The once-celebratory grand hall stood frozen in horror.
The golden chandeliers above, which once bathed the room in warm light, now flickered uncertainly as the air grew heavy with something sinister. Blood dripped onto the once-pristine marble floor, pooling around lifeless bodies like crimson flowers blooming in death.
Arinay knelt at the heart of it all, trapped in an eerie crimson magic circle. His hands clenched into fists, his knuckles turning white as he struggled against the unseen force pinning him down. His heartbeat pounded against his ribs.
Valtheria stepped closer to Arinay, kneeling beside him with a false tenderness. Her voice lowered to a whisper.
"Chronastra… Elystraea… even your most powerful queens won't come to you now, my king. That bond... has been severed."
Arinay's lips parted as he tried to summon them again, his voice trembling.
"Chronastra… Elystraea…"
But nothing came. No light, no warmth, no response from the two who had always answered his call.
The silence pierced deeper than any blade.
Valtheria's fingers gently traced along his jaw, trembling slightly—barely noticeable. Her voice was soft, almost loving.
"Just accept it. Accept me. Just you and me."
This can't be real.
He pushed with all his might, summoning his strength, his mana—nothing. The energy was swallowed whole, absorbed like a black hole consuming a star.
His voice rasped, low but filled with fury, "Damn it… move… MOVE—!"
But the magic held him in place, binding even the strongest being in existence to the cold floor.
Then, the slaughter began.
His most loyal knights—those who had sworn their lives to him—rushed forward, blades drawn, armor clanking in desperation.
"Protect His Majesty!" one of them roared.
They never made it.
With a slow, graceful flick of her fingers, Valtheria waved a shimmering trail of mana across the room.
A sickening shhk! echoed.
And heads rolled.
The charging knights stopped mid-motion—eyes still wide, blades still raised—before their heads slipped clean off their shoulders. Blood spurted like a grotesque fountain, painting the floor in a deeper red.
Their bodies crumpled, still twitching.
More knights charged.
Squelch!
One was sliced from shoulder to hip, his organs spilling out before he could even scream.
Another had his chest caved in by a brutal blast of mana—his ribcage shattered, his heart ruptured.
One tried to stab Valtheria from behind, but before his sword could even touch her, she crushed his skull with a mere glance. His head exploded like a fruit under pressure, chunks of brain and bone splattering across the horrified crowd.
Arinay's breath hitched. His fingers dug into his palm, his nails cutting into his skin.
"No… stop this…!" he choked out. His voice wavered, not with fear, but something far worse—helplessness.
Valtheria glance his way.
She stepped forward, her boots clicking softly against the blood-slicked marble. The light from the chandeliers made her silver-blonde hair glow like a halo—yet there was nothing divine about her now.
"Why…?" Arinay's voice barely escaped his lips.
Valtheria with her expression unreadable. "Why?" she echoed, almost wistfully. "You should already know, Arinay."
The gathered nobles, frozen in shock, finally erupted into chaos. Some screamed, others bolted for the exits.
She sighed, rolling her shoulders. "So annoying."
She snapped her fingers.
Seven figures emerged from the shadows behind her.
The Seven Commanders.
They were her most trusted, her most loyal who works directly under her command force. Clad in armor that shimmered dark as the void, their faces were masked, revealing only merciless, glowing eyes.
They moved like wraiths.
One noble tried to crawl away. A sword pierced through his throat, pinning him to the floor like a discarded insect.
Another begged, tears streaming down his face. "Please! I have a family—!"
A spear rammed through his mouth, silencing him forever.
A woman shrieked, but her cry turned to gurgling as a dagger slashed her throat wide open, spilling warmth down her gown.
The massacre was swift. Unforgiving.
By the time the screaming stopped, the once-glorious grand hall was nothing more than a graveyard.
Arinay trembled, his head lowering. His body still refused to move.
The blood. The stench of death. The betrayal.
And Valtheria… she was calm.
And then… a flicker. The mask of cruelty cracked. In that moment, her mind drifted—dragged by a memory when she was just eleven.
She had always been different.
A pale-haired, timid little girl who never played with others, never laughed with the village children. Valtheria was a quiet soul—so shy that even the softest greetings from others made her retreat behind trees or walls. She was the girl who sat alone, always watching, always silent.
Until he came.
She met Arinay near the edge of the forest that lined their homes. She had been surrounded—some older girls shouting at her, mocking her for being strange, for always clinging to her sword and her silence. Their words became cruel, their hands forceful.
