The Bloodthirst Queen smirked as the ratcatcher ripped the front of his shirt open. Many a mortal had fallen for her ethereal charm and supreme beauty. Thus, her latest meal's eagerness only served to amuse the red monarch even further.
Yet, her smile soon fell, replaced by some dazed look utterly unbefitting a queen.
Strapped on the ratcatcher's chest, a rectangular device stared at its victim. The man chuckled mirthlessly, like a hunter looking at his latest prey.
"Checkmate."
((( đ )))
â"You knave! What are you trying toâ"
"Tell all your daughters to stand down. Now."
Crane watched in shock as the ratcatcher completely changed his tune. Gone were the goofiness and jovial naivety. In their place, cold indifference now dominated, sending chills down one's spine.
"Everyone⌠Stay where you areâŚ"
Gasps resounded across the grand chamber. Crane and other children watched on as all vampiresses gritted their fangs in rage, yet couldn't even move an inch against their mother's wishes. The absolute obedience the Queen forced upon each and every one of her creations had become their ultimate downfall!
"He's controlling her. He's controlling the Bloodthirst QueenâŚ"
Someone murmured, though the crowd itself remained transfixed. Everyone stared at the man, a simple question on their mind.
Did they dare to hope?
As if hearing their thoughtsâtheir burning desire and desperate prayerâthe man spoke up. His voice was calm, almost unfeeling. Yet⌠to Crane, to every prisoner of this hellish place, the words felt like true salvation from heaven itself.
"You've done a good job, enduring this long." The ratcatcher turned toward them, before tilting his head with a smile. "It's all over now. This nightmare has finally come to an end."
With that, the dam broke. Sobbing cheers deafened the room as kids of all ages let out the tears they had long held back. Some hugged their crying friends, others fell onto both knees, but all knew a simple truth: the freedom they had long given up on was finally here.
Crane stood still, dazed. While boys and girls moved to help Raven and Pigeon, as well as other wounded thralls⌠While young children tried to wake their parentsâthe "favored" onesâfrom their brainwashed state⌠While a hundred different activities were being carried out across the room⌠Crane remained standing, his mind repeating one simple truth, over and over.
I'm free⌠I'm⌠I'm truly freeâŚ!
He didn't cry. He didn't celebrate. Everything that happened next was a blur to the young boy's mind, and throughout it all, he couldn't stop looking at the manâtheir savior.
"Don't worry. There will be several high-ranking parties of adventurers making their way down here soon. Everyone will get teleported directly out of this place and brought to the church to get your markings cleansed."
His words of assurance calmed even the most worried kids, especially those who feared that the trip up might be too much for those critically injured.
"Look into this and answer me truthfully."
His control over the bloodthirsty beasts all but confirmed his identity, yet the questions he asked felt surprising all the same.
"Why do you hunt people?
"Do you feel bad for killing your victims?
"If you get a second chance, what will you do to redeem yourself?"
Crane blinked, finally regaining his focus. Much like him, many freed thralls were eavesdropping on their savior's interrogation, and more than a few couldn't help but stare at the rectangular object he now held.
A divine artifact, marking him as the Goddess's summoned hero, no doubtâŚ
The realization left Crane awestruck. Unfortunately, his astonished smile soon turned into a frown once haughty laughter echoed.
"We're the apex predators of this world. It's our birthright to feast upon those lesser."
"Why would the lion pity the life of some lamb? The weak should feel honored as they get to nourish their superiors!"
"Redeem myself? What have I ever done that needs redeeming?"
Unable to lie, the bloodthirsty monsters laid their thoughts bare. A wave of wrath surged within Crane. His hands clenched into fists, and he could tell that all other boys and girlsâthose tormented for so long by these beastsâwere feeling the same anger.
Their savior looked at them, at the desire for vengeance on their faces. There was no need for words. He simply nodded.
"All of you, go up to the city above and make your way toward the nearest church. You will impale yourself upon the stakes set up there, and you will not resist as priests banish your soul. Get to it."
Sounds of screams, threats, begging, and resignation echoed throughout the sewer as countless vampiresses began their trek, not unlike death row inmates marching toward the gallows. Crane watched the parade with a vindictive smile, though he couldn't help but raise an eyebrow when their savior spoke up, stopping two individuals in their tracks.
"Wait. The queen and the youngest, I have a question for you both."
The newborn named Elly, created not long ago just to be an instrument of murder, moved alongside the Bloodthirst Queen. They stood at attention, looking at the bane of their existence with fearâwhich soon turned into puzzlement upon hearing his next words.
"Young one⌠If, and this is an if, but had you grown up alongside human peers, experiencing all the joys and sorrows a normal kid might have⌠Would you be able to overcome the urge that craves for blood? Or at least, would you feel bad whenever hurting a sentient soul? Would their screams of pain and dying words mean anything to you?"
The hunter of beasts showed no sign of joking. Despite his calmness, his cold indifference, the question he asked was genuine⌠And naked truth, disappointing as expected, was all he received.
"Impossible. Blood to us is air to mortals. Any famished kindred of mine is but a starving ghoul, destined to snap and perish in a bloody carnage," came the red monarch's scoff.
"Why would I care about the feelings of my food?" replied an innocent child.
The savior took a long look at them both, especially the little vampiress, before letting out a heavy sigh.
"Go. Join your kin and face your destiny. We have nothing more to talk about."
Crane watched as the last bloodthirsty beasts departed, freeing everyone from the reminder of their monstrous reign. His heart soared at the distant sound of their footsteps, as if the horror he had long been forced to endure was finally fading away.
The chamber fell into a comfortable silence. Moans and groans of the wounded still resounded, though hope now bloomed on everyone's face. That, and deep gratitude mixed with bubbling anticipation.
Everyone stared at the savior. All wanted to thank him, to show their undying appreciation for what he did. Yet, none was brave enough to even approach this living myth.
None, bar the old adventurer and his two wards.
"Thank you." The grizzled man gave a curt nod, then bowed on one knee, lowering himself before his savior. "From the bottom of my heart⌠Thank you! On my honor as a hedge knight, an adventurer, and a teacher, this is a debt that I shall never forget!"
Crane found himself holding his breath. He, and so many other kids, were now witnesses to a scene straight out of the storybook. A sense of wonder filled his heart with childlike glee. The mythical fables of summoned heroes from faraway landsâsomething he had long given up onânever seemed as real as this very moment.
"Are you⌠Are you truly him?" the noble boy spoke up, licking both lips nervously as the savior tilted his head at him. "The Hangman⌠Our father said that you are a wicked villain⌠but⌠it was really cool of you, saving us all like that!"
"We'll keep your secret, Mr. Hangman!" his sister chimed in, her eyes sparkling with unabashed adoration. "On our honor as great nobles, me, my big bro, and our teach swear to keep everything we saw top secret! You can count on us!"
The Hangman seemed to regard their words for a moment. Then, he nodded slowly, a small smile forming on his lips.
"I'm sure you will," their savior whispered coolly. He raised his right hand up, while his left held out the rectangular artifact for all to see. "After all, once I snap my fingersâŚÂ None of you will remember what happened this day."
Crane could barely comprehend the words before a snapping sound echoed, and everything went blank.
His last thought was a desperate wish, much like everyone else, as memories of their savior faded away like soap bubbles bursting in the air.
((( đ )))
âThe chamber grew quiet, as if a blanket of silence had covered it. None moved, nor stirred, even as several groups of adventurers marched into the once-putrid lair and gasped at what they found.
"A horde of vampiresses passing us by without any resistance⌠Now, this⌠Do you thinkâ"
"Guys! Look!"
Someone pointed at the crumbled palanquin floating on a bloody pool, where a ravenous monarch once resided. Nothing remained in that terrible place. None, save for two small, yet chilling objects.
"A queen chess piece. And this parchmentâŚÂ Gluttony."
"He was hereâŚ" An adventurer gulped, glancing left and right in a panic. "The Hangman was hereâŚ"
"Let's get these poor folks to the surface first. The guildmaster can handle the rest."
A whisper floated in the air, and while it was unclear who said it, no one could disagree with the statement.
Thus, everyone soon teleported away with the dazed survivors. No one saw the speaker, who urged them to leave, who was standing right in the middle of the room the entire time.
None, except a small boy.
"Well, this is quite the surprise."
The Hangman mused, his eyes engaging in a staring contest with Crane's. It didn't take long before the latter blinked, then turned his head away nervously.
