Chapter 5: SACRIFICE
**SLAM!**
The king's fist struck the armrest of his throne, shaking the grand hall. "WHY…?! WHY DID THIS HAPPEN TO ME?!" His voice echoed, filled with rage and despair.
Thaddeus stood before him, his expression grave. "You know it wasn't Rome's fault."
The king's eyes blazed. "HE SHOULD HAVE LET THE HEROES HAVE HIS WIFE!"
"Are you out of your mind?!" Thaddeus shouted, incredulous. "You can't be serious!"
"He should have given her up!" the king spat. "Those heroes deserve whatever they desire. We need them!"
"BROTHER!" Thaddeus pleaded, stepping closer
Rome is your former knight he was once a part of the round tables
And even his son save your life once
The king leaned forward, his voice low and dangerous. "You knew how many lives we sacrificed to bring those heroes here!"
Thaddeus clenched his fists.
**Flashback: Summoning of the Heroes**
"Thaddeus!" a voice called, echoing in his mind. "We need you at the summoning circle!"
Thaddeus felt a chill run down his spine as he hurried to the chamber. The air grew thick with the stench of blood and fear.
As he entered, the sight before him made his stomach churn. The summoning circle was a grotesque tableau of horror. Blood pooled on the stone floor, and the walls were smeared with remnants of past sacrifices.
A knight stood over a young woman, dragging her by the hair. "Scream all you want, wench! No one can save you now!"
"PLEASE! NO! I HAVE A FAMILY!" she cried, desperation lacing her voice.
The knight smirked, raising his sword. "Not for long."
SLICE.
Her scream echoed, then fell silent. Thaddeus felt bile rise in his throat. These were the knights meant to protect the realm? They were demons in disguise, reveling in the slaughter of the innocent.
"Next!" another knight shouted, grabbing an elderly woman.
"NO! PLEASE! SPARE MY DAUGHTER!" the grandmother begged, tears streaming down her face.
"Shut your mouth, old hag!" a knight sneered, dragging the daughter forward.
"Please! I'll do anything! Just let her go!" the grandmother cried, reaching out.
The knight laughed, raising his sword. "You think your pleas matter?"
With a swift motion, he struck down the daughter. The grandmother's wail pierced the air. "NO! NOT MY BABY!"
The knight turned to her, a cruel smile on his face. "Now you can join her."
He swung his sword, and the grandmother fell, lifeless beside her daughter.
Thaddeus's heart raced as he watched, horrified. This was the price of power.
Then, a small boy was dragged forward, tears streaming down his face. "P-Please… I was just hungry…"
"Don't cry, little boy," a knight said mockingly, wiping the boy's tears with a gloved hand. "You're going to live."
The boy sniffled, hope flickering in his eyes. "Really?"
The knight laughed, a cruel sound. "Of course!"
Then, without warning, the knight slashed the boy's throat. The child's eyes widened in shock, and he fell to the ground, blood pooling around him.
The knights erupted in laughter, their voices echoing in the chamber. "Look at him! He thought he could escape!"
And the knights laughed.
They laughed as the blood of the innocent filled the circle, fueling the spell that would bring forth the heroes.
The place are sorrounded with corpse life less
They don't have a choice the king decided their fate
"How many more?" Thaddeus's voice was barely above a whisper, his heart pounding in his ears.. The king's voice cut through the silence like a knife. "If we don't do this…" he said, his tone cold and detached, "the Evil King will destroy everything. You know how strong he is. The records in the royal archives show us how terrifying that man is. Countless lives will be shattered—much more than we have taken here. We are doing this for the greater good."
Thaddeus clenched his fists, his heart pounding in his chest. "But at what cost, brother? The king replied ,they are just slaves and commoners. Others are criminals. Their lives are insignificant
Thaddeus replied, but they are not to me!"
The king's eyes narrowed, his expression hardening. "You think I enjoy this? You think I revel in their suffering? This is survival, Thaddeus! We need real heroes to combat the darkness that threatens our kingdom."
Thaddeus felt a wave of guilt wash over him. He knew the might of the demon lord; he had seen the devastation firsthand. The heroes had created an artifact—a crystal ball that recorded the horrors of the past, showing the bloodshed and chaos that the Evil King had wrought. He had witnessed the destruction, the despair, and the cries of the innocent.
But as Thaddeus looked at the countless bodies lying lifeless before him, the weight of his brother's words pressed down on him like a heavy shroud.
He wondered.
Was this really… the greater good?
The faces of the innocent haunted him—each one a reminder of the lives snuffed out in the name of power. The young woman, the grandmother, the boy—all victims of a cruel system that valued strength over compassion.
"Thaddeus," the king continued, his voice rising with fervor, "if we do not act, we will be the ones to pay the price. The Evil King will not show mercy. He will come for us, and we will be powerless to stop him."
"But this isn't the way!" Thaddeus shouted, desperation creeping into his voice. "We are becoming the very monsters we seek to defeat! How can we justify this slaughter?"
The king's gaze hardened. "You are weak, Thaddeus. You let your emotions cloud your judgment. We are not just fighting for ourselves; we are fighting for the future of our kingdom. The lives we take now will save countless others later."
Thaddeus felt a knot tighten in his stomach. He had always believed in the greater good, but at what point did the ends justify the means? The faces of the fallen flashed before his eyes, and he felt the weight of their blood on his hands.
"Is this truly the legacy you want to leave behind?" he asked, his voice trembling. "A legacy built on the suffering of the innocent?"
The king's expression softened for a brief moment, but then hardened again. "You must choose, Thaddeus. Stand with me, or stand against me. But know this: if you choose to oppose me, you will be alone in your guilt."
Thaddeus's heart sank. He felt the crushing weight of his brother's words. The path ahead was dark, and he was unsure if he could bear the burden of the choices they were making.
End of Flashback
Thaddeus's hands trembled as the memory faded, but the weight of it lingered.
"We need to heal the heroes."
The king's voice dragged him back to the present.
"Gareth is gone, but Leonhardt and Veyron can still be saved." His voice was devoid of remorse. "We need them alive. The people… need their heroes."
His eyes gleamed with a sickening conviction.
Thaddeus nodded, his heart heavy with guilt.
But in the depths of his heart…
He mourned.
For Rome.
For Natasha.
For Noel.
I'm sorry, Noel…
Meanwhile…
In a dense forest, a figure lay unconscious on the ground.
Noel, battered and bruised, his clothes torn and stained with blood, lay still. The forest was silent, the only sound the rustling of leaves in the wind.
**To Be Continued**