And then, like a bolt of light, he appeared.
A boy barely older than her—only twelve—but with eyes that burned like stars. He rushed in without hesitation, shielding her with his small frame, fury lighting up his expression.
"Leave her alone!" he shouted. "Touch her again, and I'll make you regret it!"
The girls, startled by his courage, backed off and ran—grumbling but defeated.
Valtheria had looked up at him through tear-streaked lashes, speechless. No one had ever stood up for her before. No one had seen her before.
He knelt beside her, brushing the dirt off her trembling hands.
"You're safe now," he said. "Don't cry. I'll protect you."
That was the first time she smiled.
From that day on, she followed him like a shadow. She wouldn't talk to anyone else, only him. She waited outside his door every morning. Walked beside him every evening. The villagers chuckled, saying they looked like a little married couple.
One day, the teasing became too much. A few boys started laughing behind them.
"Look at those two—they act like they're husband and wife!"
"She doesn't even speak unless he's around! Creepy!"
"Do they even share bed?"
Valtheria's eyes welled with tears. She turned to run, humiliated.
But Arinay caught her hand.
He turned to face the boys—his fist clenched, anger uncontainable.
With a few swift punches and a fiery glare, the bullies scattered.
Then he turned back to her, breathing hard.
"Don't cry, Val… If it makes you happy, let's marry when we grow up."
Her eyes widened.
And then… she smiled through her tears.
That moment became her everything.
She clung to it—through training, through battles, through years of growing up beside him. She never stopped loving him. Never stopped dreaming.
But at sixteen, something changed.
She had gone searching for him after he failed to show up for their daily spar. The woods were quiet. Too quiet. She followed a strange light through the trees—and stepped into a space that should not have existed.
A rift. A forgotten realm buried in shadow.
There, surrounded by silence and an eerie void, she saw it.
A vision.
Their wedding.
She stood beside Arinay, dressed in a flowing gown of silver and blue, his hand in hers. The guests cheered. The bells rang.
And then... fire.
The sky cracked open. Flames raged through the ceremony. Screams. Ash. Her dress burned. His face—his face vanished.
She reached for him—but her fingers touched only smoke.
And then a voice whispered from the abyss:
"This future was never meant for you. Others will take your place."
Valtheria's gaze returned to the present.
To Arinay—kneeling, broken, bound by the very chains she had chosen to activate.
Her fingers lingered on his skin, trembling no more.
In her heart, something ached—something fragile and screaming. But her lips only formed a sorrowful smile as she whispered, almost lovingly:
"Let's stay together… forever. I'll let you live… if you just say yes."
Then, her voice hardened just slightly—enough to reveal the storm behind her calm.
"You may hate me now, Arinay… but sometimes—" she paused, brushing a strand of his hair away from his eyes, "—sometimes… sacrifices must be made… for our brighter future."
Her words echoed in the silent chamber, cruel and tender all at once—like a lullaby wrapped in barbed wire.
And though her eyes shimmered with a haunting softness, the cruelty of her actions stood unmoved—unforgiving, irreversible
A shimmer rippled through the air.
One by one, Arinay's wives appeared.
Each trapped in invisible barriers—unseen magic binding them like caged birds.
"Arinay!!" one of them screamed, her fists slamming against the invisible wall until her knuckles bled. "Please—look at me! Say something!"
Another struggled with frantic urgency, her magic flaring uselessly against the barrier. "Let us out! We have to reach him! We have to protect him!"
A third queen knelt, hands pressed flat against the confinement. Tears flowed freely as her voice cracked, "Why… why are you doing this, Valtheria? We fought beside you. We loved you like a sister…"
A fourth stared in stunned silence before whispering in anguish, "He would've given you everything… and you chose this?"
One cried louder than the rest, screaming Valtheria's name with raw betrayal. "You were always by his side! Why now?! Why betray the man who trusted you above all?!"
Their voices overlapped—rage, sorrow, disbelief, and heartbreak woven together in a rising chorus of agony.
They pounded, clawed, wept, and screamed. But the unseen barrier magic that held them remained unmoved—cold, impenetrable, and silent. No magic could escape, no body could pass through. Their struggle was futile.
All they could do… was watch.
And scream.
Helpless, as the man they loved knelt shattered and betrayed at the hands of someone they once called family.
Arinay's breath hitched.