"You still remember, don't you?" There was no response, for there was no need to. "You can still perceive and be perceived by the world, just not its participants. You could have spoken up when the adventurers got here, and especially when they began to leave⌠Yet, you didn't. Why?"
The boy swallowed hard. His eyes started looking anywhere but his savior's. Yet, tried as he might, Crane could only speak the truth of his heart.
"If I had said anything aloud⌠It might have gotten you into trouble. After everything you did for us⌠I⌠I just couldn't."
A pregnant pause lingered between the two, before finally, a question was asked.
"What's your name, young man?"
"CraneâŚ" the boy spoke up with a sigh. "But it's not my real name. I⌠don't remember my own name, and I have a feeling that even if I get this mark on my neck cleansed, I still won't be able to remember itâŚ"
"I see."
Somehow, Crane couldn't help but feel that there was a twinkle in his savior's eyesâfleeting as it might be. Yet, it was what he heard next that truly shook his entire being.
"Well then, would you like to traverse the world with me in search of your name? A quest, if you will."
"Are⌠Are you serious?" Crane stuttered, his heart hammering in his chest. "Alright, I guess I don't have much of a choice, soâ"
"We all have a choice. If you think that I'll make your life difficult just to silence you, then rest assured that it won't happen," the Hangman interrupted, a stern expressionâalmost contortedâreplacing his indifferent smile. "I've pulled enough strings to ensure that the victims of this terror will get the help they need. You can go with your friends who share the same fate you've been through. You can overcome the trauma together and look forward to the future by each other's side."
The Hangman paused, as if weighing his words, and Crane couldn't help but feel that this was the first time his savior truly looked at him.
"You don't need to go with me if that's not what you want. You deserve to live your own life, far away from all the blood and madness my path is riddled withâŚ"
A rectangular artifact got held up once more, though Crane was quicker this time.
"No, I want this! I can feel it in my bones!" he all but shouted, surprising even his savior. "Let me follow you. Let me find my name, my purpose in this world. Please!"
Another silence ensued.
Another bout of stares commenced.
In the end, however, it wasn't Crane who blinked first.
"⌠Very well. If that is indeed your wish, then let's not tally any longer, my young friend."
Crane blinked, his mind feeling puzzled at the sad look on his savior's faceâwhich faded as soon as it appeared. The Hangman turned around, quietly walking toward the chamber's entrance, causing Crane to move after him in a hurry.
"Wait! I⌠How should I address you?" Crane stammered out, and the amused look on his savior's face only made the boy more fluttered. "If⌠If you want to be called 'Mr. Hangman' or 'my lord,' I'm completely fine with thatâ"
"It's Ayden."
The simple reply caught Crane off guard. For a moment, his mind seemed to freeze, and the boy's ears almost didn't catch the unmistakable warmth in his newfound companion's words.
"My name is Ayden, and I hope to one day know your name as well, Crane."
Both shared a look as an understanding bloomed within them. Then, wordlessly, they walked together, toward the world above where adventures and dangers awaited.
A new chapter of their life had just begun. Whether it might end in triumph or tears, none could know⌠and both simply wouldn't have it any other way.Last edited: Mar 27, 2026 Like ReplyReport Reactions:Seek212., Gajoti, BigBoss and 156 othersquestionablequestionerOct 14, 2025Add bookmarkView discussionThreadmarks 1.2 Salt and Breadcrumbs View contentquestionablequestionerextremely questionable isekai dealerJan 26, 2026Add bookmark#18
- Nero Frisperous Dracoheart, Eldest of the Imperial Brood, He Who Shan't Rule -
â
Even from afar, the imperial palace was just as Nero remembered: grand, imposing, and utterly uncaring of his existence.
The monstrosity of a structure loomed above all, casting a dark shadow over the giant estate underneath. On the ground, glowing magic circles full of mystical glyphs worked day and night, isolating the world within through their mighty barrier, as well as ensuring that the behemoth flying overhead would teleport directly onto them if worst came to worst.
A wonder of this world and the culmination of magical engineering, as some might claim. Nero dearly hoped whoever dumb enough to utter such words were simply being a sycophant, for the empire was truly fucked if people genuinely thought this grandstanding was anything other than vain and wasteful.
He tried not to frown as another group of servants huddled together, pointing and whispering his way. The same scene always seemed to repeat itself whenever Nero's carriage was spotted, trundling along the massive courtyard's jeweled path. The distinct lack of ornaments adorning his rideâlet alone expensive enchantments that Nero could only dream ofâmust have been a dead giveaway. That, or seeing the pegasi pulling this rickety box would have done the trick.
All other carriages, from lowly aristocrats' to high nobles', had long become horseless, after all.
"For tradition's sake, and the similarities you share with this derelict antique, eldest brother."
The bitter memory ground to a halt as his carriage stopped in front of a great gate. Two imperial guards, clad in dazzling gemstones and lavish artifacts, nodded at his approach. It was a show of respect. The same one reserved for nobles and visitors invited to the greatest seat of power across this soaring empire.
A nod. That was the only acknowledgement he would ever get. Small, tiny nods, and never a bow, never true reverenceâŚ
"Greetings and salutations, Prince Nero," an old valet spoke up, jolting Nero out of his musing. "Welcome back to the imperial palace, Your Grace."
"Always a pleasure to be invited to my ancestral home." Nero smiled through gritted teeth, stepping down from the carriage and dusting off his worn attire. Already, his hand went through the usual motions. A silver brooch, small enough to be inconspicuous, was presented to the gatekeeper, though it was this recipient himself who denied his "gift," much to the prince's surprise.
"Ah, that⌠won't be necessary, Your Grace. Time is of the essence, and His Imperial Majesty wishes for your presence within the grand chamber as soon as possible."
Nero raised an eyebrow, putting the bribe back inside his pocket. The valet's gaze lingered on the fading silver with a bit of greed and regret, before coughing into his hand, motioning for the guards to open the way forward.
A dizzying sensation warped the air around them, synchronizing the barrier ahead with the visitor's magic signature. Yet, before Nero could get back onto his carriage, the sound of something being torn openedâand the terrible goose bumps that always accompanied itâhalted his step.
He glanced back. As expected, several slashes in the airâstill visible to the naked eyeâhad turned into a swirling gate. The imperial guards flanked it from both sides, looking wordlessly at Nero, their weapons flickering with a mystifying glow. Black and white, just like the teleportation portal they just opened.
The valet wasn't joking when he said that time was of the essence, it seemed.
With a frown, the prince stepped forth, leaving his pegasi behind and letting himself be swallowed by the distorting currents. Hopefully, whatever lay ahead wouldn't bring as much of a headache.
((( đ )))
â
"Please follow me, Your Grace. Everyone is awaiting your arrival."
His piece said, the escort turned around and briskly walked ahead. Nero bit back a curse, trying to move his wobbling feet. The imperial guards around him did nothing to help, just like the archmage assigned to the magic circle he just teleported out of. Bastards, the thought came unbidden, especially when nearby servants didn't even hide their amusement at his plight.
Dazzling treasures, masterful paintings, marvelous sculptures, and countless other fanciful knickknacks didn't even register in Nero's mind as he strode past them. It was the same old sight, really. A symbol of riches and power, of absolute dominance that certain someones always loved to rub in his face.
Nero frowned at the thought. His mood further worsened upon seeing a massive mural that overtook an entire corridor.
Down below both walls, everyone bowed and knelt. Peasants and nobles, warriors and mages, knights and merchants, species of all kinds⌠All were looking up, toward the ceiling overhead, where the image of an ancient dragon soared above all.
"The Imperial Truth⌠What a joke," he chuckled darkly, though the humor soon faded from his tone.
Atop the great dragon stood a human, mighty and domineering. The only man in history who managed to tame the feared Mother of Dragons and bed her. The once-conqueror of these realms. The first hero summoned from another world.
The very First Emperor Himself.
His gaze, looking down on all those underneath, seemed to pierce into Nero at that very moment. It felt as if the emperor of the past was judging his descendant, and had found him wantingâŚ
Unconsciously, Nero lowered both eyes, fixing his gaze on the cold and chilling floor. A cough from the escort motivated him to quicken his steps, and it didn't take long before the prince made his way out of the corridor, leaving behind the suffocating image of a legendâas well as the height that he could never reach.
"We're here, Your Grace."
