The night sky over Eldia burned.
Thick smoke curled into the heavens as flames consumed the village, casting a flickering orange glow against the towering castle walls. The air stank of burnt wood, blood, and death, and the once-proud banners of the kingdom were now torn and blackened, swaying limply in the fiery winds.
From the castle's high balcony, King Arthur Solhart III stood motionless, his hands clenched at his sides as he watched his kingdom burn.
Below him, chaos reigned.
The clash of steel against steel echoed through the battlefield. The dying screams of knights and the savage war cries of the invading raiders merged into a single, haunting symphony of destruction.
Behind him, hurried footsteps approached.
A female knight, armor dented and covered in ash, rushed toward the king. She knelt swiftly, her face grim and pale as she delivered her report.
"My Lord… we have lost too many men."
Arthur didn't move.
The knight hesitated, as if the next words would break the king entirely.
"General Loid Lionheart fought bravely, facing the bandit leader head-on… but…"
Arthur's sharp blue eyes snapped to her, his expression filled with burning expectation.
"...we lost General Lionheart."
A breath of silence.
The king's eyes widened, his body stiffening as the words sank in like a blade to his chest.
He turned his gaze back toward the battlefield.
And in that moment, something within Arthur Solhart III shattered.
His shoulders sagged, his fury replaced by a deep, suffocating despair.
"We are doomed…" he whispered.
The Battlefield of Fire and Death
At the heart of the battlefield, amidst the sea of blood and fire, the lifeless body of General Loid Lionheart lay sprawled upon the scorched earth. His golden cape was torn, his once-mighty sword half-buried in the dirt, and his armor cracked from the brutal duel he had endured.
Standing over him, his blade still glowing with embers, was Magnar Eldrist Fritz—the feared leader of the Bloodborn Raiders.
His red cloak billowed in the wind, his blackened steel armor reflecting the flames around him. His scarred face twisted into a satisfied grin as he wiped Lionheart's blood from his blade.
"You were a fine warrior, General…" he muttered, his voice carrying a tone of twisted respect.
Then, lifting his sword high, he shouted across the battlefield.
"END IT ALL! ATTACK!!!"
A horde of bandits surged forward, their war cries piercing the night.
The castle gates trembled as battering rams slammed into them.
Grappling hooks soared over the high walls, embedding into the stone as raiders began their ruthless ascent.
Atop the castle walls, the last remaining Eldian knights fought desperately, their swords flashing in the firelight as they tried to push back the invaders.
From behind the gates, the few remaining catapults fired desperately, launching boulders into the enemy lines. Some bandits were crushed beneath the wreckage, but for every one who fell, ten more took their place.
The Bloodborn Raiders were relentless.
And Eldia was falling.
The Castle's Last Refuge
Deep beneath the castle, in the lower chambers, the civilians huddled together in fear and silence.
The massive stone halls, once a place of safety, now felt like a tomb waiting to be sealed.
Lucia stood near the entrance, arms wrapped around Ymir, while Axel stood apart, his small frame rigid and silent.
The boy's face was pale, his blue eyes locked onto the stone ceiling as if he could feel the war raging above them.
"Mom… I'm scared," Ymir whispered, burying her face against Lucia's chest.
Lucia held her tighter, whispering, "It's going to be alright, love… just stay close to me."
But Axel did not move.
Did not blink.
His fingers twitched slightly, a faint shiver running through his arms.
He could hear the footsteps above. The clashing swords. The dying screams.
He could feel it.
The weight of death crushing down upon them.
A deafening explosion rocked the castle as the main gates shattered into a storm of stone and steel. The once-impenetrable defenses of Eldia had finally crumbled under the relentless assault of the Bloodborn Raiders.
A desperate cry echoed through the corridors:
"THE CASTLE HAS BEEN BREACHED!"
The remaining knights sprinted toward the royal chambers, their armor clanking as they rushed to protect King Arthur Solhart III. Four of them quickly surrounded the king, their faces pale with urgency.
"Your Majesty, we must leave at once!"
The king stood frozen, his face unreadable as he gazed out from the balcony at his burning kingdom. His people were dying. His home was falling.
But he could do nothing.
Another explosion shook the foundation of the castle.
With no time for hesitation, the knights forcibly dragged him away, leading him into one of the secret passageways hidden behind the throne.
Meanwhile, the remaining defenders gathered at the main entrance, where the bandits poured in like a flood of death.
"HOLD THE LINE!" a knight bellowed, raising his sword as the raiders charged.
Steel met steel.
The grand hall became a battlefield of blood and desperation, knights and bandits clashing in the flickering torchlight. Swords plunged into flesh. Arrows whistled through the air. The once-pristine marble floors of the castle were soon painted in crimson.
But the knights were outnumbered. Outmatched.
And one by one, they began to fall.
The Escape Below
Beneath the castle, in the lower halls, the civilians huddled in fearful silence. Mothers clutched their children. The elderly whispered prayers. The thick stone walls trembled with every explosion above.
A knight, breathing heavily and covered in soot, rushed into the chamber, his voice urgent but low.
"Stay quiet! I will lead you all to safety."
The knight lifted a heavy iron torch, its dim orange glow casting long shadows against the damp walls. He moved swiftly toward a wooden door at the far end of the chamber—the entrance to an underground escape tunnel.
"Follow me! Quickly, but stay silent!"
The civilians surged forward in a frantic wave, their feet stumbling over loose stones in their desperation. The tunnel was narrow, damp, and lined with torches that barely lit the path ahead.
Lucia was among them, but unlike the others, she did not stumble.
With both Ymir and Axel in her arms, she moved with focused determination.
Both children were heavy, but she did not falter.
She held them close, shielding them from the panic around them, her muscles burning with the effort.
The tunnel stretched on for what felt like eternity, the air growing colder with each step.
Then—
A horrified scream erupted from behind them.
A single civilian, trembling, turned back to look.
And his face twisted in terror.
Because the bandits had found them.
Dark figures emerged from the tunnel's entrance, torches in one hand, swords in the other.
The knight leading the escape cursed under his breath.
"RUN!" he roared.
Panic exploded through the group. The once-orderly escape turned into a chaotic stampede, civilians shoving past one another, desperate to flee.
Lucia did not stop to look.
She tightened her grip around Axel and Ymir, her breaths steady despite the terror racing through her veins. She did not panic. She did not hesitate.
She just ran.
And behind her—
The screams of the fallen echoed through the darkness.