Golden City
At the heart of the Sylvaris Empire stood The City of Gold—a beacon of power, wealth, and divinity.
And at its very core stood the Imperial Palace, an awe-inspiring fortress of white and gold.
It did not simply exist, it dominated.
Its divine brilliance pressed against the souls of all who laid eyes upon it.
Some knelt, trembling, unable to withstand its overwhelming majesty.
Others—fanatics of the imperial bloodline—bowed their heads in fervent worship, their eyes alight with devotion.
Yet among them, there were those who remained standing.
Those with iron will.
Those who did not kneel so easily.
But even they felt it.
The weight of the empire.
The silent warning in the very air.
Here, only gods ruled.
Or at least ... men who believed themselves to be.
...
Deep within the palace, in a chamber of obsidian and gold, a council was in session.
Seven figures sat around a circular table, their faceless masks reflecting the dim candlelight.
Each mask bore a single number, etched in cold gold.
One through Seven.
They were the Seven Seats of the Empire.
The true sovereigns who ruled from the shadows—alongside the Emperor.
And tonight, their attention was drawn to a single matter.
A disturbance.
A threat.
A name.
Ignis.
At the head of the table, Emperor Atticus Sylvaris sat in silence.
His golden eyes—sharp as the edge of a blade—glowed faintly beneath the dim light.
His presence alone was suffocating.
When he finally spoke, his voice carried the weight of the empire itself.
“I assume you have all received the reports regarding the heir of the Ignis family.”
A pause.
A silence heavy enough to crush.
Then, Seat One spoke.
A voice measured. Calm. But carrying something deeper.
Something old.
Something bitter.
“Yes. And I hope this time ... we will all be on the same page.”
His words were not simple agreement.
They carried history.
Because this wasn’t just about Lucas Ignis.
This wasn’t just about a five-year-old awakening his mana core without aid.
No.
This was about something far greater.
The Ignis family itself.
A house of madmen.
A house of monsters.
A house that once—almost burned the empire to the ground.
The room darkened.
The air grew cold.
Even now, the past cast a shadow over them.
Sixty years ago.
The empire had come closer to collapse than it would ever admit.
And the cause?
Eldric Ignis.
A name that still haunted the empire.
Seat One’s fingers curled into a fist.
“We cannot let history repeat itself.”
Because they all remembered.
The fire that froze flesh faster than ice.
The flames that healed wounds like divine miracles.
The crimson inferno that nearly consumed the throne itself.
And worst of all...
The black fire.
A flame that did not burn, but devoured.
A flame that seemed alive, as though something ancient and hungry lurked within it.
That day, the palace burned.
And standing before its scorched gates, atop a mountain of corpses, was a man with flames for eyes.
A man they called—
The Devil of Purgatory.
Eldric Ignis.
Behind him, his kin stood tall, their flames dancing wildly.
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