Up ahead, just beyond the hall dedicated to glories of the past, a humble, discreet room tugged itself in a corner. The morning sun could barely reach this part of the palace, owing to the lack of windows and a need for secrecy. Yet, the stony rows of sentinels standing guard, as well as unruly warriors from allied kingdoms, had long given away just who this room had come to host.
A small click resounded as his escort unsealed the hidden pattern on the doorknob with a fingertip, and another second was all it took before the empty storage within turned into a swirling gateway.
The prince looked at the door gap that had been openedâsmall enough to barely squeeze through. He couldn't help but wonder if this was done to make sure the rowdy dwarves and elves couldn't sneak their way into the conclave uninvited, or simply to make his life in particular a bit more difficult. The escort's impatient cough, and the slightest hint of a smirk on his mug, suggested that it was both.
Typical. The emperor would reward this lackey with generous praises and brooches later, no doubt.
With a sigh, Nero moved past bickering dwarves and elves as he made his way forward, into the grand chamber housing dark secrecies and even deadlier conspiracies.
((( đ )))
â
Having braced himself this time, the distorting headache no longer caught Nero by surprise. Still, glittering stones and their ominous glow, providing the dark sanctum with its only source of light, certainly dimmed the prince's mood.
That, and the youthful figure in frilly dress who turned to greet him.
"Eldest brother! It's been too long!" the Eye spoke up, her melodic tune scattered across the unending void around them. "Come. I've saved a seat just for you!"
The warm greeting made Nero pause with a flinch. A chill crept up his spine. The only times someone from the Imperial Family was ever glad to see him was when they wanted to mock him⌠or to get something from himâŚ
He searched his half sister's eyes for any hint of deception. A small tilt of the head answered his query. Unknowing onlookers might have found the act innocent or even charming. Yet, all Nero could register was the way two pupils slowly turned into slits, while a toothy grin sharpened on his youngest sibling's face.
Her gaze bore down on him. Its pressure immense. Its aura domineering⌠Nero blinked once, before realizing that he had already found his way into the empty chair next to the Eyeâjust as she commanded.
"⌠You could have just asked nicely, Lya," Nero forced out the words with shaky breaths, his mind spinning. The Eye, however, simply giggled into her hand, uncaring of the glare she received.
"Aww, but you're the only person in our family I can use this on. Claw, Scale, and Maw would have beaten me up if I even tried, while Wing is⌠Well, Father and Wing have become quite irritable latelyâŚ" The Eye shuddered, her finger absentmindedly playing with a crimson lock of hair. Sadly, whatever self-reflection she just had didn't last long, and that cheshire grinâpromising naught but wickednessâonce again marred her juvenile face. "Anyway~ what's a little prank between siblings? You used to help me get away with worse, remember? All our fun little quests and adventures, rampaging through the palace. Hahh, why did the good times have to end?"
You selling me out might have something to do with it, Nero thought bitterly. He stared at his half sister, someone who he once considered a partner in crime. Yet, there was no trace of guilt or even a shred of remorse on her face, just like that day she got him kicked out of this palaceâŚ
Deep inside Nero, the lingering hope that there was still a common bond between themâwho were considered the "trash" of the Imperial Broodâslowly withered. A quiet cough caught the prince's attention, and he was reminded that there were others sitting at the table.
"It has been a while, Prince Nero." The slender druidess smiled at him, pristine antlers dipping forward slightly as she offered a small bow of the head.
"Lady Y'ereqâŚ" Nero stuttered. He had only met the elven kingdom's divine avatar a few times in the past, and even now she still looked as eerie as ever. Clumped green hair cascading like a river of roots, while the hollow skull of a mighty beast rested atop her head, deerlike in nature, yet possessing sharp fangs that stank with the stench of gore. Worse still, a dreadful aura seemed to linger in two empty eye sockets, and a glimpse alone was enough to fill the prince with a primal urge to flee from this danger.
Yet, Nero remained rooted, for his eyes found it difficult to look away from her beauty.
A body without flaws, borderline on perfection, radiating fineness and mystique with every breath it took⌠Elves were renowned for the sublimeness of their forms, capable of charming mortals of all ages and genders, and the prince was now victim of two piercing orbs that pinned his entire being in place, while a fleshy tongue slowly dragged itself across a pair of plump lips, as if tasting the nervousness of a flustered prey.
Nero forced himself to look down. It was a big mistake. His muddled mind had forgotten a crucial detail, and his eyes now found themselves lost amid tiny leaves that barely counted for clothes, before being trapped in the voluptuousness of a bosom that would make any nun scream in outrageâŚ
A sharp sting on his lower leg snapped the prince out of his trance, and it took all the willpower Nero possessed not to yelp in pain. He turned to the right, glaring at his half sister who whistled innocently, one leg crossed over another with a loose high heel dangling on its end.
"Careful there, laddie. Nevar a good idea to let yer guard down, 'specially when a nasty hag like 'tis one is prowling."
The gravel voice directed Nero's attention back to the last occupant at the long table. Directly across from him, a stony dwarf sat in grim silence, both arms crossed over his chest. This great elderâonce obscured by the room's dark shadowsânow glowed menacingly as red-hot runes ignited across his rippling muscles in response to the druidess's murderous glare.
Despite being towered over by the elf right next to him, the runesmith remained unperturbed. As if in challenge, he simply flicked his clean-shaven head toward the druidess, causing an impressive gray beard which spanned the entire length of his body to sway lightly, numerous golden beads decorating its many ends jiggling in the air.
Nero broke out in a cold sweat as the tension between these ancient rivals swiftly reached a boiling point. Two of the most powerful beings across the continent, possessing a presence that went beyond suffocating. Once their auras finally made themselves known to the naked eye, even the obsidian table crafted from the sturdiest of materials began to crack. A clash seemed imminentânot helped by what had happened at the beginning of the warâand as a burning axe and frosty bow manifested in each emissary's hand, Nero could only close his eyes as he braced for impact.
"Elder S`geir. Lady Y'ereq. Need I remind you what would happen if you break the Dragon's Peace?"
A singsong voice cut through the tension, though the speaker herself sported a toothy grin, as if daring both dwarf and elf to continue their folly. The Eye's pupils had turned into slits once more, aura flaring, draconic eyes bearing down on the "honored guests," who were soon cowed into submission, slumping back into their seats with a shiver.
Despite not being the victim of his sibling's gaze, Nero still couldn't help but gasp for air. At the back of his mind, a terrifying memory clawed its way to the front once more: The gigantic beasts surrounding him on all sides. The bloodcurdling screams of monsters he was made to bait into a trap. The dying cries of fearsome titans falling prey to a draconic gaze, as their heart attacks worsened until everything popped, until only Nero's thundering heartbeats remained amid a field of corpses⌠All while his half sister looked down from her perch, grinning at the carnage with gleeâŚ
"Any more and our guests might not make it, Lya," Nero whispered weakly, his limbs shakingâthough not as much as the pair of paling dwarf and elf.
"Ohh fine. This was starting to get tiresome anyway~" the Eye sighed in her usual, overly dramatic tone. As the pressure from her gaze dissipated, everyone in the room could breathe easy once more, yet Nero couldn't help but grow weary when his half sister tilted her head to the side, before her lips widened into another grin. "Hmm, it seems the others are finally done with their boring talk. 'Bout time, I'd say."
As if on cue, the surrounding void seemed to waver, not unlike dark ocean waves undulating onto themselves. The upper half of the long table distorted as several shapeless shadows took form, and soon enough, three empty seats got filled by dreadful figures in red.
((( đ )))
â
"Well well, would you look at that. If it isn't our dear 'eldest,'" Claw spoke up first, wasting no time to take a jab at his favourite punching bag. Smashing a worn leather boot onto the table and leaning back in his chair, the spiky-haired redhead loudly scraped a sharp fingernail across his fangs as he glanced toward the other arrivals. "Remind me why he's here again?"
"Enough, Lance. No time for childish tomfoolery," Scale chastised his twin with a deep rumble, earning him a glare from the latterâwhich might have been more effective had the crimson inquisitor not been a head taller than his foulmouthed sibling. "Eldest brother, it's good you're here. Your aid, paramount for what's to come."
A sharp nod caused the adamantine armor which covered Scale from head to toe to rattle, as if expecting a reply. Nero, unfortunately, remained in a daze at the odd speech he just heard.
This might be the first time he doesn't talk down to me⌠or ever been this nice⌠Just what are they planning?
