(This chapter contains graphic descriptions of violence, including beheading and detailed depictions of blood. Reader discretion is advised. Please proceed with caution if you are sensitive to intense or explicit content.)

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The cobblestone streets of the capital were unusually empty. Usually, the early morning buzzed with the chatter of merchants setting up their stalls and the distant clang of blacksmiths at work. But today, the air had silence, a stark contrast to the vibrant market days that filled the city with life. Only the occasional echo of footsteps broke the stillness, as townsfolk hurried to their homes, eager to avoid the heavy presence that loomed over the castle walls.

Guards, dressed in their gleaming armor, lined the path to the execution square. Their eyes scanned the horizon, vigilant for any sign of disturbance. The crowd grew denser as people from all walks of life gathered, whispering in hushed tones about the fate of the three men. The murmurs grew louder as the procession approached, the thud of booted feet and the clank of chains a grim reminder of the day's purpose.

The condemned men were brought forth, their heads hanging low. Their faces were pale and sweaty, their eyes darting around the crowd in desperation. They knew that their end was near, and there would be no reprieve. Y/N, dressed in the colors of mourning, stood alongside the king, Jungkook. His eyes were fixed on the prisoners, his jaw tight, and his posture rigid. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on her, and she found it difficult to breathe.

The executioner, a tall, stoic man with a stern countenance, stepped forward. His movements were deliberate and precise, a dance of death he had performed countless times before. He took his place in front of the first prisoner, raising the sword high above his head. The blade caught the dim light, casting a cold, sharp reflection on the prisoner's face. The man's eyes grew wide with terror, and he began to shake uncontrollably.

"Do you have any last words?" Jungkook's voice cut through the silence, firm and unyielding.

The first prisoner's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water before a strangled plea for mercy escaped his lips. "Spare me, my lord," he rasped, "I have a wife and children!" His desperate words hung in the air, unanswered by the stoic faces of the crowd and the unflinching gaze of the king. Jungkook's expression remained unchanged, his eyes as cold as the steel blade gleaming in the executioner's hand.

The second man, slightly younger than the first, had a wild look in his eyes. Defiance flashed across his features as he spat out his words. "I wish for nothing but to take my vengeance with me!" he shouted, straining against his bonds. "You may end my life, but you will never conquer my spirit!" His voice was filled with a fiery passion that seemed to burn through the fog of dread that enveloped the square.

The third man, the youngest of the trio, looked around with a bewildered expression. His eyes searched the sea of faces, as if looking for a familiar one. Finally, his gaze rested on a young woman standing at the edge of the crowd, tears streaming down her face. His voice quivered as he spoke, "My love, I am sorry... I wish only that I could hold you one last time." The woman's sobs grew louder, and she collapsed into the arms of the person beside her. The crowd shifted uncomfortably, their own grief and anger mixing with the poignant scene before them.

Y/N felt a pang of sadness for the young woman's plight. She knew the love and fear that could drive a person to despair. The prisoner's words seemed to hang in the air for an eternity before the executioner took a step closer, the sword still poised above his head. Jungkook's gaze remained steadfast, his eyes never leaving the prisoner's face. "Your wish is not for me to grant," he said, his voice carrying the weight of his royal responsibility. "But know that your loved ones will be cared for, as is the duty of this kingdom to those affected by your crimes."

The third man's eyes grew glassy with unshed tears. He nodded, his voice barely a whisper. "Thank you, Your Highness." The crowd watched in a mix of sympathy and anger, understanding the sorrow that came with a life cut short, yet not forgetting the pain he had inflicted.

With a single nod from Jungkook, the executioner brought the sword down with a swift and precise motion. The blade sliced through the air, and the prisoner's head rolled away from his body, a crimson arc painting the stones below. A collective gasp rose from the onlookers, a sound of shock and relief, of justice served. Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the sight, her eyes flickering to the young woman in the crowd, who had gone eerily still, her cries silenced.

The executioner moved on to the second man, his previous bravado now replaced by trembling limbs and a gasping breath. He had no final words, only a silent plea in his eyes that no one could answer. The sword was raised once more, the cold steel a symbol of the king's judgment. As the blade descended, the prisoner's eyes remained locked on Jungkook's, filled with a burning hatred that not even death could extinguish. The second head fell, and the crowd murmured, a mix of satisfaction and dread at the fate that had just been dealt.

For the third man, the execution was almost a mercy. He had already accepted his fate, his last words a poignant reminder of the human cost of this day. The sword sliced through the air, and in a swift motion, the executioner completed his grim task. The head fell, and with it, the last vestiges of hope for the prisoner's loved ones. The young woman in the crowd wailed, her cries piercing the silence like a shattered heart. The crowd's tension released in a collective sigh, the air thick with the scent of iron and the metallic taste of blood.

As the executioner stepped back, a sudden rumble grew from the crowd. It began as a murmur, a whisper of admiration and respect for the king's unwavering justice. "Hail Jungkook!" the chant grew louder, gaining strength with each repetition. "Hail to the king who protects us!" The people's voices rose in unison, a wave of loyalty crashing against the castle walls. Y/N watched in amazement as the scene unfolded before her, the energy of the chant resonating within her.

Jungkook, however, remained stoic. He raised a hand to silence the crowd, his eyes never leaving the three headless bodies. "This day is not for celebration," he said solemnly, his voice carrying the same power that had quietened the condemned men's final pleas. "It is a day to remember the price of evil and the strength of our unity." The crowd fell silent, the echo of their chant hanging in the air. They bowed their heads in understanding, their expressions a mix of solemnity and reverence.

Y/N felt a shiver run down her spine as the chant of Jungkook's name had turned into a low murmur, and then a profound silence. She glanced around at the faces in the crowd, noticing the goosebumps that had risen on their arms and the seriousness etched into their features. Despite the horror of what had just transpired, there was a palpable sense of unity among them, a shared acknowledgment of the king's decisive action. She had never felt such a powerful energy before, and it was both humbling and unsettling.

Slowly, she turned her head to face Jungkook, expecting to find his gaze fixed on the grisly scene before them. But to her surprise, she found his eyes already on hers, a deep concern in their depths. He had read the turmoil in her eyes, the conflict of emotions that raged within her. The warmth of his gaze offered a silent reassurance, a gentle touch in the storm of her thoughts. It was as if he knew exactly what she was feeling, as if he understood the weight of the burden she carried.

"Justice has been served to you,"