Chapter 27: The Weight of a Forgotten Oath

A cold wind howled through the ruins, carrying the scent of damp stone and ancient blood. The night pressed heavily upon the shattered remains of the battlefield, where corpses lay strewn across the ground like discarded relics of a forgotten era. Moonlight filtered through the skeletal remains of broken towers, casting eerie shadows that danced over the fallen.

I exhaled, my breath visible in the frigid air. My body ached, every limb protesting the strain of the battle that had nearly taken my life. The Cursed Mark still pulsed on my skin, veins of dark crimson etched into my flesh, a constant reminder of the power that now coursed through me.

I clenched my fist, watching as flickers of dark energy coiled around my fingers. It responded to my thoughts, bending and shifting like a living thing, eager—hungry. The sensation was intoxicating, yet beneath the surface, something primal lurked, waiting for the moment I lost control.

A heavy footstep echoed behind me. I turned, my senses sharpening as a figure emerged from the mist—a knight clad in battered silver armor, his once-pristine crest marred by blood and soot. His sword was already drawn, its edge reflecting the moonlight in a ghostly shimmer.

"You…" His voice was hoarse, thick with exhaustion and disbelief. "You are not supposed to be alive."

I met his gaze, unreadable and cold.

"And yet, here I stand."

The knight hesitated, his grip on the hilt tightening. "The Prince of Ruin… that's what they call you now."

I let out a breath, amusement flickering beneath the weight of my fatigue. "They call me many things."

"You should be dead." His voice hardened. "You should have died with the rest of them. The royal family does not tolerate monsters in its bloodline."

Monsters.

The word settled deep in my chest, heavy with old wounds.

Once, I might have flinched at such accusations. I might have felt the sting of rejection, the bitter taste of exile. But that boy was gone—buried beneath the ruins of betrayal and bloodshed.

I took a step forward, the knight stiffening at my advance.

"I do not fear their judgment anymore," I murmured. "Nor do I need their acceptance."

The knight's eyes darkened. "Then you are truly lost."

A flicker of something ancient surged through my veins, a pulse of power that made the air tremble.

"No," I said, my voice a whisper of steel and certainty. "For the first time, I am exactly where I need to be."

Without another word, he lunged.

His sword cleaved the air in a deadly arc, its edge keen enough to split stone. I sidestepped at the last moment, feeling the whisper of wind against my cheek as the blade missed by mere inches. With inhuman speed, I lashed out, my hand crackling with raw, unfettered energy.

The knight barely had time to react before the force slammed into him, sending him hurtling backward. His armor screeched against the stone as he crashed into the remains of a shattered column.

I advanced slowly, my footsteps measured.

"You are strong," I admitted, "but strength alone will not be enough to kill me."

Coughing, the knight pushed himself upright, his hands trembling as he raised his sword once more.

"Then I will die fighting," he spat, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

Something in his defiance stirred a memory deep within me—a forgotten oath, a promise made beneath a different sky.

"Promise me, no matter what happens, you will not let them change you."

The voice echoed from the past, tethered to a face I could no longer recall.

I exhaled sharply, shaking the thought away.

"Then come," I said, raising my hand. "Let us see whose will burns stronger."

The knight roared, charging once more, his blade a silver blur beneath the moon.

This time, I did not dodge.

Dark tendrils lashed out from my palm, colliding with his weapon mid-swing. A deafening crack split the air as the metal shattered, fragments of steel scattering across the ruins. The knight barely had time to register his broken weapon before my hand found his throat.

I lifted him effortlessly, his feet dangling above the ground as he struggled against my grip.

His eyes burned with fury, but beneath that, I saw something else—acceptance.

"You were never meant to win," I whispered.

With a single motion, I released him. He crumpled to the ground, his breath ragged.

"Kill me," he rasped.

I stared down at him.

"You do not deserve mercy."

His fingers dug into the dirt, his jaw clenching. "Then why do you hesitate?"

The answer lay in the echo of old words, in the remnants of a promise I had long since abandoned.

I turned away.

"Your life is no longer mine to take."

For a long moment, there was only silence. Then, behind me, the knight let out a heavy, shuddering breath.

"You are a fool," he muttered.

I didn't look back.

"Perhaps."

As I walked away, the wind howled once more, carrying with it the weight of choices made and fates yet to be written.

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Epilogue: A Flicker of Dawn

By the time I reached the edge of the ruins, the first light of dawn had begun to creep over the horizon.

I stared at the distant city, its towering spires still untouched by the chaos that had unfolded in the shadows.

The world would soon awaken, unaware of the war that brewed beneath its surface.

A war I had no choice but to fight.

A war I would not lose.

I clenched my fist once more, the Cursed Mark pulsing like a heartbeat against my skin.

The weight of destiny pressed upon me, heavier than ever.

But I would carry it.

Even if it meant walking this path alone.

For I was no longer a prince of the kingdom.

I was something more.

Something they could never control.

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Let's continue this journey together. The Forgotten Prince's rise has only just begun!