Having collected himself, the prince turned to address his siblings, who either wore an expression of amusement or barely held disgust. "⌠My thanks for the vote of confidence, Aegis. Still, why exactly was I invited for this conclave? Being summoned to the home I was forbidden from ever returning to without so much as an explanation has left me quite puzzled. Perhaps someone can finally shed some light on this?"
"Time is money, Nero." A golden coin was flipped into the air, its ringing sound echoed across the void, before dropping back onto a gloved palm without so much as a thud. "Instead of squandering ours further, keep quiet and just be glad that you'll finally be of use."
Maw hadn't changed a bit, just like the cold contempt she always showed Nero whenever the two had to interact. With short hair, a hanging monocle, and an attire more fitting for a copper-counting merchant than an imperial, the second eldest of the Imperial Brood still looked as aloof as she had always been. Crossing one pant leg over another, she regarded the prince's query with the usual indifference, not bothering to even look his way, as if merely acknowledging the latter's existence was an affront to her.
A retort almost left his tongue, biting and incensed. Yet, before Nero could even utter a single word, one simple glance from Mawâcausing the monstrosity of a bevor that covered her lower jaw to rattleâwas enough to shut his mouth tight.
The dull phantom pain spasmed violently, just like memories of when he had to take the blame for Eye's mischievous deeds. Unlike Claw and Scale, who would only give him a black eye whenever they wanted to show Nero the "error of his way," what Maw drilled into him was far less merciful. The scorch mark lining up his spineâburning eternally like hellfire that no magic could ever hope to extinguishâstill served as a painful reminder of thatâŚ
All because I will never be their equal⌠Nero the Dracoheart, for the "heart" of a dragon is all I have to my name⌠What a jokeâŚ
A hot drop of tear threatened to spill, held back only by burning spite and an iron will.
Nero looked around the long table surrounded by his half siblings. Red of hair, just like his own. Draconic blood, just like what flowed inside his veins. All were younger than him. Yet, while they could sit proudly in their perch, taking the draconian powers of old for granted, he had to beg for scraps, for any morsel left behindâŚ
Life wasn't fair.
Then, as if confirming that statement, the embodiment of unfairness made his entrance.
"Now now, Fiamme. We can't afford to fight among ourselves, especially when a villain most vile roams our fair empire."
Maw bristled at the reprimand, though she was smart enough to mask her glare. Everyoneâeven the gasping pair of elf and dwarfâswiftly stood up before glittering silk even shimmered in the darkness. Atop the long table, a golden throne began to glow once leisurely footsteps drew near, not unlike magical wisps of stage lights illuminating a peacock as he strutted his way into the center of attention.
Draped in the finest garments enchanted to the brim, with a leather-bound tome floating nearby on strings of mana, the ruler smiled at his waiting subjects, content to let them squirm just a bit longer. Then, at the first sign of impatience, the emperor spread both arms wide, reminding everyone why he and he alone was the master of this empire.
A pair of lofty wings burst forth, soaring to their lengths, stretching far enough that they cast a shadow on the long tableâas well as all those underneath.
Nero gritted his teeth. The sight, grand and leathery, looked almost fragile. Yet, without those flimsy wings, their empire would have long perished. Thus, it was two draconic wings that were now the symbol of hope across this dying world; the emblem of the Imperial Family; the adornment atop Emperor Alexander's very crown.
Fresh waves of envy clouded the prince as the emperor's taunting gaze landed upon him.
Neither the eldest nor the youngest. Not the strongest, and definitely not the most dangerous. Yet, Alexander the Dracowing could ascend the throne, not by any effort of his own, but simply due to the Gift he got. He was at the top of the world only thanks to dumb luck, while Nero was kicked to the very bottom, just because his blood lacked the divinity his half siblings' mother could provide.
Life wasn't fairâŚ
"Brothers. Sisters. Friends of old," Emperor Alexander started, pointedly ignoring the two emissaries' pale complexion. As the ruler took his seat, his lesser subjects followed suit. "A grave evil has graced our world. This villain presents a threat never before seen, leaving his marks of destruction in even the most sacred of havens."
Nero raised an eyebrow at that last part. His intuition doubted that the emperor was simply referring to what had happened at the Church of Light's headquarters. As suspected, a quick glance confirmed that the pair of elf and dwarf now sat at attention, their rage barely masked.
The Hangman's bloody deeds at Everglades and Moltendepths might prove more than baseless rumors, it seemed.
Satisfied that he had everyone's attention, the emperor continued, though this time, there was a sharp edge to his tune.
"We must stand united against this danger. We must put aside old grudges, or we are doomed to fall, one by one." The statement was final, leaving no room for argument. Nero was taken aback, especially upon seeing the grim faces of those at the upper half of the table.
Whatever private discussion they had before this, it wasn't simple. The Eye's previous passing comment came to mind. Nero had thought his siblings were just being their usual, pompous selves, making those "lesser" wait as a power play. Now however, he couldn't help but frown as a thick tension enveloped the room.
"Emperor Alexander, what news so dire could you have possibly received, to even ask this of us?" Lady Y'ereq spoke up, asking the burning question of everyone in the dark.
"I think it might be best that you receive answers from the messenger himself, my lady," the emperor replied, though he also pointedly added a warning for the two emissaries, "I only ask that you refrain from breaking the Dragon's Peace, hard as it will be."
A loud snap of the fingers resounded, cutting off any follow-up question to the ominous words. Within the dark void, something resonated. A new arrival slowly took shape, walking toward the long table. Yet, instead of the usual footsteps, it was the sound of hooves which now echoed.
Nero stared, mouth agape. There was no denying the identity of the bloodred monster, whose curved horns and wicked appearance served no purpose other than being a mockery of the human form.
"VOLCAN'S BLASTED BEARD!!! WHAT IS A DEMON DOING IN THIS PLACE?!!"
Elder S`geir bellowed, smashing a fist onto the table. The runesmith looked murderous, and Nero couldn't help but swallow as waves of bloodlust suffocated the very air.
"Use your brain for once, stonehead," Lady Y'ereq snapped, despite looking just as incensed. Before the dwarven elder could direct his wrath toward her, the druidess spat, "We all know who's next on the Hangman's chopping block. This demon being here practically spells out what's happened."
Rage gave way to realization, before shock and horror struck the mind of Elder S`geir and Nero both.
"The avatar of Y'a'Roq is correct, I fear," the demon chimed in, its pitch-black mouth emitting soundless echoes that assaulted one's very mind, causing migraines and headaches to run rampant. Nero cursed, though his head went blank at the horrifying revelation. "The Hangman has assassinated the Demon King."
((( đ )))
â
A chilling silence descended, cold as the grave. Faces of disbelief, of grim acceptance, of uncertainty dominated the occupants all around the long table. For a while, no one could even mutter the courage to speak up, as if dreading the answer to whatever question they might ask.
Nero swallowed his breaths, which had never seemed so difficult. A hand clutched at the chest, as if afraid the rapidly beating heart within would flee from fear alone. The prince could feel shivers running down his spine, and he almost jumped in fright when a sultry chortle tore the stillness asunder.
"Truly an unexpected development, no? The song and dance we're all so used to have certainly changed their tune~"
At the table's very center, a distortion seemed to waver where the unexpected voice originated from. Nero blinked as a crystal orb unveiled itself. A small, swirling vortex of black and white could be spotted within the device, which hovered up and down in the air, oozing purple flows of mystical energies in waves.
Invisibility magic! his mind realized. How long has it been there? And those inscriptions⌠There is only one person capable of enchanting such marvels.
"And here I thought you couldn't join us for this conclave, Lady Abigail," Emperor Alexander chuckled, though there was a hint of irritation in his tone. Given how Maw was openly glaring at the flying orb, Nero could only suspect that the self-proclaimed "Sorceress Queen" had snuck her device into the sanctum without any care for imperial permission.
"You jest, Your Imperial Majesty. Even if I can't arrive in person, there's no way I will miss out on this!" the orb exclaimed, before tittering nervously as Maw's scowl intensified, "Uhm⌠Can you ask Fiamme not to roast me so soon? I swear that I have a good reason for interrupting. Like, horseless-carriage-level of good! You all like how that one turned out, right? EepâŚ!!!"
"Peace, sister dearest. Let us hear what our eccentric inventor has to say first."
The emperor held out a hand toward Maw, whose draconic flames had already burst forth and strangled the orb in a chokehold. With an annoyed grunt, Maw recalled her hellfire then swallowed it back inside, leaving the floating globe molten and its user complaining.