As he knelt, bound by the unseen force, his chest rising and falling in stuttering gasps, a long-forgotten ache returned—not in his body, but in the deepest corners of his soul.
The vision…
That cursed vision he had once dismissed as an illusion.
He had seen it long ago: a radiant, sparkling spear hurtling through a sky of stars, shattering through his heart with a burst of light. A beautiful figure wielded it—graceful, familiar, divine. At the time, he couldn't make out her face. He had believed it to be symbolic… just a nightmare born of worry.
But now, there was no doubt.
That spear… was Valtheria.
His heart throbbed—not from the magic that shackled him, but from the weight of a truth he was never prepared to face.
And then, unbidden, a memory rose from the depths of his heart.
He was seventeen. She was sixteen.
The memory took him back to the edge of the great forest near their home, bathed in soft moonlight. He had been searching for her for hours. When he finally found her, Valtheria stood alone beneath the trees, her back turned to him, shoulders trembling faintly.
"Valtheria?" he had asked, stepping closer. "Why are you crying?"
She turned sharply, wiping at her eyes before the tears could fully fall. "I'm not," she said, too quickly. "It's nothing. I just… needed air."
He had reached for her, but she stepped back—not coldly, but distant.
"You don't always have to cling to me, Arinay," she whispered, eyes avoiding his. "We're just friends… not lovers."
The words had struck him like frost.
She had always been quiet, reserved, never close with others. But with him, she laughed. She stayed. She clung.
He remembered how those words felt—like something slipping away.
But then, as if sensing his hurt, she quickly tilted her head and smirked. "Or do you want to marry me already, Darling?"
She had nudged his shoulder teasingly, her eyes shimmering again—not with tears this time, but with something he couldn't read. Before he could respond, she turned away and changed the subject with an awkward laugh.
After that, she teased him often—about love, about being clingy, about being "too protective."
And he had slowly convinced himself…
"She's grown up," he had thought.
"She can stand on her own. She doesn't need me hovering anymore."
He gave her space.
He trusted her strength.
He believed in her maturity.
And now… that same girl had shattered the very world he built.
Back in the present, Arinay's eyes trembled.
He wasn't sure which hurt more: the betrayal before him…
or the fact that, deep down, some part of him had seen it coming all along.
Just when the hall seemed drowned in despair, a sudden gust of pure mana swept through like a whisper of defiance.
Two figures descended through the shattered windows of the Eternal Castle—graceful, majestic, and brimming with fury.
They landed protectively in front of Arinay, their forms cloaked in shimmering robes, eyes burning with golden rage.
The twin dragons.
Beings of ancient power, bound to Arinay not by command but by honor. They had once soared high above Mytheria's skies as guardians, but now, in their human forms, they stood firm—radiating the untamed might of their draconic lineage.
"You dare betray the one who brought light to the chaos?" one snarled, voice echoing like thunder.
"The king who gave us purpose. Who made Mytheria a home for all," the other whispered bitterly. "And you turn against him?"
Without another word, the two dragons launched forward—beams of gold and crimson streaking behind them as they soared through the blood-stained hall.
They moved to strike—swift, righteous, full of divine wrath.
But—
—Splash.
The world stood still.
Two glints of silver. A soft slicing wind.
Then silence.
The dragons froze in mid-air—eyes wide in disbelief—before their heads slipped from their bodies, falling like fallen stars.
Their corpses hit the marble floor with a heavy thud, lifeless and cold.
Blood pooled beside Arinay.
Valtheria stood unmoved, her weapon extended in silence.
In her hand gleamed a cruel, jet-black blade with glowing red runes pulsing across its surface—like veins of a cursed heart. Its name sent chills across the dimensions.
Velcrium—the Crimson End.
A blade as infamous as it was feared.
Forged in the heart of an ancient void.
Said to consume the will of those it strikes.
A weapon that rivaled even the Astral Blade: Chronastra in legend.
And wielded to perfection by only one.
Valtheria's eyes glinted with a glacial calm as the runes on Velcrium shimmered brighter. She raised the blade ever so slightly, and uttered the words:
"Soul Reaper"
The air trembled.
The corpses of the twin dragons shimmered once—then broke apart into dust and vanished. No soul remained. No echo of their essence.
Only silence.
Only loss.
Only her.
"Accept it, Arinay."
Her fingers brushed his cheek, soft yet possessive. Fixing a strand of his hair.
"Let's stay together—forever."
to be continued..