"Bloody hell! I was so certain that O.R.B. 2.0 was fully magic-proofedâŚ" Abigail grumbled from beyond the teleportation portal within her orb, voice choking. "You even managed to crack through my encrypted magic lock as well⌠Ugh, this dress is rental, and it's just ashes now⌠Thanks a lot, Cousin."
"Get to the point, Abigail. My patience has its limit."
At Maw's unsubtle threat, Abigail nervously floated her orb away from the smouldering draco and into the air above. A clapping sound could be heard as wisps of purple particles coalesced, causing magical illusions to slowly come to life.
"What's this? Some cheap magician's show?" Claw snorted at the scene, before clamping his mouth shut at the grim images on display.
Rows upon rows of wooden crosses dotted a desolated plain. Upon them, countless demons shared the same fate, their arms wrapped limply around both sides of the crucifix. From lowly grunts to reviled hellspawns, none were spared, none escaped the gruesome end which gave that slaughter field its dreadful name.
"Scarecrow's DescentâŚ" someone whispered, awe and horror lacing each word "⌠The place where that villain first appearedâŚ"
"Correct," Abigail chirped from above, her cheerful tone a sharp contrast against the macabre backdrop. "An elite demonic horde, vanquished through mysterious means. It was the empire soldiersâcaptured by said army as prisoners of warâwho fled back to us and brought news of this happening. Yet, even they didn't know what truly happened."
"A question for the ages, no doubt. I still feel the chill whenever seeing this work of art, though I'm sure some of my kin would disagree."
Overlapping echoes assaulted his senses, causing Nero to jolt in surprise. He had completely forgotten about the demonic messenger, who had made itself comfortable in the seat to his left since who-knows-when. The elf and dwarf duo shot murderous daggers at the beast with their eyes, though the demon simply ignored them as new illusions replaced the sight of bloodshed.
"Not to look a gift pegasus in the mouth, the empire swiftly sent scouts to verify this news. Then, once it got confirmed, counterattacks were in place. The main armies charging now-vulnerable demonic strongholds faced stiff resistance, though nothing unexpected. It's what happened to our raiding parties that I found⌠interesting."
Another scene of carnage was shown. Numerous heavily armed figures were piled into a heap, lifeless. Yet, while repulsed by this sight, Nero couldn't help but find himself uncaring of the victims' brutal fate.
"Lance, dear, you're most familiar with these types of folks. Care to enlighten us on their identity?" Abigail asked, as if everyone at the table hadn't already known.
"Don't you dare lump my brothers and sisters in arms with that bunch of honorless curs!" Claw roared in anger, sharp fangs showing. "Even the worst adventurer is still thousands of times better than a soulless, money-grubbing merc!"
"Somehow, I find that quite doubtful," Maw briskly commented, uncaring of the growls from her brother. "Abigail, what's the point of this? If you insist on wasting our time with yesterday's news, then it's best that you show yourself the exit at once."
"Tsk tsk. Always the dragon who misses the signs of a dragonslayer. Or layer, given our empire's origin." The orb jerked up as a torrent of blazing flames almost snapped it in half. "Anyway, what happened is obvious. All the cutthroats and sellswords tasked with raiding demonic territoriesâespecially areas belonging to weak beastman tribes under the Demon King's protectionâwere hunted down without mercy. What usually goes unsaid in polite company is how these mercs were sanctioned to capture enemy noncombatants for various 'uses.' Have you seen the pattern?"
"We all know most summoned heroes have a penchant for misguided 'heroism,' Lady Abigail," Emperor Alexander cut in with a sigh. "Yet you yourself seem to have forgotten the Hangman's wanton string of murders, let alone what he did to the elves and dwarves. Such vile actsâagainst members of the higher races no lessâcan't be tolerated. Even someone championed by the Goddess Herself is not above the sacred laws of our realms."
"Of course, of course. One's own code of honor is a nasty thing, and has so often led to an early grave. The many summoned heroes who met their end in 'unfortunate accidents' and had their divine artifacts enriching the Dragon's Hoard would certainly agree, I'm sure~" Abigail crooned, making no effort to hide her sarcasm. Nero could only blanch at the audacity, and it spoke volumes of the sorceress's influence when the emperor did not order her execution right then and there.
Instead, what Alexander said was a simple, yet no less shocking conclusion.
"You have found a way to hunt the hunterâŚ" the draconian ruler mused, a small grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "How intriguing. Very well then, continue with your preamble. I know how much you mystics love to hear yourself talk."
((( đ )))
â
"Earlier last year, just a few months after the war started, rumors abounded of a mysterious villain, hunting and killing troops from both sides of the conflict. As casualties mounted, the Wings of Haven and the Infernal Pact began to take what they considered hearsays more seriously, resulting in large warbands being deployed in favor of small raiding parties.
"These forces were regularly monitored by either long-range communication magic or constant messengers, ensuring swift reinforcements if the unknown figure struck. Soon, only some stray soldiers got picked off here and there, before even that stopped happening. Everyone believed the problem dealt with, and the war resumed in intensity.
"However, what happened next was something no one could have expected. Something that gave the mysterious villain his dreadful moniker, 'Hangman.'"
Nero frowned, averting his eyes as another set of chilling images materialized. He had heard the rumors, of course. Demonic archdukes meeting their end inside impenetrable fortresses. Infamous warlords falling into a trance before taking off to places unknown. These terrible figures, known for countless brutal and depraved acts, managed to sway the tide of war on their own. In the end however, they all shared the same fate, the same outcome.
Human or demon, it didn't matter. All were left hanging, not unlike puppets on strings, swaying lifelessly to the windâŚ
Yet, while the scenes were beyond grim, it was two calling cards left behind that truly inspired terror.
"A wooden chess piece, and one of the seven deadly sins written on a piece of parchment. It became abundantly clear that the Hangman wasn't just killing randomly. He was sending a message, passing 'judgment' on those at the top to deter others from committing the same 'crime.'"
He was playing god, Nero could almost hear Abigail's unsaid accusation. The sorceress paused, her orb flickering slightly, before another round of lecturing filled the void.
"6 types of chess pieces. 7 sins in total. Over time, a pattern emerged, forming a rotation as straightforward as it was terrifying." Sounds of gritting teeth and uneasy fidgets spread across the table, especially from those who knew their turn was fast approaching. "Now, this might be a delicate matter, but the folks targeted by the Hangman during his latest spree of homicides can provide an excellent example of how this villain picks his mark, and the 'justification' for the ensuing murder."
"ThusâŚ" Abigail purred, as if taking great delight in whatever chaos she was about to unleash "⌠we need to talk about the first casualty of this war. The free city, once full of hopes and dreams, named 'Budding Haven.'"
Those whispered words felt like an ill wind, heralding a boiling wrath assailed by cold fury. Every breath became a struggle once volcanic rage clashed against icy ire, leaving Nero stranded amid this madness. The prince desperately clung to consciousness as two ancient auras continued to explode in intensity, all while his dwindling strength scrambled to survive the catastrophic fallout.
"Ah ah ah, don't pass out just yet." A soft hand steadied the prince's shoulder, sending waves of warmth to reinforce his overwhelmed aura reserve. "It's not everyday we get to see a good drama, after all~"
The Eye's comment felt like a fresh bucket of oil for the fiery clash across the table. Both elf and dwarf, once pale from her oppressive gaze, now glowed like two cataclysmic forces of nature. With power drawn directly from their wells of ancient magic, the duo was burst to the brim, raring to annihilate the hated nemesis, consequences be damned.
And for what?
Vengeance? Pride? Honor?
What a load of garbage.
"Great avatar! Esteemed elder! The past is in the past! Losing yourself to blind rage won't bring anyone back!!!" Nero screamed his lungs out, desperate to be heard, "Think about the future of your people! Think about the dying pools of mana you're wasting right this moment, and the terrible losses to our world if any more of Her ancient children were to vanish forevermore!!!"
Blood rushed to the prince's head, blanking his mind. Everything became a blur of movements. The world seemed to spinâor was it his restless legs? Screams, shouts, and laughter surrounded Nero, refusing to let him pass, before even they got left behind, jeering at his foolish endeavor.
By the time Nero blinked, he already found himself gasping for air, standing smack-dab in the middle of an opposing duo. The prince's hands remained outstretched toward both, and he didn't dare lower them until the weapon in each emissaries' hand began to vanish, their suffocating auras dissipating.
Weary sighs resounded, heavy and exhausted, before the dwarven elder returned to his seat. He glanced back at the prince, his gaze an ocean of pity and reminiscence. Nero didn't know what to think of it, and his mind barely registered a soft "thank you" from the druidess as she lumbered toward her own chair.
On his way back, Nero didn't miss the judging eyes of others at the table. Most looked amused, some irritated, yet none held even a hint of appreciation. They were more than happy with watching their allies drag each other down in mutual destruction, just because it would be "entertaining." Damn them allâŚ
"Welp. Didn't think you have it in you, eldest brother," the Eye mused with a tinkling tone. "Though next time you try to get yourself killed, maybe give me a heads-up first, 'kay? Seeing you clambering across the table like some madman was so much of a shock that I didn't even manage to bring out the popcorn, you know~"
Nero blinked, staring at his half sister. Was that⌠actual concern in her voice? He couldn't dwell on the thought for long, as Abigail's orb soon piped up once again.
"One step forward and two steps back, indeed. Just like the subject at hand!" New illusions filled the air, heedless of the forlorn look from the dwarven elder or the druidess's gritted teeth. "Only someone living under a rock wouldn't know about the utopia once called 'Budding Haven,' so I'll keep this brief. Around two decades ago, after our late empress consort defeated the Demon Kingâ"
Nero's tired mind zoned out the old history lesson that he'd had the displeasure of living through.
"This can be the first step to fix our world. A haven where all species can live in peace and harmony!"
Thinking back, the person uttering such idealistic words was truly an idiot. Not of this world, yet wanting to save it. Blessed with powers, yet showing mercy whenever possible. Someone who believed the best in others. Someone who was naught but a fool, blind to countless daggers hiding in the dark.
And stillâŚ
Nero opened his eyes, glaring at what could only be described as a fantasy. Not so far away from a giant oak that reached toward the heavens, elves, dwarves, humans, even demons⌠all were living side by side, without any care for the ancient feuds that had divided them since time immemorial. All united under her dream, naively thinking that a new worldâreigned by peace and not bloodshedâwas possible.
Yet⌠Perhaps Nero was the most foolish of them all, for even now, a part of him still wanted to believe in that hero he once adoredâŚ
Sadly, like any daydream, the illusion soon faded, and nothing but cruel reality remained.
Abigail didn't shy away from showing the Days of Broken Oaths in all their gory details. Orcs teleported through bloodred portals directly into the city, their brutal strength surpassed only by dark deeds that defiled all that was sacred. Elven folks fled back to their glades, passing through arcane barriers brimming with power. Yet, humans, dwarves, even the few demon refugees following along⌠All were denied entrance. All were slaughtered as the green tide swallowed them whole, while the elves looked down from their giant oak, refusing to even march beyond the safety of their bordersâŚ
((( đ )))
â
"ânumber of elves was just a hundred at most, but the amount of humans alone easily reached thousands! If we had left the barriers open for all those refuges, the orcs would have been able to take advantage and invade, or even capture some of our own! Can you imagine what would have happened if they managed to get their filthy hands on an elf? Their hideous hides already nullified the might of magic, but to have elven mana augmenting their dark broods? We had no other choice! We had to sacrifice the few to save the many!!!"
"YER DID IT TO SAVE YERSELVES!!! We were fools to entrust so many of our youths to yer kind! We shoulda known better, shoulda learned an elf's word meant shite by now⌠Yet, the naive greenbeards convinced us, convinced me, to give yer a chance, despite all the backstabbing yer knife-ears are known for! And look where that got 'em! Stabbed in the back!!! My own kin lay dead at yer blasted barriers⌠Even now, I still remember her parting words, waving me and her ma goodbye, waving our warnings aside⌠If us graybeards can't seek justice for our own blood, then what even is our honor for?!"
Another round of argument erupted from the emissaries, as was expected. A heavy sigh left Nero's lips, though thankfully, Abigail decided to step in before weapons could be drawn again.
"I assume you are close to making your point, Lady Abigail. Forcing our poor allies to relive such a tragic event would feel cruel otherwise," Emperor Alexander mused, as if he himself hadn't been hiding an amused grin at the bickering on display like it was some sick entertainment.
"Of course, Your Imperial Majesty!" the sorceress piped up, moving her orb away after it had given the elf and dwarf duo a controlled shock. "Please pay attention, everyone. For those unaware, orcs were created by the Demon King with the sole purpose of being an all-consuming swarm, specifically designed to wipe out all living beings outside the Demon Continent."
A slight pause commenced as several people glared at the demon in the room, who simply shrugged with a punchable smirk.
"Orcs are infamous for their super strength, endurance, growth, as well as an uncanny ability to resist magic. Yet, it's their means of reproduction that truly strikes fear into the heart of those fighting such beasts." Abigail's tone wavered slightly, as if even her academic mind couldn't help but abhor the topic. "'When captured by an orc, death at one's own hand is preferable, for a fate far worse than hell awaits the living.' This saying is widespread among soldiers at the front line, and for good reason."
"Those seized from orcish raids have less than 1% survival rate. Male prisoners or fresh meat scavenged from the battlefield are instantly devoured by the green tide as sustenance due to the orcs' extreme metabolism. Female captives, however, are not as fortunateâŚ
"Whatever dark magic the Demon King used to create these beasts, it had also granted them the vilest Gift imaginable: the ability to rapidly reproduce with females of any sapient species. A conception forced by the orcs would result in massive fast-growing broods inside the victim, before bursting free in sometimes less than a day.
"These newborns had been observed to feast upon anything after birth, which usually included the remains of their 'mother.' Their maturity cycle ranged from a few days to a week, long after the green tide they originated from had moved on. These orcs would then set out together, raiding the countryside and causing devastation. Worse still, they could merge with other young warbands and grow into a green tide of their own, not unlike a plague of locusts.
"Due to these factors, it was next to impossible to effectively eliminate the orcish threat. Yet, just a month ago, this green menace was reported to exhibit unusual behaviors. Most notably, they started avoiding vulnerable settlements which were densely populated and instead focused on converging into a singular, titanic horde."
Nero shuddered, remembering the cold dread he felt when that news first reached his estate. There were so many speculations from the common folksâand even more fearmongering. Criers, messengers, and soldiers ran amok, desperate to instill any sense of order. Meanwhile, crowds of refugees fled en masse, seeking shelter in the cities or even the capital. A fearful whisper of one final green tide, drowning all in blood, chasing them every step of the way.
And yet, what happened next was something beyond anyone's wildest imagination.
"Around the second half of May, the oldest, biggest orcs broke off from this congregation and began charging whatever demonic forces in sight, resulting in mass chaos among the Infernal Pact. I believe that the Demon King himself didn't expect his creations could turn against him and was thus caught off guard." Abigail paused, as if waiting for a confirmation from the demonic messenger. Upon receiving none, she continued, "At first, the Wings of Haven suspected a ruse. Soon however, our scouts returned with news that was as terrific as it was terrifying."
Two illusions formed in the air. Ill tidings seemed to follow in their wake, far worse than the green tide had ever been.
"Where the masses of orcs once gathered, only a lone table remained, and atop it lay the dreadful objects we all know: a pawn chess piece, next to a parchment with one simple wordâLust."
The dark sanctum grew still, its inhabitants holding their breaths. Everyone had already learned of this tale a long time ago. Yet, hearing what happened, no matter how many times, still caused shivers to run down one's spine.
"After the demon armies crushed the rogue orcs which once served as their shock troops, no other sign of these beasts remained. The orcish plague, as a whole, was effectively wiped out." Abigail's voice cut through the uneasy silence. "Orcsâthe pawn of lust. That said, the chess piece chosen to represent its victim does not always denote a title or position. The Hangman's following murders in the elven and dwarven lands provide clear examples of this."
Nero couldn't help but swallow at what was soon displayed. A towering elf in green regalia, falling from his ornate seat and into the sharp rack of weapons nearby. A colossal dwarf casting his horrible spell, only to choke on a flask of booze that became his very last drink. These ancient figures, whose names and legends were known throughout the realms, met their ends just like that: ironic, and oh-so-terrible.
"The great elven warden who once denied Budding Haven's survivors safe entry, instead giving orders to shut the barriers tight. A few weeks ago, he got stabbed in the back by his own trusted weapons. His was the knight chess pieceâjust like elves' unpredictable natureâaccompanied by a parchment with the word 'Sloth.'"
Druidess Y'ereq gritted her teeth at those words, though her silence spoke volumes.
"Soon after, the mythical dwarven berserker famed for his might and magic followed suit, gasping for breaths due to his own spirit. His was the rook chess pieceâa dwarf's stalwart strengthânext to a parchment with the word 'Pride.' How perplexing, isn't it?"
Abigail's rhetorical question fooled no one. Even Nero, with his meager network of informants, had heard about what truly transpired.
The prince glanced discreetly at the runesmith sitting across from him. There it was. A slight twitch, giving away Elder S`geir's otherwise stoic silence. He knew what Abigail was implying; her unspoken accusation, as well as the implicit agreement to let the dwarves save face.
After all, there was no way the underground kingdom didn't know about a grand ritual being carried out right in their backyard. Even in the empire, its impact could be felt; tremors that threatened to collapse whatever lay aboveâespecially the verdant glades, where so many elven barriers haughtily stood.
To ruin an entire race in full, knowing that countless innocents would be harmed. To endanger the Great Oakâone of the last sources of magicâjust to avenge some hundred souls⌠If that's not the sin of pride, then what is? I can actually understand why the Hangman chose toâ Nero shook his head, chasing the impostrous thought away. No. He's still a villain. Someone high on power, killing people without any care for the aftermath. A scourge who believes himself above the law. Our laws.
"On June the 6th, the Hangman targeted the pope, leaving his mark at this capital city itself. Less than a week later, the Bloodthirst Queen met her fate. And now, even the Demon King joins the growing pile of corpses." A dreadful chill seemed to suffocate the void, before Abigail's musing echoed through her orb. "Pawn of lust; knight of sloth; rook of pride; bishop of greed; queen of gluttony; king of wrath. 6 chess pieces associated with 6 sins, completing the current rotation. Envy, being the leftover, would start the next cycle: pawn of envy; knight of lust; rook of sloth; bishop of pride; queen of greed; king of gluttony. Then wrath will begin another. And so on and so forth."
"Point is, you get it, right?" the sorceress crooned, her cheerfulness taunting already tensed listeners. "The Hangman wants everyone to know who's next on his list. He wants us to cower in fear, knowing that those stronger, more powerful, more dangerous, more protected than any of us might ever be⌠Even they didn't stand a chance. So, what hope do we have?"
((( đ )))
â
Another stifling silence followed Abigail's whisper, to the point that Nero could hear so many heartbeats thundering aside his own. The sorceress wasn't done, however, as she spoke up right when Maw was about to lose her temper.
"In a way, that villain is showing mercy." Those words should have felt surprising. Yet, they weren't. "A corrupt overlord drunk on power always commands a throng of goons, who are but vile reflections of the one on top. Thus, when the Hangman's calling cards first appeared, targeting heavenly warlords and demonic archdukes, it wasn't just these ringleaders who were slain."
The orb seemed to warp, its black and white glow foreboding.
"Over time, as the pile grew ever higher, people eventually got the message. Subordinates of a wicked master would desperately try to turn a new leaf, or simply keep their heads down, for doing otherwise meant a dog's death. Even our generals now find their own troops refusing to budge, especially when orders for a 'raid,' pillage, and burnâwhich they once carried out with gleeâare issued.
"In fact, the Hangman's unstoppable killing spree has been so effective that the demonsâwho have vowed to engage us in a war to end all warsâare asking for a truce, after their mighty master got taken out by said villain. Isn't that right, good sir?"
The demonic messenger tilted its horned head at Abigail's query, barely hiding the strained smile on its face as well as two bristling orbs of fire for eyes. "Your sharp brain reminds me of the swift tongue so many fair feys back at my realm once relished, great mystic. A shame that I already plucked out the latter, once their insolence grew so vast that even my tolerance burned low. Hopefully, such misfortune won't repeat itself anytime soon."
It took a moment before the words sank in, and Nero could only stare at the demon in disbelief. This monsterâsurrounded from all sides like a bug beneath giantsâeither had a death wish, or rumors about how serious its ilk took their vows might hold a kernel of truth, after all.
"Peace, friends. Peace." A calming chuckle resounded before whatever tension could brew, causing everyone to turn toward the head of the table. "We're all boarding one similar boat, suffering under the evil of a tyrant. If our ancestors could put aside their differences to triumph against such terror, then why can't we? Wasn't it the Unholy Union that banished the fourth summoned hero, who tried to destroy this magical world of ours? Didn't all races unite once more to burn the sixth summoned hero at the stake? If they could do it, then why can't we?"
The emperor paused, a knowing smile forming at the corner of his lips.
"Lady Abigail, it's time for curtain call. Or is the mana you've been accumulating in that orb just for show?"
Maw bristled at the revelation, only now realizing Abigail intended to teleport more people into the conclave. Meanwhile, Nero couldn't help but wonder how the sorceress managed to bypass the palace's ironclad security once again. The first time might be an accident, but twice is⌠AhâŚ
He sighed, glancing at Eyeâwho proceeded to look away, whistling innocently.
"Astute as always, Your Imperial Majesty. I was hoping to surprise you all with this gift, alas, now is as good a time as any for the big reveal." The distortion from Abigail's orb grew outward, twisting her already garbled voice. "Mine is an intel most invaluable. Our newest 'compatriot' is allowed to stay for this, I presume?"
With a grin, Emperor Alexander tapped on the leather-bound tome hovering near his side. Translucent chainsâalmost holy in natureâmanifested in thin air, showing the invisible binding between his divine artifact and the demonic messenger. Seeing this, Nero almost slapped himself on the forehead. Of course they already have insurance in place. To invite a demon into your den and let it bring back whatever news it could spy on would be beyond foolish otherwise!
"Very well, then. It's time the real fun begins~"
Black and white exploded in everyone's vision following Abigail's words. The void warped, as if an unseen wall that held reality in place was now being ripped apart, brick by brick. Nero almost retched at the dizzying sight, at the sheer wrongness of this all.
Calm down. It's just teleportation magic. The First Emperor taught us this marvel Himself. It's safe. There's nothing to fearâŚ
The prince clung onto that thought, gritting his teeth as countless goose bumps spread unchecked across the body. Whoever Abigail was teleporting into this sanctum wasn't nearby, and the distance they needed to cross in mere seconds was giving Nero a migraine unlike any other.
Thankfully, the torturous experience eventually ended. Nero's headache receded as everything made sense once more, allowing him to open his eyes and see who the new arrival was.
Next to the long table, a stout man clad in garments of greens blearily rubbed his forehead, no doubt still reeling from the teleportation. His brown head of hair looked unkempt, though given the ordeal he recently went throughâeven before todayâit was hard to blame the man for his disheveled state.
"Greetings, Duke Fluuder," Nero hailed, taking up the responsibility to welcome their guest now that Eye was no longer the lowest-ranking draco in the room. "I trust your travel went well?"
"I⌠UhâŚ" the great noble stammered, half due to his disorientation, half because he finally realized who else were sitting at the table. To his credit, it didn't take long before the duke regained his usual composure and paid everyone proper respect.
"Your Imperial Majesty. Your Highnesses." Duke Fluuder bowed deeply toward the emperor and his siblings, before nodding at Nero. "Your Grace."
The prince smiled back, his lips twitching. Before Fluuder could greet the rest of the room, Abigail's orb piped up, "Alright, now that niceties are over and done with, let's stop wasting precious time. Duke Fluuder, you brought what I asked for, yes?"
"Of course, Lady Abigail. And please, allow me to express my deepest gratitude. Now that my saplings have finally reached Star City and under your care, I can breathe easy at last," the duke chuckled, bringing forth a bundle of clothes in his arm. "Rayne was heartbroken that she had to part with the boon you gifted. She also wants to apologize for how they broke the enchantments sewn into these. Those vampires must have messed with the glyphs of teleportation somehow. Damn vermin."
"⌠Right. This is gonna get a bit awkward," the sorceress murmured, her orb oozing purple energies before any question could be asked.
Both torn garbs in Fluuder's arm resonated with Abigail's magic signature, and the duke could only stare in bewilderment as said bundle folded onto itself, leaving two silvery spheres the size of one's fist behind. They floated into the air, their many glyphs flying toward where a molten orb awaited. Something rumbled as countless magic equations were absorbed into a seemingly peculiar spell. No, a contraption, Nero realized, frowning at what Abigail might be up to.
He didn't have to wait long before his jawâas well as so many othersâdropped open.
Two transparent windows were projected from the floating globe, displaying images far more vivid than the usual purplish illusions could ever be. There were people on screenâtowering servants and knights, bustling around some lush carriage with a branch of olive as its emblemâand it didn't take long before everyone realized whose points of view they now bore witness.
"Alright, just lemme skip this."
Abigail's whisper fell on deaf ears. Nero's mind spun in a daze, trying, and failing, to comprehend what the sorceress had done. Her nonchalant tone, lacking any hint of remorse, only sent the prince's thoughts further down a spiral.
He watched as the carriage got ambushed by bloodthirsty vampiresses. He recoiled when all the defenders were slaughtered without mercy. He stared, unblinking, once an old hedge knight made his last stand, screaming at the twins observing this bloodbath to escape.
Yet, all of it was for naught. Even as the duo teleported away from the massacre, their spell fizzled, sending them crashing and stumbling into the dirt. What came next was a slow and agonizing watch as sadistic monsters taunted and laughed at two limping prey, stalking their every step through the dark woods. The screens warped as time skipped forward once more, sparing Nero of whatever harrowing experience the children were forced to go through. Their cries of despair, however⌠That was something the prince might never be able to forgetâŚ
What came next was like a nightmarish dream made real. The sewer where countless horrors lurked in the dark. The monstrous lair full of bloodsucking beasts, laughing and feasting on helpless thralls. The dreadful Bloodthirst Queen. And finally, himâŚ
Nero watched, mouth agape, as a performance unlike any other played out right before his eyes. An act full of mystique, leading into intrigue and wariness, only to steer back toward harmless amusement, lulling the beasts into a sense of security, of absolute superiority.
And that was when the hunter sprung his trap, putting an end to the vampiric scourge.
"Are you⌠Are you truly him?" one of the twins spoke up, voice lacing with trepidation. The screens paused, zooming in on the face of that man. The terrible myth. The villain of this era.
The very Hangman himself.
"YouâŚ"
Duke Fluuder mumbled with a trembling voice. His legs had remained rooted even since the showing began, and the man's complexion only grew paler as realization of what Abigail had done crashed down on him like a tidal wave. Gone were the warmth and gratitude he once showed. In their place, rage dominated, as the duke screamed at the flying orb aboveâwhich had not a care for anyone beneath it.
"YOU USED MY CHILDREN AS BAIT!!!"
((( đ )))
â
A new type of tension swiftly engulfed the dark sanctum. Nero glanced left then right, taking in the change of those around him.
Where there were once fear and resignation, hope, bloodlust, even naked ambitions now reigned unchecked. Elf and dwarf plotting a brutal revenge; dracos eyeing the newest addition to their hoard; demon sitting quietly, observing, schemingâŚ
No one cared about a noisy human, standing off to the side. A father, who screamed of justice for his children, whose needs meant nothing to the uncaring void that dominated this realm.
Nero felt sick.
"You have to understand, Duke Fluuder," Abigail sighed with a dismissive tone, as if she was lecturing some simpleton. "In this game of chess, killing the king is all that matters. Sacrificing a few pawns in exchange for what we learn today is more than a bargain."
"YOU BITCH!!!"
*Thud*
A light tapping sound echoed across the sanctum, putting an end to Fluuder's outburst. With an elbow resting on carved obsidian, the emperor perched his chin atop the right hand, while his left absentmindedly hovered a finger above the table's dark reflection.
"High Justicar Fiamme," Alexander started, "correct me if I'm wrong, but the Strom Family is one of the empire's founding families, isn't it?"
"Indeed, Your Imperial Majesty," Maw assented, a sharp glimmer in her monocle. Nero knew that look, and he could only pity Duke Fluuder as the man slowly got his hopes up.
"Given what we've just seen, Lady Abigail's purposeful endangerment of the Strom heirs can be considered attempted kinslaying, don't you agree?"
"I concur, Your Imperial Majesty. This grave a crime, when descendants of the First Emperor turn on one another⌠Something of this magnitude deserves to be put on trial. And yetâŚ!"
Maw's lingering words felt like a death knell for the hopeful duke. The atmosphere shifted, growing colder, more calculating.
"'The end shall justify the means.' Wasn't it the First Emperor Himself who taught us this?" Justice was put on a scale by the high justicar, and soon found itself wholly outweighed. "While Lady Abigail's 'unique approach' was indeed problematic, the result, however, speaks for itself. Of course, the young Stroms taking part in this laborious ordeal are also worthy of praise. Not only have they done the empire a great service this day, but they've also contributed greatly to avenging the root of their noble heritage. Isn't that right, Lady Y'ereq?"
"HuhâŚ? UhmâŚ"
The elven avatar stammered, clearly not expecting to be dragged into this conversation. Maw's jawlike bevor rattled ominously, as if she were a dragon asking for opinions from some bumbling deer, and the way her monocle shone in the dim light did nothing to help calm the druidess's nerves.
With a heavy gulp, Druidess Y'ereq glanced toward her distant relative's imploring eyes, before turning to address the draconian overlords' oppressive gazes.
"⌠You're most wise, High Justicar. Thanks to the heroic sacrifice of my branching kin, our realms are one step closer toward achieving justice for the fallen. Of this, I have no doubt."
Those words were the final nail in the coffin for Duke Fluuder. The man slumped down in defeat, his despondent face contrasting sharply with the emperor's cheerful tone.
"Then it's decided. My friends, in light of these new findings Lady Abigail has graciously provided us with, it seems our conclave will need to be rescheduled," Alexander announced to the emissaries, his voice brooking no room for argument. "Return to your quarters. Contact your kingdom. Ask for whatever new leads and information you deem necessary."
The emperor paused, pinning all in attendanceâespecially the demonic messengerâwith a sharp look in his eyes.
"You can warn your people of what we have learned this day, but only the bare minimum. Descriptions of the Hangman and his divine artifact will remain a secret for now. The longer we can keep him ignorant of this noose we're tightening around his neck, the better. Have I made myself clear?"
Elf, dwarf, even demon glanced at one another, before offering Emperor Alexander a quiet bow. Soon, their forms flickered into the endless void, followed by a misty-eyed duke.
A chill descended onto the long table, now that only Nero and his siblings remained.
"Any you might suspect, Abigail?"
The words echoed without any of their usual mirth. Abigail's molten orb tilted to the side, as if pondering Alexander's question, before the sorceress let out an amused chuckle.
"None of them showed any incriminating reaction to the recording. That said, ours is most likely an unwitting pawn." A new window burst forth, replaying the scene where the Hangman talked to the Bloodthirst Queen and a small vampiress. "His divine artifact's power has long been theorized to be mind control. This, however⌠The victims couldn't even lie or put up any token of resistance. It's quite concerning, to say the least."
"So the fancy toy can take away free will, big whoop~" Eye let out a yawn with both her arms outstretched. "Vampires being fully immune to mental magic is just a myth anyway. Plus, don't we have access to the best holy miracles this miserable floating rock can offer? Holy counters hexes and curses. The problem solves itself if you ask me."
"And this is why your counsel is never needed, Lya," Maw scoffed dismissively as Eye stuck a tongue out at her. "That damnable basilica where our late pope once resided in was a literal holy ground. Within its domain, complete immunity to magical and physical harm were just some of the boons blessed upon the pope and his cronies. And yetâŚ"
"The Hangman managed to lay them low," Emperor Alexander finished the thought, a frown growing on his face. "He targeted the popeâwhose resistance against mind control should have been as stellar as the Bloodthirst Queen's. His way of execution was also to march all the condemned just outside the protection range of their impregnable sanctuary. He wanted to mock usâŚ"
"He wanted to send a message, more likely."
The thought left his lips faster than Nero could stop it, and the prince could only forge ahead as everyone turned their attention toward him.
"Killing the pope and the Bloodthirst Queen, who should have been the bane to his artifact's power. Plus, this whole chess thing the Hangman has goingâŚ" Nero swallowed hard, trying desperately not to waver as countless waves of aura suffocated his own. "⌠It's a simple message. From pawns to monarchs, none is safe. Everyone's turn will comeâŚ"
If looks could kill, Maw's murderous gaze would have certainly been Nero'Â end. Her bevor glowed bright red like a raging furnace, its wrath aiming at the prince for speaking out of lineâand for saying the unspoken truth no one wanted to hear.